Chapter 28, Maneuverings


Flo drove like a madwoman through the highways of Vale, slipping between and around slower vehicles in their mad dash to the wealthy residential district in the northwestern corner of the city. As the car bobbed and weaved, its occupants jostling left and right with each aggressive turn, Murex navigated through the contacts on his Scroll for the Merchant. Beside him Greene had torn off his shirt to turn it into makeshift bandages for the wound in his side.

Overall, they had been beaten worse than he had realized. Flo's bruising had not vanished, or even gotten better, which told him how dangerously low her Aura was. The fact that Greene needed bandaging in the first place said enough. Their fight had pushed them almost to the breaking point. Not that Murex had gotten out entirely unscathed himself. His lungs still ached from the gas attack in a worryingly persistent way. He didn't cough at least, that had been replaced by lighter seizing fits that were ever so slowly dying down.

It could have been worse, but not by much. With his two most trusted fighters most likely going to need days to heal up to the point where fighting was on the board at all, that left him with very little to go on. With the Syndicate compromised, confirming any group of people he could organize were loyal to the Syndicate alone would be a nightmare. Especially when he needed to organize a strike team yesterday.

As Greene put the final touches on his lime green shirt-bandage and began to put his suit coat back on, Murex finally got the Scroll to ring. As usual, it connected and began outputting audio only, the Merchant's face failing to appear on the screen.

This was a gamble, but one he had to make. Every minute counted if he wanted to catch the Society before they evacuated the lab he had just been in. He just hoped this wouldn't backfire on him.

A voice sounded over the Scroll with a crackle. "Murex, not who I would have expected. To what do I owe the call?"

"I'm going to have to forgo the pleasantries, Ms. Slynt. I need a favor."

There was a pause before the familiarly gaunt, burn-scarred face of Kora Slynt appeared on the screen, dull yellow eyes quickly analyzing his appearance. "I see. What happened to you."

A demand, not a request. Murex fought down one last spasm before answering. "I'm following a lead. Led me straight into a trap."

"Mmmh. Must have been some trap to snare you. The favor?"

"I need to see Wenge immediately."

"How immediate?"

"In the next thirty minutes."

The pause was longer this time. "Quite the favor. An immediate meeting with the head of the entire Syndicate, regardless of whatever he has on his plate. I'd be hard pressed getting that for myself, let alone someone further down the hierarchy."

Murex's heart sank. He could try barging in to Wenge's mansion if he absolutely had to, but the chances of him doing so without serious repercussion were slim. It would still be worth the risk. "You know I wouldn't ask something like this if it wasn't vital."

"I know you wouldn't if you thought that was so. But to go straight to the Boss? What could you have possibly found?" She phrased it as an open ended question, providing a box for him to fill in. His mind raced. What would happen if he informed her? If Sable was in the Society, who else was? His involvement signaled that they were well established in the power system of the Syndicate. It wasn't a large leap to assume that the Accountant wasn't the only one.

"Something that threatens the stability of the Handshake. Someone's trying to start a war."

"Bold claim. Who?"

He grit his teeth, deciding to stick to his guns. "For Wenge's ears only."

One of Slynt's eyebrows raised, the mass of scar tissue from her cheek to her neck twitching in annoyance. That was not the right thing to say. Last thing he needed was the other top official of the whole Syndicate to think he suspected her of being the guilty party. At least, not until he had proof one way or the other.

He started to speak, the words dying in his throat before he found another angle. "The Syndicate has been infiltrated, I don't really know who I can trust."

The eyebrow lowered as the Merchant spoke again, the beginnings of some realization tinging her voice. "You met a Logician, didn't you?"

"How do you know about them?" Murex asked, his voice carefully steeled.

"Let's just say they're not exactly fond of me." Slynt said, gesturing to the prominent burn on the side of her face. "So. You're planning on turning them in to Wenge? You're going to need proof that one of the most valuable members of his organization has gone rogue."

In for a letter, in for a lien. "We just left a lab in the industrial district, under the Palatinate Industrial building on Rosette Street. It's in disarray for the moment. If I can get a team down there we'll have more than enough evidence to prove they're trying to undermine the Syndicate. What they're doing down there is vile."

She nodded. "I'll let Wenge know you're on the way, I'll put my own weight behind it too. Don't worry about the team; I'll have my people stop on by and take a look around, pick up any stragglers that may be left over. This isn't the first lab of theirs I'll have seen, they clear these places fast when they're discovered."

"Thank you, ma'am. Glad to find an ally."

"Glad you're staying loyal. I'll keep in touch. I'm preparing an assault team to cut the head off this snake. It moves tomorrow night. You in?

Murex leaned back into his seat, before nodding his assent. "Tell me where and I'll be there."

"Good. Good luck with Wenge." She said before the connection cut, leaving the dim blue glow of the hardlight interface glowing. He snapped the scroll closed, breathing a sigh of relief, a heavy weight lifting somewhat off his shoulders.

Beside him, Greene butted in. "So that went pretty dang well, Boss."

"We got lucky." Murex softly responded. "Flo, how long until we're at the mansion?"

"25 minutes at most, sir."

"Make it 15."

She didn't say anything, letting the roar of the engine confirm his command. He leaned back in his seat, punching in a different number. Just because Slynt was handling this upcoming attack didn't mean he shouldn't put his own feelers out to his own men to see who was still loyal. Outside the windows, the buildings gradually began to space out further and further, changing from multi story apartments to grand mansions. Then the mansions faded further back behind large fences and spacious lawns.

The road transformed from asphalt to pristine cobblestone, packed so finely that the change was only visual. A road that led to the cliffs overlooking the bay, the place where the wealthiest in Vale had their scenic getaways. Ancient trees planted almost at the founding of the city lined the road, their bright orange and red leaves brightening the had been uprooted and hauled over alive from Foreverfall Forest at incredible cost. Some of the properties were lined with sandstone walls topped with wrought iron, others had blue hardlight fencing on their perimeters. Occasionally through the manicured hills and patches of cultivated hedges and trees they could see glimpses of fantastical homes, built with rare Mistralian lumber and imported Atlesian security systems.

Flo turned the car down a white gravel driveway and up to a gatehouse, where she stopped and turned the engine off. The gate was a classic iron one, tipped with twisted bars spiraling in intricate patterns and artistic spikes, both designed for their visuals as well as to keep Grimm and people from scaling them.

Greene busied himself with cleaning his dismantled knuckle dusters, and Murex continued his scroll inquiries, both were surprised when Flo spoke up.

"Where are the guards?"

Murex closed his scroll, and looked out across the property. Normally there was a small army here, both in armed guards and ground staff. Currently he saw no one. No guards at the gate, no gardeners at the hedges. Further down the road past the gate he could see Wenge's mansion overlooking a sharp cliff. He could see lights in its blue tinted windows, but no people moving within.

"Wait here." He said as he exited the car. Gravel crunched underfoot as he approached the gatehouse, a small brick building highlighted in rich blues and purples. He peeked in the main view window, to see no one there. The gate console was on, the chair was empty, and a half full mug of tea was placed neatly on a coaster. He made his way around to the entry door and found it unlocked.

The place was exactly as he would have expected. A few desks with miscellaneous papers scattered across them, a small white fridge off to one side next to a small kitchenette. There was a small closet for the workers' civilian clothes and coats, which he opened to find empty. On the counter was a coffee machine with an indicator light on. He checked it to find it had been felt on and boiled down to a thick black crust at the bottom.

No blood, no signs of a fight, and few signs of anything really. It's as if the workers had left, and their follow up shift hadn't arrived. He made his way to the console and opened the gate, returning to the car.

"It's empty. Load up, something's wrong here."

His two lieutenants wordlessly readied their weapons, reloading and placing them in their holsters. Murex pulled open a slot in the car and retrieved new Dust cylinders for his weapon, ejecting the used cylinders and inserting the fresh ones. Flo slowly drove up to a roundabout at the entrance to the building, a sleek stone staircase with accompanying canopy. The door, a monolith of black wood with silver trim and knockers, had strange holes in it. Almost indistinguishable from the wood itself, but present.

Greene took a look at one hole, sticking his finger in and smelling the residue that coated it. "Smells like ozone. It ain't something I recognize."

Murex pushed forward, swinging the doors in to reveal corridors running to the left and right, a set of twinned stairs on either side of a gated door leading deeper into the mansion. Once again, it seemed abandoned. "Keep your eyes peeled. This place shouldn't be this empty."

They didn't dare wander these halls with their weapons drawn, even empty, Wenge had sunk enormous amounts of money into the security systems here, including many highly illegal, and very lethal systems that he didn't want to risk activating. Not to mention Wenge would definitely not appreciate his underlings running around his home guns out.

Still, it was unnerving to only hear the clacking of their shoes on the polished stone floors, and nothing else.

It felt like an eternity, but they finally reached Wenge's personal office. Flo and Greene trailed off to his sides, more nervous than he had seen them in a very long time. He was nervous too, it wasn't every day he needed to kick in the door of one of the most influential men in the kingdom. He tried knocking first, three steady, sharp raps with his fist.

"Sir? It's Indigo Murex, I'm one of your enforcers. I have urgent information regarding the security of the Syndicate."

Silence.

"Kora Slynt said she announced me; she can verify myself and put weight to the information I have, sir."

Still nothing. Murex breathed deeply, forcing the last halfhearted pangs of a coughing fit down. He steeled himself, and pushed the doors open, letting himself in.

"Sir, this is a bad idea -" Flo began with a quiet hiss, before the protest died in her mouth.

Wenge's office was magnificent. Large bookcases lined the left and right walls, accompanied by busts of various famous people throughout the kingdom's history. Busts of the great king who had seen his people through the Great War, various leaders, artists, architects; anyone of importance. Paintings from a world-renowned Mistrali artist were hung with their own lighting illuminating the masterful brush strokes. The entire room was painted in light blues, lavenders, and deep navys, neatly drawing the eye to his half oval desk, minimalist in the Atlesian style. The entire back wall was solid glass overlooking a breathtaking view of the bay and ocean.

It would have been breathtaking if it wasn't in ruins.

The desk had five perfect cuts running along its top, the cuts so thin they were only noticeable from the light glinting off their smooth edges. Bullet holes riddled the walls in a haphazard spray, leaving books scattered in pieces by the shelves and the various busts shattered into hundreds of granite pieces. The paintings were scorched, the tiled floor cracked in several places.

The single most eye-catching feature of the room however, was Wenge himself. The large man was seated in the chair behind the desk, one hand on the desktop, his head leaning back comfortably into the chair's headrest, red blood crusted over the left of his head. A trail of the stuff that had spilled out of the neat hole in his temple, punctuated by a series of spiderweb cracks in the glass wall directly behind the dead man. Scattered around the desk were the bodies of four blue suited men and women, scalpel sharp lacerations sliced through them in multiple spots.

They stood there, motionless, until Greene broke the silence. "Don't tell me that's him. That can't be the big boss."

Numbly, Murex pulled out his scroll and dialed the Merchant again. It didn't take long for her to answer the call. "Murex. I didn't expect a call back this soon. What's happened."

He didn't respond, simply turning the camera of his scroll towards the carnage in front of him. There was silence from the scroll, before Slynt made her opinion known.

"Oh."


"So the battery pack connects here, then rolls in. You know it's secure when you hear the click. The charging handle connects a diode to the battery, which both completes a circuit and engages the firing mechanism. Safety's a thumb switch right above the grip." Hakke said, each point in the operation of his auto rifle followed by an actual demonstration. After showcasing how the thing worked, he shouldered it and took aim down the holographic sight attached on the top. It felt good, shouldering his Valakadyn again. "Once all that's done it's exactly the same as any other rifle you've ever seen. Minus the whole 'doesn't use any Dust' thing it's got going."

He handed the rifle to Cerulean, who gingerly took the weapon from him and took his place in the gun range's stall. It was a small, grungy building a few blocks down the street from the garage, the front was an ammo shop and the actual range had at most 4 stalls to choose from. All of them pointed down the same concrete tunnel, the concrete scored with hundreds of small holes and scorch marks from who knew how many shots.

"Right, no Dust." She said slowly, as if she was trying to wrap her head around the concept. Hakke wasn't too surprised by that, seeing as he had yet to find something that didn't either use or completely run off of Dust. "If it doesn't shoot Dust, then what does this thing fire?"

"Magnetically contained plasma. In very, very small quantities. There's actually a small metal core to the projectiles, just a sliver really, but that's just to stabilize the magnetic field and fuel the plasma. That's what does the damage. Back home we'd say it's a Solar weapon; a slang term for most thermal based weapons."

"Most?"

"It starts to get really esoteric from there, lots of physics and paraphysics and metaphysics and other crap. The basics is that Solar weapons cause combustion, Arc weapons use electricity and electromagnetism generally, and Void is just weird. Dark matter and gravity and so on. I don't really have a good grasp of that stuff. Kinetic is exactly what it sounds like, big chunks of stuff moving really fast."

Cerulean was moving through some basic drills, shouldering the rifle and lowering it to get a feel for the ergonomics. "So Solar is fire, Arc is electric, Void is gravity. Why don't you just call them what they are?"

"Because that's simplifying everything. There's more to those than just that."

"Really? Because it sounds more like you wanted fancy terms for basic Dust types."

"Just shoot the plasma gun."

She shook her head, smiling slightly. After an additional pause, a short burst of tracers erupted from the Valakadyn, most tearing through the paper target hanging further downrange and setting it alight, the last few being carried past the target. Cerulean made a thoughtful sound. "Recoil pattern is weird, but a lot more manageable than I thought it would be."

"Yeah, I love that thing. Don't be stingy, ammo is cheap." He said as he went into the adjacent booth. The battery charger he had made for the gun was definitely not his best work; the transfer of fuel into a charge was simply too inefficient for him to consider it a resounding success. The fact he had managed to marry literal garbage and consumer-grade electronics to make a military generator however was something he was happy with. That, and the fact that Dust had a frankly ridiculous amount of potential energy stored in it made the charging to be good enough. Still wasteful, but he was dealing with an energy source that outstripped any raw material he had ever seen.

It had to be paracausal to some extent, material like Dust simply couldn't exist naturally otherwise outside extreme conditions, like the interior nuclear fusion of a star.

He shook his head, focusing on the array of weaponry in his booth. Magenta had chopped up the bolas launcher V1 fairly well, but the concept still held promise. It had been fairly easy to use some of the siphoned Lien that Callie had accrued during their many raids to get a new launcher, and less time to slap the thing on his gauntlet again. He still had plenty of Lightning Dust left, and the bolas rounds were easy to make. Most of his attention had been focused on Midnight Coup, specifically the two ammo types that had actually shot. The primary blend he had been using had been refined to something that didn't vomit loose Fire Dust out the sides of the gun. It's not like he had much else to do, what with his impromptu mission for Ringtail bearing fruit and Callie helping Basil to dig through more of the Happy Trails farm data they had stolen.

He loaded the newest blend of Fire Dust into the cylinder of Coup, snapping it back in place. This new one was different. He placed his baton on the counter and took aim, squeezing off a shot. A spray of clingy, burning Dust erupted out the end of the barrel, splashing his target in globs of fire. Splashing Cerulean's target as well. He opened the cylinder, and smiled as the red hot loader fell out without clogging the entire gun in crusted burnoff.

"By the gods, Hakke, are you going to use that on people?" Cerulean called over from the other booth. Benefit of having Light or Aura, neither of them needed ear protection any more, what with their respective powers healing what little damage occurred from fitting hundreds of rounds.

"Only if they're like those freaks from the farm." He replied.

"Good." She replied eventually.

Hakke was glad there was a divider between the stalls. "Only the worst for them." He said awkwardly. The fight at the farm was still affecting the detective. Whether it was the person farm in the basement or whatever Amos had done, or most likely a combination of the two, he couldn't really say. Or approach. His method of dealing with trauma involved a healthy application of extreme violence, the sorts that seemed to be frowned upon on Remnant.

There was another burst of gunfire from her stall, then another long burst. More than enough to empty the battery. He heard the clacking of the battery being removed, and then the fumbling clanking of someone trying and failing to reload. He popped his head over into her stall in time to see her successfully snap the new battery into the gun with plenty of hissed curses.

He reevaluated his thoughts. This was something he was familiar with. "We'll find her, Cerulean."

She froze, before she let the gun drop from her shoulder. "I keep telling myself that. But my brain keeps focusing on how unlikely it is. The stats say the odds are slim after 72 hours, and it's been a lot longer than that. Much, much longer. And we don't even have a lead, not outside working for this Ringtail person; with the same people who've been trying to kill us since day one."

"When you put it like that, I still don't think it changes a thing. Ringtail sounded about as sincere as anyone I've heard when she said she knew where the missing people were. If she actually knows, then we're gonna get that location. Even if we have to tear the Syndicate down to the ground and salt the earth."

"And you really think they'll just let us go and do that? Be the dashing heroes swooping in to save the day?."

"If they don't I'm just going to do things the way I'm used to. Guns blazing and Light burning."

"Great way to think about things, Hakke. Though in this case, I think I agree." She set the gun down on the rough wood counter in front of her, leaning against it and staring down the range. "How long do they hold people? Because every time I close my eyes, I see that machine. That damned machine. And I see her floating there, hooked up and being drained."

She turned to face him, a face torn with fear and uncertainty and cold, hard fury. "How can anyone - how could they do that to someone? Why? I've seen the worst this city can throw at someone, but what they were doing there, that's something else. Something evil."

It had been a while since he had seen that look on someone. A vicious sort of determination, more like a promise to pay back what pain and hurt they'd been given, and with interest to spare. It brought back images of a city on fire, filled with alien bellows and a sky red with weapons fire.

"Hive kill because it's all they know. These guys..." He waved his hand slightly, searching for the right thing to say. "I got no idea why they're doing this, or what they're planning and building towards. Power, I guess. Influence. Clout, maybe? All I know is that they have to be stopped, because it's pretty obvious someone is either in touch with or taking influence from the Hive."

"That isn't an answer."

"Because I don't have one. Not yet, at least."

Cerulean blinked.

Hakke pursed his lips. "Yeah, I'm really not good at these sorts of talks."

"No, no you are not."

Hakke waved his hand as if he could wave the last exchange away. "Look, what I'm trying to say is that we'll find Nicole alive and well. And if we don't then we kill everyone responsible and burn the whole thing down."

"Brothers above, you are the worst at this. I don't want to kill anyone else, Hakke. The fact I had to kill Amos was bad enough, as awful as that man was. I am not an executioner, I'm a police officer, I-" She sighed. "That's going to change, isn't it. I don't even need you or Callie to tell me that I'm going to need to kill before this thing is over. If she isn't ok I don't know what I'm going to do. I can tell that whatever happens after that, it's not going to be me who walks away at the end."

"You're good at this, Cerulean. If anyone's going to survive, it's going to be you."

"Not what I mean."

"...I see." Hakke shuffled in place awkwardly for a second before he turned back to his booth with a short exclamation. He began rifling through the back they had brought all their equipment in. "So to segue from that topic because I don't know how to approach it -"

"Smooth." Cerulean interrupted brusquely.

"Right, well, I picked up something for you last time I was at the armorers." He pulled out a compact piece of dull silver tubing and returned to Cerulean's booth. He offered it over, and the detective tentatively took it. "Figured since you have an active Aura now you needed a solid melee weapon. If you press that button on the side there…"

She pressed the button, and watched as the blocky piece of tubing turned into a nightstick - tonfa - whatever in a half second. She stared at it for a moment, looking over the weapon in her hand. She held it like she knew what she was doing, which he guessed she did. Tomaso had said that the thing was popular with the police in Vale. Cerulean flicked her wrist, the business end of the tonfa flipping so the longest section now pointed out past her fist, and then flipped it back with practiced ease. It seemed Tomaso had been right.

The tonfa compacted. "Thank you. Some real emotional whiplash, going from talking about my wife being dead to this, but I do appreciate it. You're bizarre, and almost criminally violent, but you've been a real friend when I've needed it, in your own way."

"Criminally violent?"

"You're the textbook definition of excessive force."

"Bull. I bet you can't name one example."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Remember when you threatened that one guy with the broken Aura with that massive revolver of yours? Or threw a guy off a building? Or gave that one guy a double jointed knee, or used a machine gun as a battering ram on someone's head, or-"

"Ok, I got it. You're not going to turn me in, right?"

"No. Gods no, it was all self defense. A bit much, but nothing that hasn't happened before when Huntsmen are involved."

"That's a relief."

"Look, is there any chance that this Ringtail you talked to isn't going to stab us in the back the moment she can?"

"She seemed pretty sincere about the whole thing. Doesn't mean I'm not going to be packing as much heat as I physically can of course, she's still obviously Syndicate after all."

"Guess we really don't have much else to act on. If you don't mind, I'm going to head back to the garage, see if Basil needs any help with those records. When you get back, think you can run me through some Aura drills? I've been looking up the theories and what have you online, but having someone show you is always better."

Hakke frowned. He had run through some of the basics of how Aura worked with Callie when he had downtime. Understanding how it worked was essential, especially when every opponent that was a real threat had it. There were thousands of scientific studies that had been done on the subject, and far more theories on how it actually worked and manifested. Of course, most of the information he had access to was the declassified stuff, he was more than certain that there was far more useful info behind the classified wall.

That said, there was no real way he could call himself an expert on the matter, not by a long shot. He didn't have Aura, at least to his knowledge, which also meant that acting as a trainer would most likely be not so good. The training he received as a Guardian was definitely not something a non-Guardian should be given, seeing as the mortality rate was well over 100%. Still, he could probably adopt some of the endurance related Light exercises and meditations he knew to focus on Aura.

Hakke nodded his head. "Sure, I can give it a try at least. I'm not all that knowledgeable on Aura, but I have a few tricks that should be applicable."

Cerulean shrugged. "Better than nothing. I'll clear some space in the alley behind the garage. We'll have more room there."

"That should work, I was going to start with more meditative stuff to try to strengthen your Aura, get it in use easier. Think that'll be more bang for your buck for this upcoming thing."

"Huh. Don't take you for someone who meditated."

Hakke shrugged as she took her leave. He still had a few formulas to run through Midnight Coup before he left the gun range. As he fired through what he had, taking notes on recoil patterns and waste gas, he began to get slightly giddy. The real item he was excited for was coming up.

Finally, he stashed his hand cannon away in the duffel bag on the floor and replaced it with an ammunition belt with 40 custom rounds attached. He had made a basic press to slot the custom bullets he and Callie had engineered, an oddball mix of local metal and traces of his meager collection of spinfoil from the Cosmodrome of Old Russia. Metal to provide the kinetic kick. Spinfoil to contain the Void charge.

Placing the belt on the table in front of him, he retrieved the weapon that was meant to fire said belt. He loaded it in the top hopper, latched it shut, and pulled the charging handle. Unlike the very hasty attempts he had made to get Midnight Coup ready to accept Dust rounds, he hadn't even considered the same for this weapon. Instead, he had manufactured cartridges specifically designed to feed through this machine without issue.

He shouldered the machine gun and pulled the trigger. A light purple tracer round tore out of one of the twin barrels, punching through the paper target and turning a small chunk of the wall behind it to powder. Satisfied with the one round, he squeezed and held the trigger down, both barrels alternating as he emptied the lone belt, metal casings rattling on the carpet and the smell of fried ozone hanging in the air.

He let the front of the gun lower and observed the devastation. The back of the wall was pockmarked with much larger holes than when he had started, and he could see the light glow around the holes where the concrete had turned to molten slag and vapor.

"Now we're cooking with gas." He muttered under his breath. It felt good to have 21% Delirium back up and running.


The next day passed quickly. From a small dark room covered in glowing monitors Kora 'Ringtail' Slynt briefed her two separate teams on their respective missions. Both were to attempt to access their objectives at the same time. One team would head in through a side entrance, the other the front door. One aimed to sever the head of the snake, the other to tear its heart out. As long as the two teams didn't know who the other was, things would be smooth.

Murex and his cronies, both those under his employ and the ones she was loaning him would be the front team, they were to enter the Lucky Roll Casino from the front entrance, enable a fire alarm to remove the casino and hotel guests, and then find and kill Azariah Sable. Without its leader, the Society of the Sword would begin to crumble.

Hakke and Detective Cerulean were to enter in the side, and make their way to the sub levels, where she was confident most of the Boost production for the city of Vale was happening. There they could destroy whatever equipment they found and liberate whatever captives were still alive and unprocessed. Without its trump card the Society would be weakened dramatically.

Both teams were vital. Both teams had proven themselves to be adept at both fighting and surviving. One of them would succeed, at the least, barring any unforeseen eventualities. Slynt wasn't fully aware of what security measures Azariah Sable had placed in his Casino, but there had to be plenty. One didn't rise to be the left hand man of the Syndicate Don without having a sense for danger.

She called both teams, one after the other, to give them the full details, and to confirm they were on their way to the Casino. She leaned back in her chair, eyes glued to the screens. Each displayed camera feeds from inside the Casino, all from a hack she had authorized several months ago.

Now all she could do was wait, and hope that Sable died tonight.

Meanwhile, in a different room in a different part of the city, an automatic system tripped, sending a far more sophisticated message that it had any right to be to another dark room. A man in a police uniform and a trilby hat choked on his coffee as the message displayed. It was an image of a black van getting on a ramp to the main highway in Vale. A closeup of the two figures in the front seat. One was a man in a dark coat with armored shoulders. The other was a woman in a soft armored vest, her brown hair back in a tight bun.

Detective Richard Ponci stared dumbly at his very much so not dead partner in shock, some part of his brain running on autopilot to piece together where they may be heading to. Judging from where they were entering the highway and the direction they were going, he had a sinking feeling in his gut he knew where they were going to go.

"They're going to the Lucky Roll." He mumbled aloud.

"It's him." A voice behind him said softly. "The Lucky Roll you say? You mean the casino up North?"

Ponci forced the dread down. "Yeah, that's the one." He said as he turned to see the one person he didn't want to know about this behind him. Glynda Goodwitch was focused on the screen in front of him.

"If you're confident in this, I don't see any reason to wait. We should go there immediately. This station is closer than that junction, we should be able to beat them there." Glynda said as she turned and paced to the door. She stopped and asked. "Are you coming, Detective?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you down in the car park, we'll take a squad car. Gotta call this in through the proper channels." He said, waving the huntress on. Once she was out of sight, he scribbled his Scroll out of his pocket and called an unsaved number. Of course Goodwitch had seen that. Of all the people at the station, she saw it.

Finally, his contact answered the call. "Sable, sir, we may have a slight problem."


Back at it again with another update. At least it was quicker than the last one. Still working on getting my schedule under control, but it do be getting better. So that's nice. This particular chapter kicked my ass pretty good as well, the swapping of perspectives was much harder than I anticipated, which makes sense as this is the first time I've put in a serious effort to actually have multiple perspectives to this extent. I plan to do it more,so I'll get plenty of practice at least, and with more practice, It'll get faster.

That said, we're finally here at this particular arc's climax. Said we'd get here eventually, I got some good stuff planned. Hope it all works the way I want it to (and updated a bit faster too, a running theme for the last few bits.)

- RangoTango

YahoooooOOOOO

Master-ofManga - I wanted either Hive guns or Void weapons, and I'm leaning Void. More dangerous than the regular Dust stuff, and easier to handwave than giving the cult Hive stuff.

Savathuns Bathwater - Oh god, that would be a nightmare. And for everyone it'd be a different nightmare. Also Space Horse best horse.

Al the Obsessive - Gracias! I got some plans for the upcoming arc, should start to fold in more canon characters now that my core cast is established.

jordanlink7856 - Thank you, that's what I've been shooting for. I wanted my own cast to mash into canon, and to explore bits of the world that RWBY didn't really delve into. Very glad its working out.

The Lone Gunslinger - 100% agree. If Xivu Arath was here, the story would be over by chapter 3. There is literally nothing anyone could do to stop that. As far as potential teamups go, I have several plans a-cooking

Sundew112604 - Kinda sorta. Witch Queen threw some stuff on its head and opened up other possibilities for me. It helped click in the last pieces of Dul Yurnath's plan in my head, which is a good thing.

Guest - That's the plan, just doing it a bit slower than I'd have liked.

GreatWhiteAdam - Well holy moly, thank you for the kind words! It's good to know what I'm doing is working.

tH1s - Maybe. Maybe not.

Schmidget - I actually have a contingency planned if anyone tries to use Jinn to get info on Hakke or anything going on. Don't know if I'll ever get to use the damn thing, but it does exist. I think Salem wouldn't think it's a big deal in the way all arrogant bad guys think things are not threats until too late.

ue1 - Yes, she is. Truth be told I wasn't sure for a good while where that plotline was going, but I finally have a gameplan for Cerulean's wife sorted out, so there will be actual progress on that front. Murex's reaction is gonna be good, because that's a payoff very long in the making.

holandia1103 - Glad to be back every couple of months. Life's got a way of chewing spare time up, but I'm making it work.

The Baz - Warlock Business by Tapete. Never, I'll just come back. Murex has some character development to do first.

aLostWanderer07 - Love this comment.

Hunterultra - Titans are smart as hell and great tacticians. But they do enjoy the occasional crayon, as a treat of course.

trninjakiller - Fair enough. One of the main reasons I did that was so I couldn't have Hakke solve every problem with a super, which would be his go-to otherwise and make the action scenes more repetitive (IMO).

Singular Ash - Describing characters is the thing I am very bad at, especially with the main character. Great job of the sleuthing though! He's got the Duster of the Cormorant Dawn, and his helmet is a Prodigal Hood. His band is a personal one he made himself, so it has no in-game counterpart. Gauntlets are Wing Theorem and Wildwood boots are the last bits of his loadout.