The club was nearly empty that evening. After what happened, nobody was surprised when it hadn't opened for business. The twin bartenders were seated at the bar, passing a bottle around as they tried to figure out what to do next. They turned as the door opened and glared. The kid was back. The kid that had ruined everything.

"Club's closed, babyface." Melanie scoffed. "Get lost."

"For tonight. But I intend to open for business by week's end," Artemis said, calmly walking to the bar as if he owned the place. "I'm also thinking of redecorating... I've always been fond of gold." The twins blinked at each other, confused.

"There's no way-" Militia began.

"Like, yeah, if you haven't noticed.. It hasn't been auctioned yet." concluded Melanie.

Artemis rubbed the bridge of his nose, muscling down his irritation. Working with their vapid mannerisms was going to be tiring.

"Correct. And it won't be... considering the documentation of its sale has been backdated, notarized, and placed exactly where one would expect them to be. As the club is not owned by a felon, it cannot be seized with the remainder of his assets."

"As if." scoffed Milita. "Junior would never actually sell this place to some skinny cop friending rat."

"Yeah, like, even if he did.. Why would he give it to a nobody instead of his own employees." added Melanie with the same attitude as her twin. They really were one in the same.

"Because he was smart enough not to choose spite. A trait I hope the two of you share, considering I've figured out your little ruse. "Little Miss" would be so disappointed if her daughters couldn't bounce back from so minor a setback, after all." The twins froze.

"I must commend you. I'm no easy man to fool. But the smoke has cleared and the mirrors have shattered." He stands behind the bar. "The daughters of Mistral's best information mogul, 'Little Miss' Malachite, set up in Vale to spread their mother's reach. A failing club owner uses a pyramid scheme to dupe a bunch of bored college dropouts into forming a reasonable facsimile of a crime syndicate. A little petty theft here, a few assaults there, and Junior's nameless little syndicate becomes the perfect mask to hide behind." He adjusts mirrored sunglasses, peering over them briefly. "Do I have that about right?" He keeps his expression carefully neutral. The question was rhetorical, of course. Between what Junior had told him and his own investigation, he already knew.

The twins looked at each other, having a swift exchange in glances. They nodded, crossing one leg over the other in unison.

"We're listening," Militia said. "What are you offering?"

"To make a clean legal break from Junior's actions, we'll run the club cleanly for a while. No crime of any kind until the law finds better things to monitor. The profits from the club will be invested in a number of small business ventures to establish a stable, legally clean cash flow. After that, we start recruiting for the syndicate and begin more legally ambiguous ventures. Under my leadership, you'll start seeing exponential growth."

"Work for you?" Melanie frowned, her eyebrow raising at his audacity. "Gross! As if!"

"Oh I'm quite serious. You two were quite lucky not to be arrested. Imagine if Junior had been conscious to accuse you before I spoke to him? One little plea bargain, and you'd be in the next cell right now." He left unsaid the threat that they still could be. "It was an admirable attempt, setting up your own venture rather than another strand of the Spiders' web. Of course being willing to start from the bottom again is laudable. I'm sure you had several backup plans." He smiled... and the twins felt their stomachs sink. They had nothing, and they knew that he knew it.

"After a few moments of stunned silence, one of them groaned, "Ugh! Fine. What are your terms?" Militia asked with crossed arms.

"You two answer to me, and only to me. For the most part, I'll leave running the club to the two of you. You've made it profitable so far, I see no reason to change that. You will both be faces and enforcers for the time being, until we expand. For the purposes of this new syndicate, I will remain anonymous. You will not reveal my identity under any circumstances, and you will be the only ones privy to that identity. While you will be responsible for running things day to day, I'll keep a close eye on things myself and focus on expansion on both sides of the board. I expect your earnings to double by the end of the quarter, and triple by the end of the fiscal year."

The twins stared. They certainly weren't expecting so favorable a deal. They exchange a look for a tense moment, speaking volumes through their eyes in a way that only the truly close can. Finally, they turned to him and nodded, "So like, what do we call you..." Melanie hissed through gritted teeth. "Boss?"

Artemis picked up a bottle of wine, pouring a glass for each of them. "Midas," he said, toasting the new partnership. "May all we touch turn to gold."

~o~o~

With the twins at his side, Artemis set to work on putting his world back in order. He backdated the necessary paperwork. He sifted through poorly protected logs, and erased all evidence that either the realtor or the contractors had queried his credentials at all. He even forced their scrolls to download corrupted software updates, bricking them and any data on them. They could never prove they'd done their homework. Under a formal threat of lawsuit, and an informal threat of assault, they folded. Artemis contented himself with a partial refund. The sales were at cost, no losses for anyone, but they certainly didn't make any profit. In spite of their business practices, they'd done good work according to the inspectors Artemis had hired. He hadn't wanted any surprises of course. After changing the locks for good measure, and hiring a cleaning crew to empty out and auction off the office spaces below, Artemis and Holly spent a relaxing evening in a stately new penthouse.

It was almost bittersweet, finally checking out of the hotel for the last time. They had been there long enough to know some of the staff by name, and the continental breakfast for their last morning had just so happened to have all their favorites, and a fresh pot of coffee. Still, they had a home now. Once more, they slung their belongings over their backs, and a waiting cab took them to the building they would soon call home. Even from the ground floor, it looked new and fresh. Artemis had paid to have the windows clean, and the graffiti was painted over. Scanning their scrolls let them into the building, though the encryption was Artemis' own code. The elevator demanded a passcode via a keypad before it carried them up the many empty floors. It was clean, but hadn't been renovated yet. That would come later, with the rest of the building.

It was an eclectic place, clearly built to the tastes of two people. Holly had designed the kitchen, given that she actually knew how to cook. It was furnished with stainless steel fixtures, stone tile, and marble countertops beneath cavernous cabinets. A small panel was slid aside on the wall, showing that all the reservoirs were filled with dust and ready to be used. The utilitarian kitchen smoothly gave way to the living room Artemis had devised. Hardwood floors and Atlesian wallpaper with expensive wooden furniture, though Holly had put her foot down when Artemis had suggested leather. Wisely, he had opted for microfiber. There was a surround sound system and a holovideo projector neatly nestled behind the crown molding, allowing a faux fireplace and an expensive Vacuan rug to dominate the room. The far wall offered a view into Holly's atrium, a verdant artificial garden. It had its own lawn, a cobblestone water feature, and a climbing wall draped with the beginning cuttings of a creeping vine. The wall to ceiling windows were bordered with colorful flowers; marigolds, pansies, and snapdragons. A brand new set of exercise equipment stood off in a corner, almost as an afterthought, next to the door from her bedroom. She kept very little in there. Artemis' blueprints had allowed space for a walk-in closet and a bathroom with a spacious soaking tub, but those had been discarded rather swiftly. She chose rather spartan quarters: A closet, a bed, a desk that folded into the wall, and a utilitarian bathroom. All the freed space had made her atrium all the larger... a bright spark of nature in the middle of the city.

On the other side of the house, past the kitchen, Artemis kept his chambers. The first room on the left was a workshop, bordering on a laboratory. A one man R&D division. It was utilitarian, clean, and organized. There was a wall of tools that ranged from wrenches and screwdrivers to expensive Atlesian hard-light multitools, a desk with lamps and lenses on arms, and an industrial quality 3-D printer that had been surprisingly easy to find given the state of Remnant's technology. Apparently hunters were fond of customized gear. The place was immaculate in a way that Artemis knew wouldn't last past its first project. The first door on the right was Artemis's study. Like the rest of his rooms, it was bedecked in hardwood and crown molding. A large wooden desk, well carved, stood before a jet black office chair. There were bookshelves on two of the walls, still woefully empty for now. One wall had a cabinet with an expensive crystal liquor set, though the decanters only held water. It was traditional, something that reminded him of his father's study. The desk had space for a top of the line computer, though Artemis would be building his own. Beneath a sliding surface was a physical keyboard, a projection monitor, and an inlay to which a scroll could be docked.

Artemis's bedroom was opulent, as he was accustomed to. It wasn't a perfect match to his bedroom back in Ireland, but it was very comfortable. He had a king sized bed with silk sheets imported from Menagerie... spider silk, from the designer's own spinnerets. His bathroom was similarly opulent, with brass polished brass fittings, clean white ceramic, and marble countertops. His furniture, from his bed frame to his wardrobe, was all in carved hardwood. They were new, but carved in an old Mantle style that was comfortably similar to the antique furniture his parents had been so fond of.

They ordered in for dinner that night, as the cupboards were still bare. There was a noodle place nearby, 'A Simple Wok'. Despite the inexpensive fare, it had grown on Artemis during his rise to power. Holly hadn't needed to of course. She'd been a beat cop, she'd settled for worse. The noodles were thick and firm. Artemis compared them to udon, and Holly swore they were more like a dwarven dish that she'd lost her taste for when she'd complained about a bug in the bowl and had been told that it was supposed to be there. They ate their noodles in comfortable silence, sitting on stools by the marble nook as twilight began to stain the sky.

"So," Holly began. "Tonight's the night. Do we have everything we need?"

"As much as we can," Artemis shook his head, setting down his chopsticks for a moment. "I wasn't able to find anything on Ms. Harvest, even after the twins honored what I paid for." The huntress' records had made him uneasy. They'd either been thoroughly scrubbed, or they'd been fabricated. Artemis had tried to find further information himself, but every digital lead had smoothly led to something that couldn't be confirmed, something that wasn't quite right... she was an island of dead ends in a sea of poorly protected information. She was also the only Huntress to take the offer in weeks. There was no telling how long they'd have to wait if they didn't move forward.

The bowls of noodles slowly depleted as they went over the plans in detail, taking solace in their preparation to ease their nerves somewhat. Though they wanted to retire, to sink into brand new beds that they could finally call their own... they had one last task first. Artemis filled thermos flasks with strong, black coffee. Holly loaded rounds just as dark into her magazines, steel tipped gravity rounds, and ran through the usual checks on her Neutrino. She'd been damned certain to get her aim back with it, despite how tiny it felt in her mud-girl's fingers. It felt strange, going into a mission like this without magic. Yet, she could still feel it thrumming under her skin, just out of reach. They'd decided against unlocking their auras... as far as they could find, it was irreversible, and they didn't want to find out the hard way if it would stop the Ritual from working.

They both donned minimal armor plating. Weight was key, between Artemis's begrudging frailty and Holly's avian advantage. It was just light enough not to slow them down, but thick enough that the Grimm would have to work to end them. Enough, hopefully, to buy the huntress time if the worst happened.

The shattered moon loomed down over them, as full as it ever could be, as a taxi ferried them through the city. The odd airships of Remnant, 'bullheads' never really stopped as they neared the airport, swarming lazily around the airport like moths around a lantern. Soon, one of those crafts would carry them forward... for better, or for worse.

~o~o~

Author's Note: Thanks to my amazing beta for the twins' dialogue. artyclues55 on Twitter! Without her, this whole fic wouldn't be possible.