2006, 1st February,
Space Station, Apotheosis
Ciara saw Michael sitting in his office, and approached him.
“I delivered your message.”
Michael smiled at her, warm.
“Thank you.”
“What, not going to ask me how I figured you out? How I knew you wanted me to relay that message through Rayyan to Hans?”
“Ciara. I know you’ve lost some faith in me, but the part of me that saw your potential for greatness never changed. You say it as if you saw through my great attempt to deceive you, but I knew you would figure it out. I just thanked you for keeping faith with our mission, if not with me, and going through with what I needed you for anyway.”
“Michael… Is this thing we’re doing worth it? What if this idea Hans has… What if it has merit?”
Instead of dismissing it outright, Michael appeared to give the question serious thought for a moment before replying.
“I don’t know. I don’t know if Hans’ idea of a better world is viable or not. Perhaps I am the one in the wrong, choosing to keep our reality caged away behind an unnatural prison. But I have chosen to stand firm behind this belief of mine; that we must allow them to grow and not force growth upon them. That this new reality Hans plans to bring about could have catastrophic consequences.”
His gaze seemed to pierce Ciara.
“Decide where you want to stand. No one but you can make this choice.”
Ciara didn’t look away.
“I thought I’d made that clear enough already.”
Michael smiled, inclining his head in acknowledgement, then looked to a spot somewhere behind Ciara.
“And here comes the pivot of this whole plan. Ciara, meet Lucia Bellone.”
The hair on Ciara’s nape stood on end.
Nothing was behind her- was there?
She turned on her heel, staring at cold, almost reptilian eyes, examining her in a way that made her want to curl upon herself in a corner.
“Hello, Ciara.”
An unmistakable french accent, accompanied by a hissing from the back of the throat.
“If you don’t mind, could you get her something to wear? Something that’s easy to move in. She’s going to be leading the attack tomorrow.”
It was only then that Ciara noticed she was clad only in a black suit.
Ribs and hip bones jutted from beneath her chalk white skin, criss-crossed with dark blood vessels covering the corded musculature beneath it.
“Ah.. Of course. Come with me, then.”
Not a few steps in the corridor, Ciara slowed her steps, still unnerved.
It wasn’t even the obvious bulges where she knew Lucia’s fangs were; It was the way she moved.
“Do you mind not walking behind me like that?”
The vampire did not reply, merely expanding her stride to walk at Ciara’s side, accommodating her.
Then she coughed.
Loud.
Another predatory tool, designed to lock up the prey’s muscles with fear.
It was effective enough- Ciara stopped in her tracks.
But Lucia looked at her, not with the intent to cause harm, but genuine confusion.
“Why are you scared?”
Ciara grit her teeth.
“What- the hell- are you talking about, bitch?”
“Michael is never scared. Hans was not scared. Why are you scared?”
“Just because those two freaks don’t feel anything doesn’t mean the rest of us aren’t normal.”
“That hasn’t been my experience. I didn’t believe your people even knew what fear felt like. But you’re still just like…”
“Like what?” Ciara challenged her.
“Nevermind. Let’s keep going.”
Ciara had a good mind to leave her then and there, but she really couldn’t count on this predator to behave predictably.
So she led the way, and let the vampire into her home, literally.
She picked out a track suit she used when she had to exercise- she didn’t really expect it’s safe return, and for mobility, there were few better options.
It stretched a little tight over Lucia’s body, her being built quite a bit heavier than Ciara, muscles around her limbs lending her a frame paradoxical to the otherwise malnourished appearance of her torso, but she managed all the same.
“Thank you,” the vampire told her, and walked out.
When she was gone, Ciara flopped down onto her bed with a heavy sigh.
Meanwhile, Magnus and Anders had found their way to Michael’s office with questions he didn’t have satisfactory answers to.
“Lucia’s going to be at the helm of the attack, and you’re going to be dealing with Hans. What will my role be in this attack?” Magnus asked him.
“Obviously, Victor will also be there,” Anders said, “Our duty is to our company first and foremost, and to hunt down their killer.”
Michael sighed.
“I’m only going to say this once, Magnus, and I want you to know, this is the truth. You aren’t cut out for this sort of thing.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about!” Anders intervened, “Magnus is one of our greatest warriors, and the one with the greatest chance to take down Victor.”
Shooting Anders an irritated look, Michael addressed Magnus still.
“As far as significant others go, you could also be doing a lot better.”
Anders began to growl and lunge forward, but was restrained by Magnus’ hand on his shoulder.
“Wait for me outside.” He told him.
“This fucking guy-”
“Anders. Wait for me outside.”
When they found themselves alone, Magnus turned to Michael.
“What was that about?”
“As I said. You’re not cut out for this kind of thing. I don’t doubt your strength, I know you well enough. But all this violence and conflict- it’ll kill you inside even while you still live. And your boyfriend doesn’t see that. He’s reinforcing this self-destructive behaviour for his own ends.”
“What makes you think I also don’t want revenge for my company?”
“Your company of mercenaries? How much do you really care about them?”
“Even still, Michael… There are some fights you have to see through.”
Michael shook his head.
“There’s always going to be another fight, more important than the last. There’s going to come a time when you look back, wondering how you got where you are, and you can’t do anything to change that. You can’t go back, because the past is past.”
After a long sigh, Michael said, “If you want to fight by our side tomorrow, I won’t stop you. But you should give a chance to your happiness. This isn’t what is best for you.”
Magnus looked like he wanted to say something, then decided against it, and began to walk out, before looking back.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Michael.”
And he left.
Lucia walked in just after that.
“Smoothly handled,” She said.
“Uh huh. I see you got yourself a suitable outfit. Now, my suit, if you please.”
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“You’re going to turn in anyway.”
“True. I still have to throw these in the wash though. Come on.”
They walked back to his room in silence.
Getting there, Lucia sprawled on the bed while Michael was washing up.
Once he was done, he collapsed right beside her.
They lay in silence, before he asked her, “Nervous about tomorrow?”
“Whatever happens, happens.”
“I know I said your father was going to throw the match tomorrow, so to speak-”
“Everything with that man is a test, Michael. He won’t hand over anything without having tested to his satisfaction first. If we fall short, he destroys us.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“But tell me about Hans. What do you plan to do with him?”
After a long pause, Michael said, “Here at Apotheosis, we have only one universal law. That power proves you.”
“Might makes right. Classic.”
“Hans sees a certain future for our universe. I disagree. Tomorrow will prove one of us right. The other will die with their ideals.”
After a contemplative pause, he spoke again.
“Do you know what the Astral realms are?”
“No. But I have a feeling I’m about to find out.”
“Every dream sentient beings ever dreamed taking physical forms, like mind and matter stuck in an endless loop. Fundamentally incompatible ideas each forming a new reality beyond Horizon, and swelling with every thought that being has.”
“I’m guessing you haven’t been lucky enough that these realities die off with the organism that dreamed them up?” Lucia remarked dryly.
“No. That would have been convenient, eh? Abas keeps filling my head with horror stories about Astral planes swelling to unmanageable proportions with ideas like absolute infinity. I don’t even know exactly what that’s supposed to mean. It’s like the word infinity has lost its meaning.”
“Not necessarily. You know there’s a theoretically infinite set of numbers between one and one hundred. And the set of numbers between one and two hundred is infinitely larger than the previous-”
“Stop! I don’t need to be filling up my own astral plane with these concepts- Ah, it’s too late anyway.”
Lucia grinned and nudged him with her shoulder.
“Maybe it would be better for us to be stuck in the Pleistocene.”
“Maybe. But I’m not displeased with our situation. And protecting the Hollows from monsters of their own creation is why we’re here in the first place, isn’t it? Did I ever tell you how I first began to spend time with Magnus?”
“He told me. You did it to protect him… Same thing you were trying to do today.”
Lucia turned to him, pulling her knees beneath her chin.
“He doesn’t need to be coddled by you, Michael.”
“Yes. Perhaps that was a mistake. And what about the rest of them?”
“You’re asking me if Hans is right. If humanity is ready to be finally exposed to what’s truly out there.”
“I’m not second guessing myself, you know that. But I value your opinion nonetheless.”
“It’s not an easy question to answer, Mike. But I know Victor, the man Hans allied himself with. I know he doesn’t hold the same views Hans does. He dreams of a world where humanity is at its rightful place, at the feet of creatures like us. I know Hans has chosen his allies poorly. I know his methods are misguided and destructive. I was given this very choice before, and I chose to oppose him.”
They subsided into a comfortable silence, looking out at the field of stars beyond, before sleep swallowed them.
The next day arrived upon them, apparently 7 A.M in Paris, so they had until sundown to prepare.
Magnus cleaned up in the guest quarters he was assigned near the Bleed, to find Michael face to face with another of those spirits he had seen in his thrall during their initial assault on the space station.
It was struggling against nothing Magnus could strictly perceive, lashing out erratically with bolts of energy that seemed to home in on Michael before veering off course, and the reinforced walls behind him were scorched black.
Then Michael stood up a little straighter, and the spirit seemed to slump in defeat, now bound to the mage’s will.
Michael turned to Magnus and said, “You should go check out the armoury. They have some toys waiting for you there. They should prove useful tonight.”
“I smell blood… What is that?”
“Ah… Probably just Lucia, preparing in her own way.”
“How’s that?”
“You need to see it to believe it.”
Magnus followed the scent to a medical wing, seeing a number of rather harried looking people in grey milling about the front gate.
Worried one of them might have been attacked within, he pushed his way through them, and they drifted apart to give him space as they noticed him.
The scent of blood grew thicker the whole time.
Thankfully, it wasn’t a cadaver cut open, as Magnus had been expecting.
Just litres of preserved blood spilled onto the floor, Lucia crouched over the floor.
Magnus didn’t need to ask what she was doing; the eyes, pupils constricted to pinpricks, giving away her barely constrained hunger clearly enough.
She was sharpening herself for a hunt.
Magnus left her to it, and made his way to the armoury, where he found Anders waiting for him.
“Magnus. I’ve been looking through the weapons while you got ready. These people have some serious firepower. Most of those weren’t authorised to be released to us, obviously, but take a look at what we have right here.”
Anders walked Magnus through a variety of weapons, increasingly innovative ways of destroying lives.
The first on display was a fully automatic shotgun firing expanding ammunition, capable of grievous internal harm.
The bullets chambered in this particular weapon were silver; It was no secret what there intended quarry was.
Then they inspected grenades capable of independent propulsion through the air, akin to a drone delivery system, without the requirement of drones.
Instead of a conventional explosion, these grenades would deliver a lethal payload of nerve agent.
Magnus was almost surprised the payload wasn’t laced with flakes of silver as well; for all he knew, it probably was.
Directed energy rifles and napalm grenades followed, and Magnus’ frown deepened as he saw the excitement on Anders’ face.
“You’re really looking forward to this, aren’t you?”
“Magnus. We’ll finally be rid of this burden resting on our shoulders our obligations to our comrades looking upon us from Helheim.”
Anders cradled one of the energy rifles.
“It’s time to have our revenge, Magnus.”
Magnus did not touch the weapons and walked out.
He found Michael back in his office, accompanied by the spirit, poring over what appeared to be real time satellite imagery of Paris.
“Figure out a plan of attack yet?”
“That… isn’t really my specialty. I know Lionel mostly operates out of La Defense, but we can’t hope to simply jump him in the thick of the city. No, we need to be careful not to let our attack spill over somewhere we don’t want it to. And still have it accessible and able to be found by Hans and his allies.”
“Let- go of me!”
“Ah,” Michael remarked, “Looks like our guest has arrived.”
At that moment, Lucia dragged a struggling man into the office, fingers wrapped firmly around his throat.
The man struggled, but Lucia unleashed a bone chilling growl, dragging the man’s face up to her own height, her breath hot against his throat.
And Rayyan- for it was Rayyan that so unceremoniously dragged into the office- was suddenly acutely aware of the close proximity of her fangs to his jugular.
Still, his expression was indignant, not afraid, but he had the presence of mind to hold his tongue.
Michael leaned back in his revolving chair, setting his feet up on the table in front of him.
“Hello, Rayyan. What a pleasure to finally meet you.”
“Call off your attack dog! You can’t do this! I’m a mage of Apotheosis, just like you.”
“Now this is curious. Tell me, Rayyan, what about your being a mage of Apotheosis forbids me from summoning you over for a chat?”
“This is no chat! You’re going to kill me!”
“Even if I was going to kill you, Rayyan, that’s not forbidden either. We just have to present a strong enough justification after the fact. And while I myself am working on behalf of Abas Khan, High Lord of Apotheosis, you, on the other hand, are in the unfortunate position of being allied with Hans, the mage responsible for the Fae infiltration in our home just a few days ago. Now, how secure do you feel, Rayyan?”
As if to accentuate the point, Rayyan felt the vampire’s nail dig into the back of his nape.
Being a novice of dimensionalism, Rayyan could see into uncountable theoretical futures.
The overwhelming majority of futures where he initiated hostility simply ended with the vampire snapping his spine faster than his neurons would even report the pain to his brainstem before losing their function forever.
Simply, the statistics did not fall in his favour.
He slumped in his seat, defeated.
“What do you want?”
“Everything. But for now, I’m willing to settle with you accompanying us on our upcoming assignment in a few hours, and relaying Hans some information. Doctored by my specifications obviously. And no, you do not have a choice in the matter.”
As the last syllable was leaving his lips, Michael brought to bear the force of his will, and any resistance Rayyan had was swept away before his psychic command.
“Good. That’s one thing over with,” Lucia said, moving to inspect the satellite imagery, “Now for the rest. Nice resolution on these.”
“See anything interesting?” Magnus asked her.
“I’m trying to figure out what routes his people move through. Can’t be easy, smuggling flesh and blood people.”
“Maybe he just keeps the people in his route nice and bribed.”
“Also a possibility. But for now, let’s focus. The majority of Lionel’s work isn’t related to labour exploitation and sweatshops. It’s more akin to sex trafficking. The majority of those cases bring in prey from far off places. It’s especially preferable that the victim not have a support system around them, and maybe not even be able to interact with others in the local language. So the networks need to be close to the airway routes, at least.”
“Unless he’s using mind control. Like Mike here just did.” Magnus said that last bit with a slightly disapproving glare at Michael.
“Lionel must have thousands of victims,” Michael said, “He won’t take the trouble to brainwash each and every one of them personally.”
“Michael’s right,” Lucia said, “Sometimes it’s best to do things the mundane way. Now for the operatives; It’s going to be civilians that easily blend in. Women are often better suited to the role. Less chance of suspicion. Can we look through records of french nationals, predominantly women, returning to France with foreign nationals? People with more than one such trip are of special interest.”
“Sure. Hollow encryptions can hide nothing from us. I’ll pull that up right now.” Michael said.
“Alright, now to get a closer look at La Defense itself,” Lucia zoomed in on the image as she muttered, “-Actually, wait, never mind those records.”
“You remember something?”
“It’s a charity or something, one of those non profit organisations, I remember seeing one of its offices around that area. Something about employing displaced immigrants… The O’Brien foundation, I believe it was called.”
“Huh,” Michael remarked, “That’s Ciara’s family name.”
“Does she have something to do with this?”
“Very likely. Her family is involved in the sex trafficking business.”
Magnus growled under his breath.
“Right in broad daylight too.”
“So, what do you plan to do about it?” Michael asked.
“You have some suggestions on that front?” Lucia responded with a question of her own.
“I suggest keeping it simple. Lionel’s a predator. Swipe at his food, and he’ll retaliate.”
“He’s that predictable to you, is he?”
Michael shrugged.
“I’m just following a pattern. I have been wrong before, though. Regarding you specifically. This is just me learning from that mistake.”
“Oh? How, exactly?”
“Well, I remember how you hated your father. I was young and stupid, and I guessed those were abandonment issues. Then the most curious thing happened. He arrived in America on some pretext or the other, and I’d never seen you more irritable and high strung. In fact, your spirits noticeably lifted when he actually left. I misattributed your feelings towards him; they were simply feelings of territoriality between two predators. The simplest explanation is often the best one.”
“Might be a bit too obvious,” Magnus said.
“Doesn’t really matter,” Lucia replied, before Michael could, “He’ll attack all the same. There’s little reason for him to see us as a threat.”
“And are we a threat?”
“We’ll find out, won’t we? How do you propose striking first?”