Sonya sat back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. The story that Chunhua had told was strange, she didn’t recognize any of the characters in it but her gut told her that it was important somehow. It was like Chunhua was trying to explain something without explaining it. She rubbed her chin, Did it have something to do with her vision after ascending to the next stage of her ability? Was the Penny character Pandora? She scratched her neck and sighed. She just didn’t have enough information and she wasn’t about to go down the rabbit hole of conspiracy theories.
Her lip curled into a small smile, Speaking of which.
She waved her hand and the monitors floating around the room condensed and shifted about again, “Show me Martin Fuller. Breakdown of his current movements based on existing intelligence, notable transactions, and any quotes that have been recorded and are worth listening to,” She said aloud and the screens flickered again. In an instant numerous camera images of Martin showed up in her field of view, different angles, all of them watching as he made his way from place to place. His yellow eyes gleaming in each image. Her lip twitched, Between Amos, The Night Society, Charon, and Kingsharks men, I can keep an eye on you. It’s a huge investment for one man, but I think it’s worth it.
She watched him walk down an alley in one video and glance up at the camera, a frown on his face.
Do you know I’m watching? She thought with amusement before chuckling a little, What’re you gonna do about it detective? She crossed her legs and held out her hand, a can of soda appearing in it. She cracked it open and sipped, No worthwhile quotes. He’s being careful to avoid recording devices somehow. Her eyebrow rose, Or he’s not saying much, which wouldn’t surprise me honestly. She snorted and sipped her drink. She glanced down at it and glanced around. She knew no one was there but she just wanted to make sure Carla didn’t sneak up and tease her about the next part. A hard light straw appeared in the can. She sipped through it and leaned forward, Transactions, flights… already in Paris! Good for you!
She set the can down, I’m curious what will happen when you lay eyes on him for the first time, Detective, she thought smugly. Good luck! I’m counting on you.
That was when something happened on one of the feeds and she leaned forward, the straw slipping out of her lips as she squinted only to lean back with a laugh, “You little fucker!” She cackled and kicked her feet, “Someone thinks he’s a comedian. Alright, game on.”
–
Martin glanced up at the camera and frowned. Every time he saw one he had a feeling that she was able to see him somehow. It was an indirect feeling usually, like it was saving a recording. This time, though, his eyes told him otherwise. He stopped in front of the camera and stared into it, tilting his head and fishing through his pockets for what he’d prepared for this exact moment. A few seconds later he pulled out a business card with the words ‘Enjoying the show, ASTArte?’. He grinned at the camera and shoved the card back into his pocket, walking away..
To think she used a damn pun for the acronym of her company’s name. How has no one else noticed it? He scoffed. Making his way around a corner and into an alley. His eyes narrowed and he felt the heat building in them for a moment before the world was illuminated before him. He shuffled through the degeneracy that took place in the alley, the befoulment, the sadness, the sickness, until he found what he was looking for. A single man stood next to the wall, he was thin but athletic, his smile a bit coy. He wore a suit despite his surroundings and seemed utterly unbothered by the filth. He reached out and pushed in one of the bricks and the wall opened up for him.
Martin blinked and his vision returned to normal, he turned his eyes from the alley itself to the point on the wall the image had indicated. He walked over to it and frowned, it looked completely indistinct from the rest of the wall. He reached up and pressed his fingers against it and without hesitation it depressed, sliding into the wall before clicking once. The wall soundlessly slid down in front of him, revealing a stairwell going down. His eyes narrowed and he clicked his tongue when no lights came on. Typical. He fished through his pockets before pulling out a lighter and glaring at it. He glanced down the passage, I could use my eyes.
He considered what Chernovna had said during an interview once. That she and her team ‘theorized’ that powers were like a muscle, they need to be worked to be strengthened. It annoys me that I need to take advice from her, but it’ll do. He thought as he stepped into the darkness, his eyes lighting up and the space before him covered with a yellow-gold hue. He could see clearly despite it. As he did he felt something in the air to his right and glanced over, his lips curling downward. “You’re nosy,” He grunted to the floating pink digital-looking eye.
The eye flickered and turned into a face that laughed impishly at him before vanishing. He clicked his tongue, Crazy bitch. He grumbled and continued down the stairs. Her range is monstrous, though I suppose as long as she has a general idea of where something is, she can pinpoint. She used the field of view of the camera and then followed me. I need to be more cautious. He thought grimly as he found the base of the stairs. A tunnel stretched out in front of him with a small stream of water going down the way on his left. He reached up and adjusted his hat, stalking forward. I should have brought a weapon. As an ordinary citizen it was far harder to get a weapon past customs and France was on high alert after what happened in The Hague.
He felt that presence again and spun around, shoving his hand into his pocket and grabbing the first thing he felt. He tossed it at the pink floating eye that was now following him, “Would you quit following me you goddamn voyeur!” He barked, annoyed, and threw his lighter through the eye. It vanished and he huffed, grumbling irritably as a splash echoed in the tunnel. He blinked and looked at his hand and then at the water, watching his lighter float by. He stared at it for several seconds before letting out a sigh and reaching up to scratch his scruffy chin, “Let her annoy me, damn it. I can practically hear her laughing at me.”
–
Sonya leaned forward across her desk, slapping her fist down on it and laughing. She held onto the desk, trying to support herself as she watched Martin mourn his lighter. She sniffed and leaned back as a chime rang out in her office. She glanced up and reached out with her senses, feeling Carla on the other side, “Welp, guess it’s time for bed!” She snickered and slipped out of her chair, waving her hand over the crystal and deactivating it, “I’ll check on you later, have fun in the sewers, detective,” She snickered.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
–
He felt her presence completely vanish this time and let out a sigh of relief, “Finally,” He grumbled and rubbed his neck, “Makes my damn skin crawl,” He muttered before pausing and glancing down the passage. He saw no movement. He let out a breath, I got loud. Looks like there are no guards, I doubt they’d be expecting anyone to just stumble on this place that easily. He glanced again over his shoulder at the spot where her eye had been floating. Did she notice that I sensed her? He chastised himself and flexed his fingers, feeling the senses in his body react to even the smallest movements around him. It was maddening at times.
If I drink more it’ll cut it down, but look where being drunk gets me. He grumbled.
He wasn’t sure if it was an ability of its own or if it was something else. He was still figuring it out and had only realized how intense they’d become recently. If it was an ability, it didn’t come with an instinct of its own. Instead, it provided him with something far more valuable. Clear and complete understanding of Gaze of Mimir. Not just the bare minimum instinct a normal person started with, every nook and cranny of the power.
Fat lot of good it does me when my state of mind and the one most compatible with the power are so damn far apart, he thought irritably. Even so, he clenched his fist, I can never let that woman touch my hand. Thanks to the Gaze I know how her powers work and why she wanted to shake my hand so badly. He clicked his tongue, Gaze of Mimir would be bad enough in her hands, but instincts that could let her perfectly understand her powers? He shuddered and started walking, I feel like I’m walking around with a nuclear football.
He focused on the path in front of him, pushing the grim thoughts aside. His brow furrowed as he made his way down the passage, glancing around to get more detail on his surroundings. It’s an old sewer, out of use from the look of it. Just after Haussman’s refurbishment, then, lots of opportunities to build an entryway like this around then. Hardly any oversight. He rubbed his neck again and paused, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end. He frowned and turned to the right, glancing over the wall.
Another?
He took a few steps back and searched the history of the wall, the various shadows that walked past it. He ignored them, the flickering shapes, until finally he saw that man again. He was standing in front of the wall and saying something. Then the door opened. Martin tilted his head and squinted, walking around to get a better look at the man’s face. Damn if I can’t hear what he’s saying. Still not synchronized enough with the eyes. He thought irritably and watched the man’s lips. Give me something… come on… he squinted, pushing a bit more into the eyes as he tried again to relax his mind, pushing the wandering thoughts away as best he could.
L’humanite est betail.
Martin’s shoulders tensed, a wave of nausea running up his throat. He glanced at the wall again and swallowed hard, the very thought of repeating those words- he grit his teeth and shook his head. Whatever it takes. He thought before stepping into the spot where the man had stood and clearing his throat, “L’humanite est betail,” He said aloud, doing his best approximation of a french accent. It wasn’t great but it wasn’t terrible either. High School French was good for something at least, he chuckled as the a small chime rang out, the sound of a digital lock disengaging before the wall slid down revealing a new passage.
He stalked forward, moving more cautiously. The hairs on his neck were still standing on end, every sense in his body told him danger was nearby. He dipped low, pulling his hat down a bit to ease the glow of his eyes. He slipped forward into a short hallway with two offshooting passages going left and right. He pressed against the right wall and peered into that passage before turning his head left into the other. He stopped and squinted, A body? He thought, spotting the legs poking into the left passage from the side. He glanced back down the right passage before quickly moving to the side of the body, keeping his senses on high alert. Danger was close, but it looks like luck is smiling on me. He thought as he pulled the gun off the belt of the dead man.
He examined the man for a moment but only got a name and cursory information. He’d have to concentrate hard to get more and given the state of his nerves he didn’t have that kind of time. He checked the magazine, full. He glanced at the body again, the pool of blood originating from the man’s neck. Knife, one cut, very fast. He thought as he whipped the gun up and pointed it behind his own head. The next second a knife hesitated just an inch from his jugular, “I’m not much of a fighter,” He grumbled, “So I’d appreciate it if we just talked.”
“You’re not one of the slavers,” It was a woman’s voice, a bit hoarse, smoker? No. Singer. There was a rhythm to her words. Her accent was… Australian? What was she doing here? His senses told him she was still dangerous even with the gun in her face and the knife at bay. “Who are you?” She demanded.
He didn’t look back at her, “A disgraced detective,” He said honestly.
“You got a lot of nerve coming down into the belly of the beast, ‘detective’,” She growled, “You’re also dead weight as far as I’m concerned if you can’t fight. Gimme a reason to keep you alive. You’ve got ten-”
“Mythic. Ocular power. See the truth of what’s before me.” He cut her off.
“-seconds…” She trailed off, the danger in the air slipping immediately, “You’re not lying?”
“Can I turn around?” He asked.
She pulled her knife away from his neck and took a step back. He rose, slowly, and lowered his new weapon before turning to face her. He reached up and tilted his hat a bit, giving her a cursory look. She had red hair that was cut short, freckles across her nose and a pair of luminous green eyes. He paid little attention to her figure beyond the compression shirt and the cargo pants held up by a combat belt. His eyes told him the rest, “Addison Kelly, combat veteran, served in TAG, awakened and left the military after accidentally-”
He held up a hand, “Enough, that’s enough, I believe you,” She said cooly.
“Fine,” He grunted and shoved his new gun into his pocket. He glanced down the path behind her, “I’m looking into the man who owns this place.”
“You know who owns it?” She asked, incredulously.
“Superficially,” He grumbled, “I won’t know for certain until I lay eyes on him myself.”
She frowned, “Better than me, I’ve been following disappearances and human traffickers, it led me here.”
He scowled, He’s already started, then. Damn it. How many people has he- He closed his eyes and let out a breath. He opened his mouth to say something and then a face popped up in his mind. He closed his mouth and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “I’m moving on,” He grunted and started walking past her.
“Hold it,” She bit out, slapping the wall and blocking him. “Why don’t we-”
“Team up?” He interrupted her again, looking her square in the eyes, “I don’t do partners anymore,” He said with a sigh and dipped under her arm, “But if you happen to follow me, I can’t do a damn thing about it.”