"So, whereabouts in Rhad are you moving to?"
Looking in the direction of his sisters voice, Jordan saw the inquisitive gaze of Vivian as she drifted towards him from above at a negligible speed, causing the mirrored expressions of his friends to rise from behind her head like a celestial body
"Don't know yet." Jordan turned back to his window with a shrug. "Somewhere outside of anyone else's territory. Our siblings included."
"True." Viv shrugged. Pushed herself off of Jordan's chair to halt and then reverse her vector of motion. "I would say I'd come visit you, but." She inhaled sharply through her teeth. "No thanks."
"I'm sure you'll be leaving right after the wedding anyways." Jordan shrugged with his hands. "So, we'll see you eventually."
"What's Rhad?" Gelos leaned across his seat towards her.
"Wow." Viv chuckled. "You really don't tell them anything, do you?"
"Rhadamanthus," Tobias explained from his seat adjacent to Jordan. "What the Mid-levels of the Ganglands is called. A metropolis that stretches across most of the habitation layer."
"Is there anything else my brother forgot to mention?" Viv snorted.
"Oh, most definitely." Tobias sighed.
While he was undoubtedly right, Jordan chose to amiably ignore them. It wasn't his fault if his friends refused to access the information literally stored within their eye scanners. So instead, he looked around at his high spirited friends and their new eye catching gear, feeling a mild satisfaction from the successful results of their mini vacation.
Tobias for instance not only brooded less frequently and was far more talkative than he was before, but also seemed to be taking cautious care of the coverall style hoodie he was dressed in; it's surface textured in the same feathery material as his vac-suit and matched with loafer-type shoes. Especially when Jordan considered the fact he'd used his older coveralls like napkins. A stark difference from the meek attitude he displayed in Ananke and the under the radar state of mind he had in the Power of Ganymede.
"Attention New Bran passengers! Please migrate to Docking Bay A at this time. I say again- New Bran Passengers, please migrate to Docking Bay A at this time."
"That's us." Viv grinned, pushing herself away while the pilots voice went on to echo through the vessel two more times.
With a grunt, Zoltan pulled himself out of his chair and kicked off his seat to trail behind Viv in the direction of porthole in the corner of the room; usually accessible by a ladder while under thrust. By Jordan's opinion, he was dressed the most normal of them all. A simple dress suit with the jacket fastened and the first few buttons of his shirt left undone to expose the ghostly skin underneath. For all intents and purposes, he looked just the part of a club owner; minus the glasses and flashy jewelry.
Gelos on the other hand, had a pair of olive-green baggy shorts that bottomed out at a burnt-orange seam at the base of his knees, leaving the upper portions of his shins visible up to the thick tops of the jump boots he'd acquired shortly after his promotion. Visually, they appeared no different from a pair of designer high-top sneakers, albeit thicker on the soles and around the ankle from being padded with insulation and fuel reservoirs. Covering his chest was a sleeveless tangzhuang, pigmented in the same color scheme as his shorts and left unbuttoned from top to bottom; making it appear as if he were really flying as he trailed after the others.
Following after them, Jordan they pulled himself through the hole and into the center of the hangars in the lower deck. An I-shaped region that announced the start of the industrial areas of the vessel by way of the posh leathers and carpets of the guest section changing into a chrome and steal palate, accented with padded walls and railings throughout.
Vanessa and Val were already waiting in a far corner, next to a large sign with the letter A displayed brightly across the surface.
As soon as he moved into range, Vanessa kicked off the wall to launch herself on a direct intercept towards Jordan with her arms spread wide.
We'll see you soon, right?" She asked after being caught in Jordan's embrace.
"Right after we get moved in." Jordan nodded, pushing her away. "I'll stop by to see everyone. And give them a tour of the house."
"See you then." She gave a warm smile at Jordan and the rest of them before turning away to move through the airlock and into a relatively cramped interior of their skiff. While the vessel was as posh and stylish as the interior of its mother craft, the skiff only held around twenty to twenty-five seats, all of which were wrapped around the walls and corners of the deck like L-shaped couches and facing the pilot seat at the center.
After their goodbye's and waves, Vivian and Valerie pulled themselves inside and scattered themselves throughout the interior to restrain themselves into their seats. A few moments later they were followed pilot, wordlessly entering and triggering the shuttle's airlock to seal them off. After a few moments the skiffs door sealed, leaving a small space of a few centimeters in between the two locks that was quickly pumped out to a vacuum before the skiff silently undocked.
The four of them; Jordan; Gelos; Zoltan and Tobias, huddled around the airlock for the next few moments. Gathered in whatever orientation would grant them a view of the skiff drifting away bit by bit. From the outside, it looked like a child's drawing of a house- A pyramid roof that sat atop a plain cube frame and a large bell-shaped nozzle under the frame. They watched in silence at the vessel regressing to a singular pixel that shined within the black until the warning alarms rang. Triggering the drives to reignite and causing a slight sense of vertigo to overcome Jordan as the deck came scrambling up to meet him.
One by one, they slammed into the metallic panels of the floor, eliciting a series of loud slaps to echo through the hanger before a melody of curses was added to the ambiance.
"Jeez!" Zoltan screamed into the floor before pushing himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders in their sockets and letting out a groan of relief. "This pilot is the worst."
"Yeah, he's getting stars from me!" Gelos upturned his nose and snorted.
With Tobias on his feet, the three wordlessly turned to start migrating back to their seats, cursing the pilot and all he stood for under their breaths. "Wait!" Jordan lunged after them, warranting more than confused expressions from the lot of them after they turned. "There's some things we need to discuss."
With no further words, Jordan accessed the local maps of the Ganglands and shared his augmented vision with all of them. Causing a hologram of the entire habitat to appear above the ground at the center of their circle. In Jordan's mind, it looked like a section of a ladder, three rungs long with massive cylinders placed between. Massive wing-like radiators extended far from the outside of the scaffold to regulate and radiate the massive heat generated by its hundreds of trillions of inhabitants.
After zooming in on the residential drum, the cylinder detached itself from the scaffold and unfurled itself in before them to reveal the three levels of the habitat like the individual floors of a building seen through a wall. Only the floors were 4,600 kilometers long on the horizontal axis; nearly 3,000 on the vertical, and the ceilings were 10 kilometers high. Scales that were comparable to terrestrial continents, but completely climate controlled and filled with enough flora and fauna to convince its inhabitants of the natural thing.
"Since most of the gangs have control of one or more of the support spires, the territories are more or less the same on all levels." Jordan began explaining.
"Makes sense." Tobias nodded. "At least from a logistical standpoint. Considering how big they are, it's almost a necessity."
"Right." Jordan nodded while focusing on the middle layer. At his command, the top and bottom layers faded from view before the remaining one repositioned itself on the ground in front of them at a rough forty-five degree angle, giving them a good perspective to judge the height of the many buildings sprawling throughout the landscape. "Now, they're listed as districts." Jordan looked each of them in the eye in turn and spoke slowly to cement his words into their minds. "But you have to remember that the mid-level alone is the size of a continent. So, these districts are more like countries than parts of a city. And, while the territories are officially claimed by the 12 larger gangs, smaller factions are always competing with the others within them for merit. With a few exceptions- Akai Ten, Rioters, Monks, and Sky Riders."
"Okay." Gelos nodded first. Then threw a deflated look towards Jordan. "But, why is it so cold. Negative three!?" He groaned.
He pointed above the map, where all the standard information one would want to know about the environment was sprawled above the topography- The direction of spin pointing towards the top of the map, cardinal directions, the current weather condition and forecast, even topographical lines that continued far beneath the waterline to mark the depths of the many winding rivers that snaked, branched off and flowed throughout the habitat from left-to right; east to west.
"The climate is set to mimic a humid subtropical climate," Jordan said. "It's February, so it's winter."
"Dammit." Gelos cursed under his breath. "I'm gonna need to change.
Ignoring him, Jordan set the map to pan across the landscape from left to right.
Stretching from north-to-south alongside the eastern wall of the habitat was a thick band of wildlands with biomes that ranged from dense jungles to vast savannas and continued west for exactly three hundred kilometers before abruptly halting at a sunken highway that ran parallel to the woods to form a continuous loop around the habitat's circumference. Hundreds upon hundreds of exit ramps sprouted from the western side of the road to lead deeper into sprawling cities, and more sporadically towards the massive support spires spaced at regular intervals across the map.
Seemingly as large as the spires were two interchanges that gave access to the highways running perpendicular to the loop across the center and the top and bottom borders of the map; cutting straight through the city towards a second vertical loop on the western end of the habitat that formed a natural border to the beach front and relatively shallow ocean that continued on for the remaining 300 kilometers to the end cap.
From the eastern most supports, 1,265 kilometers of low, stony hills; wide, winding rivers and hundreds of towns, villages and cites separated the eastern-most columns from the set of four that formed a meridian through the 'city' of Rhadamanthus. A metropolis with an undefined shape that nearly encompassed the entirety of its little cage. An amalgamation of amorphous blobs; of vastly differing regions, as Jordan saw it. Blatantly differentiated from the next through variations in architecture, city and road layout, and every other visual aspect one could think of.
After enough time for them to fully study the map had passed, Jordan focused to resize the map onto a modestly sized region that surrounded the northernmost center spire for three to four-hundred kilometers on all sides and continuing up the entire length of the structure. "Support Spire A-2." The region became enveloped in an amber aura as Jordan pointed towards it. "Sky Rider territory. Also known as Cloud's End." Once the region had been filled in, the Sky Rider's insignia slowly augmented into appearance beside the structure- A detailed painting of a skull with glowering red eyes, a combat helmet and gas mask, centered before a backdrop of a cloudy amber sky.
Without pause, Jordan panned the map to the right; west, to overlook a vast complex of warehouses, industrial complexes and suburbs that stretched from the Sky Rider's border, all the way to the next spire that overlooked the beach; S.S: A-3. "The Chaos Lands belongs to The Rioters," Jordan said as a white aura began to shroud the region, followed by Konton, the Kanji for chaos, appearing above it. "Allies to the Astros Clan." He added.
Without pause, Jordan panned the map down and highlighted a huge region of suburbs and low rise cities that encompassed the two middle spires; B and C-3, and the lands a few hundred kilometers to the north and south of them. "Just below them is the Mob's empire," Jordan said as he highlighted the region in an olive green hue. The territory continued far east, growing into a denser city with each passing kilometer as it extended to more than halfway to the center spires on the northern end of the territory, and less than a quarter of the distance at the southern end. As with the others, the insignia of an alien head with green skin and large black eyes appeared above the center of the area.
Moving onto the next district, the map recentered on its initial position before tilting down and zooming out to see the entirety of a dense pocket of towering buildings, wide streets and coiling walkways that wound and curved throughout the entirety of the district and snaked underneath and over each other to rise to penthouse levels or descend underground deep underground. "Akai Ten's territory stretches all the way from the Sky Rider's southern border, to the northern border of Green Street at Support Spire B-2. And all the way west to the western highway loop." Jordan trailed his finger left to pan the map across the extensive plains, hills and industrial or residential pockets until the entirety of the northwestern quadrant of the map was centered before them and encompassed in a crimson hue.
Jordan waited until their insignia of a black flag with a red sphere centered on it faded into view before tilting the map south, past the highway and onto a circular region with a radius of roughly 300 kilometers, filled almost entirely with sprawling streets and warehouses. "The Mariners and their racing circuits," Jordan said as the logo of a simple steering wheel appeared within the black aura. From there, the lands reaching to the west and southwest towards SS: C and D-1 and the highways beyond them were left unclaimed by any of the named groups.
And several hundred kilometers south as well, until the curvature of a wide river broke apart the land. Forming a natural border for a region of small towns and a few vibrant cities to occupy on the southwestern area of the map. "La Volpe country." Jordan pointed at the pink hue spreading over the area and the comical drawing of a fox above it.
Centered around Support Spire C-3, above and to the right of La Volpe country, was a large spherical region that stretched north to Akai Ten's border at SS: B-2, and all the way south to SS: D-2. It was a country of gridlocked cities and towering complexes that spread outwards from the center to a ring of neighborhood and suburbs at the border. "This is Green Street," Jordan said. Triggering the letters 'GS' to appear in a graffiti style above the map before he tilted down to focus on the bottom center of the map.
The entirety of SS: D-2 became shrouded in a gray aura at Jordan's command, followed by a Yin-Yang symbol that'd been grayed out to the point that Jordan had to look closely in order to see anything other than an ashen circle. The digital storm-cloud dropped from the tower and spread 150 kilometers over the rolling plains surrounding it in each direction before terminating at a walled border that encircled the tower. "And this," Jordan said. "Is the Monk's Monastery."
Moving east across a relatively small expanse of unclaimed land, Jordan pointed his finger at the junction of a river along Green Street's border. From there, he traced north, following the curvature of eastern Green Street until he reached the Mob's southwestern border near the centerline highway of the habitat, then directly southeast towards SS: D-3. As his finger fell through the map, the area was highlighted in an electric blue aura and accented with a picture of the sun rising from a rusted horizon, spreading radiant blue light rays from the center.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
"I'm thinking we move somewhere around here." Jordan panned back to the expanse he passed over earlier and pointed to a region centered between the borders of Blue Dawn, Green Street and the Monk's Monastery.
Zooming in, they could see that the region was about 110 kilometers from end-to-end, and straddled by two rivers on the northern and southern side. With the Monk's border on the western end and the junction of the two rivers to the east, the entire region was naturally protected from any would-be threats. Spread out around the land were six areas that were large and dense enough to be called towns; the largest of which was at the center of the unclaimed territory.
"What about here?" Tobias zoomed in to the south. To the smallest town of them all, standing alone among a pocket of forest.
It had everything they'd ever need- A hospital, charging stations for their vehicles, and best of all, an assortment of restaurants and diners to choose from. Even more appealing to Jordan however, were the dense forests that continued south of the town, past the river and on for several hundred kilometers before terminating at the crossroad and the borders of the Chaos Lands.
"It's perfect." Jordan grinned.
"It's small." Gelos snorted.
"Remember." Jordan chuckled as he dismissed the map and rose to his feet. "Continent-sized territories."
"Right." Gelos snorted again before turning towards the ladders.
"We'll be dropping in from Support Spire D-2." Jordan fell in line behind him as he continued speaking. "Any Monks we see should leave us alone, so long as we don't do anything crazy."
"May as well us my truck." Zoltan grunted from the rear. "Unless you two want to ride in the cold." He chuckled.
"Sure." Gelos shrugged.
"You may as well drive us all." Tobias commented.
In his desperate want to ride; to feel the wind against his face, Jordan nearly declined. But instead he remained silent as he followed after Gelos to their seats.
The drives; and in turn the apparent gravity, shut off just as they made it back in their seats. Affording them clear views of their new home as the vessel slowly crept towards the habitat.
From the outside, it appeared much the same as the one seen in Ananke- Two massive cylinders cradled inside a winged scaffold, only made much more visible from their current angle, relative to both the habitat and the dim, distant sun.
The actual docking process was as unremarkable as any other time that Jordan had sat through. A bunch of watching the hangars creep closer and waiting until a robotic arm reached out to grab hold of the shuttle and drag it inside to a docking port.
As the docking tube extended and the passengers began to crowd to the airlock, Jordan felt a strange sense of excitement welling within his gut.
Moving into the Ganglands was something Jordan had seen himself doing since before he could remember. Listening to the stories told by his siblings returning home were almost as fantastical as the shows and games he grew up playing, spurring his dreams of one day stepping foot inside the infamous world. Dreams that he'd forgotten ever existed, until this very moment.
The group diverged from the mob as soon as they left the terminal and moved towards the transport tubes, huddled close in a diamond formation while each pair of individual eyes took long looks around the voluminous hangar complex. The 'floor' they were attached to and the one at its zenith were both filled with booths, kiosks and shoppettes along the edges and center for the columns of civilians steadily moving throughout the space to be distracted by; all of which were crowded by elaborately dressed individuals who scanned the passing civilians with close eyes. Perpendicular to the floors were brick-textured walls with omni-directional screens, benches, tables and other infrastructure where the different groups were all gathered; talking, bickering and sometimes even arguing amongst themselves.
Without saying anything, Jordan inconspicuously trailed his eyes over the different groups as they moved to highlight their parent organizations and share them with his friends for their sake.
Akai Ten's members were made distinguishable at a moments notice by way of their sleek, tailored, black and red suits and tattooed members. Green street by their taste in flashy designer clothes and jewelry. The Mob by their industrial theme of plain green coveralls, worn in every way imaginable. Blue Dawn's members wore black tops; mostly sweaters, coupled with blue jeans or slacks. Even the raggedly dressed Rioters were immediately noticeable.
They managed to catch a few intriguing gazes by the time they arrived at the transport tube access but luckily no one followed them, allowing them to crowd into one of the pods without issue and catch some form of relaxation before their descent. One by one, they pulled into the tube and strapped themselves in to the restraints lining pod, then fell into a companionable silence once they accelerated away past the metal shroud of the hangar.
Even from this height and from within the thick, glass walls of the transport tube, the stinging cold of the habitat bit through to Jordan's face. Dozens of kilometers below, a vast blanket of white snow was spread across the foggy landscapes. Broken apart only by the winding roads, snaking rivers and towering buildings that feebly pointed towards the axis of rotation.
"God damn!" A dense cloud of fog enveloped Gelos' head as he shuddered in his restraints.
After reaching the second set of spires, their pod diverged towards the elevator shafts lining the exterior of the support structure and reoriented itself so that its passengers would descend feet-first down the shaft. Their change in direction gave awe inspiring views of an even greater clarity than before. Along with a cold that only magnified with each passing kilometer, spurring an endless song of complaints to be sung from Gelos for what Jordan was sure to be the rest of their descent through the inner surface.
Once they'd passed through the clouds, the structure behind them suddenly changed in appearance from the utilitarian metal panels of the standard spire, to a series of hard hill roofs that jutted a few meters out from the structure in an endlessly repeating fashion down the column; creating hundreds upon hundreds of balconies and floors within the towering structure.
"There's no way they use all this." Zoltan gasped as he stared at the cascading floors whipping by with wide eyes.
Naturally, the sight terminated as they passed through the kilometers of 'bedmetal' supporting the inner layer and continued the moment they breached the ceiling of the mid-levels, causing more shock to befall the "Daimon.' As for the layer itself, it appeared much the same as the inner surface. A lumpy landscape encased in white, striped with winding roads and rivers and a foggy sky broken apart by scattered skyscrapers.
[February 113th. GPY 3. Gray Tower, Rhadamanthus. Europa. 2058. Universal. Europa. Time.]
[Gravity: 1g (Apparent)]
[Atmosphere: O2, N2]
[Pressure: 95.804 kPa]
[Temperature: -4 C]
[Merit: 4,240]
Though they rarely saw them on the descent, the Monks could be seen in every direction as they slowed to a halt on the surface and eventually poured out of the elevator into a sea of bald foreheads, long ponytails and traditional Shaolin garb that'd been dyed a morally ambiguous gray. They walked in neat rows along the center of the wide walkways that formed a grid around the area; heated paths of made with stone slabs and stairs and straddled with bonsai trees and orchards throughout, with their eyes forward and their arms clasped behind their backs as they walked in step, it appeared as if the hundreds of civilians mucking about in their territory were completely invisible to them.
They followed along the wall of the spire towards the vehicular elevators, inadvertently following a few of them before they stopped a few meters away from the massive garage doors. Prompting Gelos to sprawl out onto the floor and let out a sigh of relief as the heated floors began to soothe his frigid back. "Do they not get cold?" He wondered, looking around.
Jordan wondered much the same as he craned his neck up to see the hundreds of Monks peering over or standing on the thousands of terraces stretching up the traditionally detailed column from base to summit. "Apparently, they're forbidden from getting any implants." Jordan off-handedly commented. "Aside from respirocytes, a sensory suite or bone and muscle enhancements. So." He turned back to Gelos with a shrug. "I don't think so."
"Which means you have no right to complain, Gelos." Zoltan chuckled before stepping off towards the elevator. "We're up."
At his words, Gelos jumped up from the floor and darted into the middle door of Zoltan's truck before Jordan and Tobias could even step after him. Tobias crawled in after him, leaving the passenger seat open for Jordan to occupy.
From the Monks' border, it was a 200 kilometer drive to their destination. The entirety of which was traversed at highest speed the winding roads would allow, giving them just over an hour to take in the quickly passing environment. Mostly of the expansive grids of Green Street's territory on the other side of the river and the many small-time factions warring against each other within it. At any given second, Jordan could zoom in across the distance and catch witness to any number of street brawls or shootouts, or catch glimpses of masked people breaking into buildings or dealing drugs and even weapons off the streets; hanging off the balconies and rooftops of the densely crowded residential towers as they danced and drank and smoked in tune with the music breaching the night.
That wasn't to say the territories were entirely segregated. Even here, on their side of the river, Jordan could see the conspicuously designed commercial hubs, posh suburbs and neighborhoods of Akai Ten and a few other gangs that were all made immediately noticeable by the seemingly overbearing quality of the infrastructure and the similarly dressed members idly standing near or just inside the buildings.
As they rode closer into their new district, the signs of mixed groups became more and more apparent. More than that, the individual gangsters that could be seen became more and more ambiguous to the point that it was clear that the groups in question had transitioned subsidiary organizations to nameless punks like Jordan and his own crew. The region they were in was comparable to a state; or province. A curved, teardrop region that formed the start of the expansive free zone between the Monks, Blue Dawn and Rioters territories. Even with the largest city at the center of the region, none of the six worthy hamlets or villages strewn throughout the land could definitively be called the capital of the region. Each of them held just as few amenities as the next, regardless of their differences in surface area.
The town they'd chosen was nothing remarkable, a small place that went by the name of Wayland with no more than a thousand documented residents living within it. One main road ran gave access to Wayland from the north and stretch south through the entire town. And two more ran through that from east to west, forming a sort of city center between the blocks where a market, transport hub and all the city services were located. Just outside of that were a few large apartment complexes that looked out over the entire town, with nothing but houses and, diners and empty woods beyond that.
Zoltan drove slow down the main street, allowing the others more than enough time to look down the avenues and find a decent place to call home. While there were many vacant lots, they found nothing that openly appealed to them; only standard parcels that were completely exposed on all sides. And so, they continued south until they passed through Wayland proper and followed the road to a bridge at the southern river.
"Battery's dying." Zoltan groaned before beginning to turn the truck around.
Without warning, Gelos leaned up from the backseat and pointed back down from where they came. "Let's go down that road we passed earlier," he said. "I thought I saw something."
With an affirmatory grunt, Zoltan floored the truck and sped down the road for about three kilometers before slowing to a stop before an unimposing fork in the road that led into a deeply wooded section to their right.
"Yeah." Gelos leaned forward between the seats once again to point towards the treetops beyond Jordan's window. "See it?"
With his vision altered to see more in infrared, Jordan followed Gelos' finger to a pointed structure jutting out from the treeline. Unlike the cold, blacked treetops surrounding it, the clearly artificial structure glowed subtly with heat.
"Is that a warehouse?" Zoltan wondered out loud.
"Let's find out." Jordan grinned.
Slowly, Zoltan pulled down the road and followed it northeast for a couple hundred meters through a patch of dense woods before the road suddenly veered to the left, giving way to a relatively small, elliptical lot no larger in size than 100 by 75 meters. The road continued along the riverbank to their right for around sixty meters before terminating at a dense woodline.
"This is nice," Gelos said with awe.
"The river makes a natural barrier." Jordan nodded. "One way in. And we can have many ways out constructed."
"There's more than enough room for all of us. It's expansive. Secluded. And best of all." Zoltan grinned wide and nodded to the warehouse beyond Jordan's window. "Free real estate."
"Which is the only problem." Tobias sighed. "Someone's clearly in there. Building's too hot for there not to be."
"He's right." Jordan nodded. The potential dangers were too high. It could be any number of things inside that warehouse; stolen goods; kidnapped people; items meant to be smuggled somewhere; or nothing at all. "I'll go scout it out," he said as he reached for the door. "Hopefully it's just some nameless punks and we can just fight them for the lot."
"Is that really necessary?" Tobias groaned.
"Why not?" Jordan asked.
"Not everyone is as eager to fight as you, Jordan."
"But someone is." Zoltan chuckled, pointing over Jordan to Gelos striding purposefully towards the front door.
"I'm not saying we kill them." Jordan turned back to Tobias with a sigh. "Just drive them off with an old fashioned beating."
"He's waiting for you." Zoltan pointed again.
Though he clearly held reservations, Tobias said nothing more as Jordan left the truck and waddled over to a masked Gelos.
Jordan pointed upwards as he moved to Gelos' side, specifically towards the line of windows surrounding the structure just below the roof. "I'll give you the signal to breach if it's all clear."
Gelos nodded without hesitation. "Okay."
After moving around the corner, Jordan gently placed his palm onto the wall before activating the magnets in his palm. Leaning back slowly, he tested the grip against his weight and only after being satisfied, repeated the motion with his other palm and began pulling himself up.
Place. Activate. Pull. And release. Slowly, steadily, bit by bit, Jordan palmed his way up the face of the warehouse until he to top of his head sat just below the window. With a few deep breaths to prepare himself to see the worst, Jordan pulled up on his arms until he was able to peer through the window.
'What… the fuck?'
Jordan had to force himself not to openly voice his confusion after taking a single look into the interior and quickly pulled his head below cover before connecting to the comms. "Pull them out, Gelos."
Within the next few seconds of climbing down the building, the sounds of an explosive bang, horrific screams, violent shouts and car doors slamming shut rang through the silent night like a scene from a horror film.
Hearing such things, Jordan made his way down as quickly as he could and rounded the corner to find a man and a woman knelt before Gelos with their arms raised high overhead.
"Just a bunch of squatters." Gelos spat with obvious disappointment. "They don't even want to fight."
Looking at the two of them, Jordan could see they were hovering around 1,100 points. Looking through the deeply dented door, Jordan confirmed what he saw from the window. Two sleeping bags in the center of a veritably trashed workshop.
"I don't blame you." Jordan distantly comment, turning back towards them. With only a hundred points to spare, the margin was small. He didn't blame them, one wrong move; one impalement, and its back to the lower levels for them. "That said." Jordan continued in a much colder tone. "We're commandeering this warehouse, and this neighborhood as well. You can fight us for it, or you can just give it up and walk away."
"Or." Tobias stepped into place at Jordan's shoulder. "I think we can find some use for them. A bar needs bartenders, right?" He nodded to Zoltan with a grin before pulling the two squatters to their feet, cradling them under his arms and walking off across the lot.
The three left standing exchanged a few shrugs with each other before turning their attention back to the warehouse and surrounding area to start throwing digital overlays of their designs in various places to see where they'd best fit.
"Isn't it too close to the water?" Gelos asked after a few moments. "Won't we be targeted by." He paused to take a sudden gulp of air like he was choking. Then doubled over on his knees and began cackling madly. "By the Merfolk?"
For once, Jordan joined in on Zoltan and Gelos' roiling laughter; though to not as high a degree as them. "Nah." He shook his head, chuckling. "They'd only care if we ever traveled on the water. The Black Flags are more of a threat to us than them."
"I wouldn't mind some mermaids in my bar." Zoltan sighed to himself before jerking his thumb towards the warehouse. "I call dibs."
In his peripherals, Jordan saw Zoltan turned towards the both them with an expectant look on his face. One that immediately wrinkled to disappointment after seeing Gelos reply with an amiable nod while looking the other way and noticing Jordan outright ignore him.
"I think we're all settled." Tobias called, approaching with the other two straddling his sides with a satisfactory grin stamped onto his face. "This is Pucelle and Coco Malvolio." He announced, gesturing first to the gentleman. "Pucelle is willing to learn the ins and outs of mechanics. While Coco says she has experience in hospitality, and is willing to learn how to bartend."
"Great!" Zoltan exclaimed.
"They'll be staying in my shop until they have enough merit to build their own homes." Tobias continued before turning to point to the far side of the lot. "There. It'll be a charging station and auto shop. With my house on top.
Jordan, only half-listening to their words, remained focused on the wired outlines of his future home as it reoriented and adjusted itself around the dead end road and riverbank until he was satisfied with the position. Once verified, the location was tagged and sent to the construction company.
'Finally.' Jordan grinned proudly as the confirmations flashed in his eyes. While receiving his motorcycle installing his new tools within his arms were historic moments for him, they were tame in comparison to finally having a place of his own design to call home.
Even if it had yet to be constructed.
"Yeah." Gelos commented in a curios tone, as if he just had a great idea had just hit him and he just now decided to act on it. "I'll build my place right here."
Despite the assurance of his words, he maintained his distant gaze as he followed everyone into the bar and spent upwards of an hour in the same state before his blueprints were finalized, by which time Zoltan had already returned from Wayland with a few cases of beers, wines and liquor to start his bar out with.
"In celebration of finding our new home!" Zoltan cheered as he sprayed the area with a freshly popped bottle of champagne. "And, to our new guests!"
He eagerly moved around the crowd to begin passing out drinks. First to Tobias and the Malvolio siblings chatting away near their sleeping bags, then to Jordan and Gelos standing idly by the door and vacantly looking about at whatever augmented realities they'd conjured. An episode of Guacho Bop, in Jordan's case.
By the third round and second episode, the large buses carrying a mountain of material and a swarm of construction drones wheeled themselves into the neighborhood and parked all along the road.
Collectively, they stood in awe watching the massive machines autonomously dismount and spread across the area until the machines eventually made it inside. At which time they all simultaneously halted and began shouting warning tones at them, essentially kicking them out.
Begrudgingly, they took their alcohol under arms and went on the retreat to Zoltan's truck. After relocating just inside the woodline near the exit, the drinking, awed gazes and conversation continued for hours and hours until they all passed out in the seats.