Interlude 1: the Collective

“Doctor, I thought you said it would be a simple procedure.”

The Collective had the urge to choke the whiny fool but C-1 said instead. “And it went smoothly.”

“Smoothly!” The butler snapped. “Then what’s wrong with her?”

The butler jabbed a finger toward the old patient, strapped inside a med-pod, twitching at non-existent murmurs and muttering incoherent gibberish.

C-1 flicked her loose dreads over her shoulder and slid her hands into her white doctor’s coat. “Like I said before the surgery, there would be minor side effects but rest assured their temporary.”

The butler scrutinized the old patient through the glass window of the med-pod. Her vitals and other indicators flashed normally in the corner of the glass display. But the old woman’s mouth continued to work almost inaudibly with a crazed look in her constricted eyes.

“But she looks mad,” the butler said. “And I swear if you broke her—”

“I assure you she isn’t broken. Once the swelling in her brain eases she’ll stop hallucinating. Give it two to three days and she’ll be back to normal.”

The butler scowled and motioned toward the small windows of the sick bay. He crossed the room in economical strides and was dressed in a classic white suit with a golden pocket watch chain hanging from his suit’s middle button to his waistcoat pocket.

“Two to three days…two to three days…I can hold the fort for that long.”

The butler stopped, leaned his face toward the window, his hands pressed against the grey tiled window sill. He stared out into the central metropolis. Over the tall buildings, the sky was bleached grey, overcast and angry. A rainstorm was coming, but it was a welcomed rain, the first rain in months.

“I can hold the fort for that long,” the butler continued to himself. “The corporation might make take a few losses but it won’t be my fault right.”

Stolen story; please report.

The butler’s head dropped. “Can’t you give her something to quicken her recovery?”

“No,” C-1 said, exasperated.

‘If only assimilating was that easy. Not to mention the new member’s body is on the older side of its lifespan.’

But Winfrey Sainz was extremely healthy for a 60 year old. Modern medicine had done wonders for her well being and as majority shareholder of WinCorp she could afford the best healthcare the free cities had to offer. Hence the Collective strongly believed she’d pull through.

“I told her to wait,” the butler said. “I told her this wasn’t a good time, especially with the recent conflicts.” The butler swirled, marched back toward C-1. “But you had to go scare her with all that the sooner the better crap.”

He stabbed his finger into her shoulder repeatedly.

“Now our subsidiary companies are under attack and we don’t have our leader at the helm.”

C-1 raised an eyebrow. “Was it Pharma again?”

“Ye— How do you know about that?”

‘How to explain we share his boss’ mind now? How to explain we technically are his boss now?’

“Just rumours,” C-1 said.

“Just rumours?” The butler squinted at her. His hand motioned to the lower back of his white suit.

C-1 shrugged. “The conflicts between the big five corporations have been ramping up and battles have been spilling into public view, you thought us regular people wouldn’t add things up.”

“I see.” The butler relaxed, seemingly accepting the explanation.

“I heard WebTec and KaibaCore are also going at it,” C-1 said conversationally.

“You hear right,” he said.

The butler moved to the corner of the room and threw himself into a cushioned chair. He flicked out a vape from his chest pocket. He flicked it on, sucked on it and breathed out thick smoke.

“A storm is brewing,” the butler said. “One that will shake Gau City’s foundations to their very core.”

‘Why now though?’ The Collective thought.

The League of Five had always had its conflicts but they had always amounted to squabbles. They prioritized wealth over everything so they had always managed to coexist, until recently that is.

“What do you think the cause of all this is?”

The butler blew out more smoke and chuckled mirthlessly. “Greed doctor, what else? For years the league has grown by absorbing start-ups with innovative ideas, subsequently destroying competitors that might one day oppose them. Despite their domination the league’s appetite has never waned. With no more start-ups to snack on. They finally bare their fangs against each other. Until only one apex predator remains.”

‘Greed, perhaps.’

But the Collective had this nagging feeling. That if they looked close enough, if they dug deep enough, they’d find the master’s handprints at the root of all these conflicts.

‘Owning the council isn’t enough for him. He would go after the real rulers as well.’

And that would put him on an inevitable collision course with the Collective.

C-1’s lips curled up into something more vengeful than a smile.