“Those plans look quite interesting, but are you certain that they are feasible?” Nisha asked me, after looking at the project Metis had proposed.

“It is. There is a company called TitanTech, based in Cantonia, who would be quite willing to work with us on this. This is Catherine Alleyne, one of their managers at large. She has offered to work with us on this.” Metis explained, the mask completely expressionless. It was a good thing that Nisha and her father were used to meeting Mitis in her suit and mask, or the similarity between the face beneath the mask and myself would be too obvious.

It was a bit of showmanship I was quite proud of, introducing myself to my allies, only possible thanks to Galatea and a lot of work done to make my face subtly different, almost as if the face worn by Catherine was that of a sister, or maybe cousin, to the face Nisha had gotten to know. Having a different hair- and eye-colour, as well as an altered skin-tone, rounded the deception out, allowing me to stand next to my armour, wearing a carefully chosen business suit.

Changing my voice was simplicity itself, ever since Clark had crushed my windpipe and voice-box, my voice had been electronically generated by Galatea anyway, our attempts to fully restore my voice-box unsuccessful. Changing the pitch and natural cadence was a piece of cake, even if I took a bit getting used to.

“Indeed. We have been working with Ms. Metis for years, mostly remotely. As you can guess, there are quite a few…” I paused for effect, my gaze measuring the expressionless armour next to me. “Challenges when working with a slightly notorious Powered. But the partnership was quite valuable for all participants, allowing TitanTech to establish an excellent and quite profitable line of personal defensive equipment. If you are interested, Ms. Acharya, we would be interested in having you as brand-ambassador.” I offered, only to be rebuffed. By myself.

“That is a topic unsuitable for this venue. Nisha, if you are interested, I would suggest researching their brand, first, before talking about it with your father. Their products are a conception of Western Europe, designed to fit their legal and cultural framework. I know too little to predict their impact here.” Metis interjected, before gesturing back to the displayed plans.

“If we look at the currently planned time-line, it will take two years to complete the initial build-up. That will allow you to complete your degree at a national University and oversee the later stages, giving you a platform to enter politics, if that is still your desire. In addition, I believe it would fit well with your platform, would it not, Mr. Acharya?” she asked, looking at the two in turn.

“We’ll talk about your products later. I’ve got your card, I’ll give you a call sometime.” Nisha gave me a nod, before inquiring further.

“The time-line is rather tight, I’ve got to admit. It relies heavily on your company, Ms. Alleyne, why is it that you are planning to invest here?” she asked, bringing the meeting back on track.

“Well, with the recent trouble in Europe, there is a bit of upheaval all around the world. My company has been looking to expand for some time, as the Western markets are mostly saturated, limiting growth. On the other hand, an investment here, or even further east or north, has excellent projected returns. While some of the economic promises further east sound promising, there are some political factors that are unappealing.” I explained, before focusing on Metis.

“This first project is a proof of concept, relying heavily on Metis and her abilities, especially in the initial phase. Our projection is that the second phase will give us valuable insight that can be expanded upon, in further projects. They would not rely on Metis’ abilities and are the key to further progress and, for us, return on investment.” I tried to project a combination of confidence and greed, knowing that Nisha would likely pick up on it.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I can see that.” Mr Acharya stated, looking at the numbers I had provided. “Those returns on investment sound truly impressive.” he nodded and I brought a polite smile on my face, as if trying to conceal smug satisfaction. The curious thing was, the project was mostly based on creating value, by investing into infrastructure that would, in turn, raise the wealth of the surrounding region by providing cheap energy, and through the energy clean water. That, in turn, would allow for better farming and drive urbanisation as less people would be needed to provide food. The urbanisation, in turn, would require more energy, sold by TitanTech.

On paper, it was a wonderful project, the kind of thing that sadly never worked in reality, due to a variety of factors. If this project failed in reality, the cost would be on TitanTech, the supposed investment in advanced tech needed for the pilot-project basically a write-off. It all hinged on the capability to turn the core of the project, supposedly provided by Metis’ power in the pilot project into independant, replicable technology. For most, it would be a fool’s dream, but the projected confidence and past partnership made it sound just believable enough. Galatea and I had spent quite a bit of time on the proposal, to create something that sounded suitable, demonstrating the necessary combination of entrepreneurial greed with political enticement.

In essence, TitanTech had to appear like a typical company, seeking to get into the ground.floor of an economic boom, by jump-starting it. Given what we knew about Mr. Acharya’s political platform, that economic boom was right in his wheelhouse, giving him incentive to support the proposal, even without the personal connection we already had. That we had created a role for his daughter, even subtly adjusting the timing to make the time-line fit was just icing on the cake.

“I will talk to the lower level officials, lend my aid to the project. You should get incredibly favourable conditions for your land acquisition and I don’t think there will be any problems with the necessary permits.” he finally nodded, taking the bait. I did not have to try projecting smug satisfaction, as I was feeling it quite keenly, if not for the reasons Nisha might assume.

“Thank you, for your time, Mr. Acharya. Metis and I will coordinate the further steps and announcements with your office. If there are local politicians who might benefit from the association, I am certain we can accommodate some publicity and local investment.” I promised.

It was a good thing that Galatea had never stopped playing the stock-market, using multiple identities, all completely legitimately looking. They even paid taxes through a net of shell-companies, funnelling money to TitanTech and me personally. It also showed that, when investing, information ruled supreme and Galatea was the Queen of Information, especially after Technica had given us access to the many semi- and completely confidential information-networks the Guild had had access to. Those had partially dried up, but some access remained, curiously mostly to the confidential networks, as those had been established under assumed names.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” I shook Mr. Acharya’s hand, while Metis shook Nisha’s hand. Just before Metis could pull back, Nisha pulled her a little closer, speaking softly.

“Let’s talk privately for a moment.” she asked and for a moment, Galatea and I discussed the request. The biggest problem was that the link between myself and the armour was extremely short ranged and disrupting it would require Galatea to splinter herself, something she did not like. At all.

“I’ll do it, mother. It looks like she’s quite serious.” Galatea assured me. Trusting my daughter came easy to me, and while I reminded her to speak like I habitually did, Galatea gave Nisha a nod. There was another quick round of pleasantries between myself and Metis, before I made my way to the exit, the link between myself and the shard Galatea had spun off to control the armour snapping as we left the connection-range.

Closing my eyes in the elevator, I let out a slow breath. With the project established, Galatea and I had taken an important step. We had gained a legitimate identity with political backing, allowing us the space, both physical and temporal, to expand and focus on the Scourge.

We needed a base of operations, a secure place to work from, with access to raw material, if we wanted to get anything done. And what better way to acquire resources than by using a privately financed but government-backed project as a front.

The first step of many on our path of vengeance had been taken. Not with explosions or violence, but with a simple hand-shake.