"There's a.. Roland White to see you sir. From the DMA."

Chief of security William Harrick looked up from his desk with a frown. That was a familiar name. He'd heard it somewhere before, but where? He nodded to himself. Didn't matter. DMA anything was important enough for a face to face. "Tell him to come on up."

Harrick looked around his office with a sigh. Every month, Wayson instituted some other security measure. More paranoia. More restrictions. Barricades. Additional background checks. His bid to get Reflex up and running, and steal the business from those criminals, had been a flop; and project Eel had been only a mediocre success; the augmented humans generating electricity, yes, and even enough to power light armor... but not enough for the sort of high-end equipment that would let them compete with the dangerous metahumans out there.

From what Harrick could tell, nobody had penetrated security since that Davidson asshole had jumped ship. But Wayson became more paranoid and angry with each month Eyetech outperformed Wayson Industries; and the knowledge that its owner hoarded the greatest advancements for himself was even worse.

He sighed, looking around his office. He'd been friends with Everett for years. Kept him alive at times, advised him, barely scraped by at times and made a fortune at others. Everett had even gone through a great deal of effort and pain to save Harrick himself. But... it might be time to move on. The doctor just wasn't listening anymore.

The gentle knock at the door was accompanied by a head peeking around the corner. A face that might once have been handsome; the sort of tall, powerfully built, blonde-haired blue-eyed all-american that could've sold out theaters; except... it was badly scarred. Some of the hair was clearly a toupee. This man had been through hell.

He blinked. Oh. Thats where he knew him from.

"Well then. Why don't you have a seat? What exactly brings you in to see us today?"

***

"Well, doctor. His proposal is pretty simple. Its illegal, its insane, its stupid, and it just might work."

The past few years had not been kind to Everett Wayson. His eyes were sunken; his body gaunt. His complexion was still perfect, his hair clearly expensive, and the same burning intelligence was behind those eyes; but he shifted and twitched with anxiety, and seemed exhausted.

"...The only part I care about is that it might work. If you have a legitimate way to take out these... people... I'm in, if there's even a slight chance."

Harrick sighed. "Look. Eyetech is incredibly secure. His home? Every bit as secure. We could drop an army in there on either site, and the built-in weapons and defenses would hold us off; we can't even get good intel on where it all is until we attack, the man installed most of it himself. But. The Arena..."

He nodded at the wall. He'd uploaded a display of the massive stadium structure. "Arena contestants aren't screened for anything but bio-weapons. They're expected to be carrying weapons, armor, all sorts of nasty gadgets, and so long as they don't break the dome or haul in a WMD, its all good. They can even remain anonymous, in-costume, the whole time. And each team that makes it to the semi-finals.."

He tapped a button. The display zoomed in on the tower at the top of the building. "Gets to be guest of honor at an exclusive party. Invite-only. Attended by Nicolo Russo, Penelope Russo, and Jason Bennet, every time, among others in La Famiglia leadership. Most of the guests are screened, even employees who aren't part of the family are. Checked for bombs, weapons. Only the most trusted are allowed into that room with anything harmful... except for these people. They don't consider it a security concern; after all, they've got some of the heaviest hitters on the planet in that room. It'd take a Titan to go into that room alone and come out alive. And we all know Bennet has already killed two of the Titans he went up against... and the third did not enjoy the experience."

Harrick sighed. "If we could get the right payload onto an attendee, someone willing to die to get the job done? We could wipe out all of the key leadership of the island in one fell swoop. And Roland White is willing to die to get the job done, if thats what it takes."

Everett frowned, staring at the display. "Then why isn't the CIA or the DoD already doing this?"

Harrick shrugged. "Because he's giving them what they want. Combat drugs better than anything a US company has to offer."

"Well. This Eyeball character meets people all the time. He eats, he goes on dates. He's unpredictable, yes. But we could just leave a team to ambush him, and strike when he shows up. Why go through all this trouble?"

"Thats the thing. There's only two places he reliably shows up; Eyetech, and his home. His route between the two is unpredictable and varied. His superhuman reflexes make any sort of unplanned ambush problematic; we've tried it before, to be honest. We need a place where we can predict he'll be there in advance.. and to deploy something to cover the entire room. So that no matter how he dodges, no matter how amazing his reflexes... he still dies. No using a table for cover, or ducking into a vent, or any such nonsense."

"Hmm. And how do we do that?"

Harrick held up a small silver orb. "Our man Roland carries these. Each of these weighs about twenty pounds, and is filled with a highly compressed, invisible, odorless gas. A highly flammable gas. He hides them in trash cans, in chairs, anywhere he can. Push one button, they start to release the gas. When the moment comes? Ignition. Turns the whole room into a fuel-air bomb that kills any normals in there. One moment, everything's fine. The next... the entire room is a firestorm. No dodging. No avoiding. And Roland mops up anyone fire-resistant enough to survive."

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Everett gave a hesitant shrug, and leaned back in his chair. "I do like the idea. But can this Roland make it through the whole arena long enough to become a Semi-finalist? I think some of the people in there are strong enough to take him. Maybe even kill him."

"Well then, we give him backup. Its a team sport. They won't let any given team be -too- powerful, but I bet we can arm and equip a couple of supersoldiers to tag along and give him a competitive edge. If its anyone recognizable, we'll need a bit of plastic surgery first; but we're already doing that to Roland."

He laughed. "You know what... I think I know the perfect man for the job. Feel like a vacation, William? How would you like to get back at that bitch that burned you alive?"

Harrick looked thoughtful. "I... wouldn't mind it. But half the point of this approach is that this Roland guy is expendable. While I'd like it if the job worked, its definitely not a hundred percent. In fact... the whole idea is crazy. I'd bet more money on it not working than on it working, even if I went along."

Everett pushed his chair back, and pulled to his feet. "Bill. Look. I need this. This... Eyeball has been leading us on for years now. He considers us just a footnote on his path, and has been running ahead of us on Reflex since he stole it and making new versions that we'll never catch up to if he keeps going. If we don't stop him, I don't think I can ever recover."

"...I'll consider it. I'll need a damn fireproof suit to do the job, something that dragon-lady can't burn through. But I'll consider it."

***

"Alright. I get where you're coming from." Eyeball nodded, and gently took Emerald's novel, setting it on the coffee table.

"But here's the thing. From what I understand, even if we never go public, she's searching for you. And will, eventually, find you. We generally aim for me to be the one noticed when we're out and about, and we've mostly gone legit since La Famiglia was started up. But there are reports out there with both of our names in them. Sometime, someday, we're going to get visitors from your family."

She shrugged. "They probably already know where I am. I'm not famous, or infamous, but I'm a known villainess, and a foreign national who received a pardon. They expect me to live a long, long time... great-grandma looks like she's maybe forty... but me and Ripper figured they'd give me a decade or two before bringing me to heel, letting the girl they want to take over someday 'sow her wild oats' or some such silliness, and, well. I'd hoped to get strong enough to stand up for myself, or even find friends to help fight them off when that happened."

Eyeball chuckled. "I understand. Whats the path out of this while killing as few of your family as possible?"

"...Well. I want my uncle to die. He tried to rape me, even if it was the Empress's idea. And we probably need to kill, or at the very least just beat the Empress, so I can disband the whole thing. And, well. Need to be careful about it. If I just waltz in and kill her with ease, some of the clan will take that as proof that she was right, that I've become some sort of superior species."

"Hah. What, don't want to become the Dragon Empress yourself?"

She rolled her eyes. "Not all of us want to own our own little island and play warlord, Jase."

"Own your own little island?"

"Oh. Great-grandma conned the Emperor of Japan's son, back in the day, into believing she was a real dragon. Like... ancient mystical being. And that by laying with her, she could add the blood of dragons to the Imperial line. Of course, that was bullshit. She was already pregnant. Already had the whole 'creating Dragons' idea and had tracked down one of the few mutants back in the day who wasn't sterile."

She sighed. "So.... when the Emperor found out he had what he thought was a scaly bastard grandson with mystical powers? He banished them to an island. The idea was that they should be taken care of, as Imperial descendants, but should never be allowed into power. So... the island is still in the family, all based on a lie a hundred years old."

"Hmm. Alright then. Well, its your family. How do you want to handle them?"

"Lets wait til after our child's born. I don't want to risk getting into some big fight while I'm pregnant. I'll let Ripper babysit for a few days then. You can get some of your friends together, I'll get some of mine, and we can go give her an ultimatum. Offer her either a wedding invitation, or a funeral."

Eyeball nodded, grinning. "Yeah, I don't see how that could possibly go wrong. Alright. We'll settle in for the next year or so. I'll go ahead and get that reflex thing implanted, maybe spend more time at Eye-tech, do some training. Really should do at least a little bit more fighting to keep my edge, as it were, probably take my job as Chief Enforcer more seriously... Huh."

Emerald was already reaching for the table to get her book back. "What? Did we just have another ridiculous idea?"

"Well. Honestly, if I'm gonna be staying on the island, and making sure this implant thing works right.... maybe I should go a few rounds at the arena. Either some of the solo matches to show off a bit, or actually sign up for the big tournament. Anonymously, as if I was some newbie."

She slowly nodded. "It honestly sounds like it could be fun. If some rat bastard hadn't knocked me up.." She grinned. "I might go along myself. Just make sure to let Nicky and Penny know."

"...Does she know you call her Penny?"

"Never did it to her face, she's still... a little jealous, and might do something about it."

***'

Nicky leaned back in his chair; his 'throne' as it were, really just a nice, expensive seat in his box at the Arena; the place where he held most of his meetings, with one of the various events going on in the background.

"Congratulations." He smiled. "Honestly, I've always loved kids. Penelope was so adorable. You've got to let me take care of them for you when they're born at least a few times. I've got a few great-nieces and nephews that come by now that I'm in touch with more of the family, but they all have their own lives in the states."

Wearing a newer, black and blue variant of her old armored suit, Penelope sighed. "Daddy. Come on, now. Swiftblade when I'm in uniform, Penelope when I'm not."

He glanced at her. "Actually, give it a few more years and I'm thinking Boss. Well. Thanks for keeping me in the loop, Eyeball. Anything you need from me? I think there's already a good OBGYN here on the island."

"Actually, with the baby on the way I was planning on staying on the island for a while. At least until after they're born. I figured I could use some light entertainment while I was here... and wanted your opinion on making up some random villain ID and joining the tournament. Have a little fun, some meaningless brawling."

Swiftblade grinned, leaning forward. "That actually sounds like a good idea. One of your friends from when you kicked off there in the US is only fifteen, but convinced his mom to let him sign in; technically he's anonymous, too, since just who 'Butcher' is was never made public. Hell. I might do it myself. So few people break the rules around here that I haven't had to kill anyone in months."

Eyeball frowned. "Ehh... Either one of us could make it all the way to the end, no problem, if we just murdered our way through. How about a friendly contest. Whoever kills the least opponents by the end wins. And... we both join in the pool."

"...And get saddled with whatever random nobodies get dragged on there?"

"Sure. Who knows, maybe you'll make some new friends."