Applause erupted, though very briefly, and the crowd quickly went back to whatever they were doing before the Drazah Duet entered the room. They weren’t swarmed with the rich and powerful who would want to curry their favor as one might expect. In fact, no one approached them at all. Perhaps they’d all been informed about the Drazah’s preferences where they didn’t like to be overcrowded, or would rather keep their conversations more private.
Or maybe the citizens of Last Bastion were so far up their own asses that the little introduction would be all the thanks they’d get, not that the Fiends particularly minded. Though they weren’t wholly ignored. Both siblings were getting eyes from around the room, likely from those who would approach them when the opportunity struck.
“I’m going to go sulk in a corner,” Phon declared adamantly. “Guess I’ll use this time to dig up any dirt I can find on these mawhgers that we can exploit later. If anyone asks me to dance, I’ll castrate them—yes I learned what that word means. Let me know if anyone gets too pushy with you as well. I’ll castrate them too.”
Drim was left alone and his eyes started to wander. Really, he’d be just as happy hiding away somewhere as well. But as leader of the Fiends For Hire, he felt he should at least do a round of pleasantries and introductions for anyone who wanted them, since this party was in their honor after all.
And to his surprise, the party was more of a mixed bag of attendees than he expected. The man had been anticipating just the Bastion elite and his own underlings. But there was also a smattering of politicians as well. He quickly spotted his uncle happily chatting away with Preiche Yanyee and a few CP Reps he recognized. Notably, they were all from countries that hadn’t partaken in the war.
Other than that, they also weren’t the only Fiends around. Dura was the first to catch Drim’s attention, since he seemed to have caught everyone else’s as well. The man wanted to thank the monk properly for the assistance he’d provided, allowing Drim to end the war swiftly, but it seemed he wouldn’t get the chance, at least not this night. Dura was surrounded by the rich and powerful, and they were hanging on every nonsense word he was blathering. Clearly they thought he was some sort of enlightened thespian.
Another Fiend who was getting a bunch of attention was Itsy, who was currently in line at the buffet table, trying to make a large plate in peace. But behind her was another sizable crowd of pricks who were blatantly staring and murmuring to themselves. As her employer, it caused Drim’s responsibility senses to tingle, so he casually strolled up next to her and asked if she was fine.
“Ah, yeah, nah, they’re harmless,” Itsy huffed in their direction. “They ain’t making fun of my size. They’re actually covetting it. Pretty funny change of pace if you ask me. Gotten four marriage proposals already. They want my genetics in their bloodline, make some big strong children. But they ain’t getting a piece of me that easily. Ain’t none of them boys pretty enough for me to deal with that bullzjik. But I’ll lead ‘em on a little longer. Fun to play the pretty princess for just a bit.”
Well as long as she was having fun, Drim saw no real reason to intervene. Though if any of them tried anything on her, he might have to sick his castration-crazed sister after them. Assuming they were still alive after Itsy got done beating out her frustrations.
From there, Drim was a bit unsure about where to head next. The castle was huge, and there were guests sprawled all over, not just in the main hall. Maybe they had a library or a study and he could find some interesting books, though he should still probably get a few more pleasantries out of the way.
Speaking of, there was a certain woman who was desperately trying to get his attention. She’d been eyeing him for some time now, sending strange faces his way. Drim had ignored her at first, assuming her to be just another curious stranger, but the more he looked, the more strangely familiar she seemed.
The woman was definitely a Fiend, though not one he recognized. But given the hair and eye combination, it could only be one person. Though the man doubted she’d ever show her face in such a place. But the closer he got to her, the more certain he was. “Ahvra…? That is you, right?”
“Yes, it is indeed I, Useful One,” she smiled at him in her fully grown adult form. “I can see why you didn’t recognize me at first. Today I am rather pretty, yes?”
“I’ll say,” Drim couldn’t help but admire her lavish dress that stunningly clung to her curvaceous figure. Not to mention that her hair had clearly been done by a professional, and it was likely the first time in her life she’d actually worn makeup. “I’ve definitely never seen you like this. And I’m surprised that you’re here.”
“Yes,” the woman slowly swirled a finger around her glass of champagne that she’d been slowly sipping. “Believe it or not, I needed a break from dissection. And more urgently, I needed an excuse to get out of the lab. The atmosphere there is currently not one conducive to passionate experimentation. That, and I have some information to share that was best relayed to you in person. Perhaps we should go somewhere a bit more private.”
“Uhh, sure,” Drim agreed, not expecting Ahvra to grab him by the hand and lead him away. From the corner of his eye, he caught Phon’s erratic expression of him wandering off somewhere with an unfamiliar beautiful woman, but all that raw angst vanished a second later, his sister having likely verified that it was Ahvra.
“This should do,” Ahvra guided them to a shadowy alcove away from the main hall. “I bet you can guess what we found.”
Drim let out a guttural, exacerbated sigh since that alone already confirmed his worst fears. “Our Gizmicros.”
The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
“Yes,” the woman slowly nodded in confirmation. “We found them in almost every single sample that Roque provided us. There were a few exceptions. None from one country entirely. A few had mixed bags, but most had them injected in every single soldier. Poor fools probably don’t know what was put in them. Not that we have much room to talk.”
“Don’t tell me they found a way to reactivate the full-control mechanism,” Drim speculated the worst scenario. “Nathym should have destroyed that beyond repair.”
“No, those are still nonfunctional,” Ahvra corrected. “Rather, they used the Gizmicros to impart emotional limiters, similarly to how I block them myself in my smaller form. In this case, they severely reduced the feelings of fear and anxiety. Meanwhile, they boosted courage and adrenaline.”
“That sounds like a perfect cocktail for tunnel vision,” Drim bit into the tip of his thumb, annoyed by the realization. “So while they weren’t brainwashed exactly, they also had no feeling that they could lose. It’d explain why Victori’s influence went unheard for most of them, and why they charged ahead even when the battle was clearly one-sided. She’s been bedridden since from overexerting her power, but at least it saved a few lives.”
“Well, only two things were able to effectively cut into the Gizmicros influence,” the woman cut into his deductions. “Rezin’s Curse, even moreso when coupled with Tize. It seems that if all they felt was fear, the dampeners couldn’t block it out entirely. The other was your mother’s power. Even science can’t beat absolute obedience. Yet, at least.”
“And there is one more factor. We also found traces of Creti Sloemin’s blood.” Drim’s eyes shot open in surprise, but didn’t say anything just yet, allowing Ahvra to finish.
“We had Bloodlust examine its implementation.” That was her nickname for Valen. “And while we unfortunately never acquired our own sample of Creti’s to compare it against, Bloodlust was certain their usage was poor at best. They understand that Fiend blood affects things, but not how to manipulate it and utilize it properly as we do. However, it just being there seemed to be affecting the soldiers' willingness to blindly obey orders—helping their commanders, if you will.”
“Damn, we’ll definitely need to do something about that,” Drim already started planning. “I should have butted in and taken Creti’s corpse with me that day but… we’ll fix it. And Nathym, I’m guessing he’s not taking it well.”
“Devastated is the word I’d use,” Ahvra pursed her lips in a rare show of sympathy. “The idea that one of his inventions led to this tragedy has caused his sense of guilt and despair to overload, and now he is working desperately to come up with a solution.”
“Unfortunately, that is not something I can help him with intellectually, nor do I know the proper words to improve his mood emotionally. And as a woman, given his condition, I can not even comfort him in any way physically. I did offer to use my abilities to dampen the flow of those emotions, but he refused, and got annoyed that I’d mentioned it. It seems he wants to let himself be in pain, at least until he resolves the issue.”
“And as his… I guess you’d call us friends, though I’ve never really given it much thought, it pained me just as much to see him in that state. My presence also seemed to be perturbing him. So with nothing I could do to help, I decided to remove myself from the environment, at least temporarily. Hence why I’m here.”
“Though I will admit that it is nice to get out of the lab once and a while, and these entitled humans are fascinating specimens. It is enjoyable to observe them. Maybe one will let me dissect their brain…” Ahvra’s interest in their conversation seemed to have wavered as she got lost in her own thoughts.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to that then,” Drim found it best conducive to his health to get away as quickly as possible. “Enjoy the night, Ahvra. Thank you for the report. And don’t worry, we’ll get through this and support Nathym however we can.”
The man meandered his way back to the main hall, thinking about getting some food or doing literally anything to lift his mood after that heavy conversation. But it seems joy found him, in the form of a young girl running up to him and wrapping her arms around his waist, giving him a hug.
“Uhh, hello there,” Drim called down to the girl. He couldn’t exactly hug her back at his height, so instead, he placed his hand on her shoulder and knelt down. “You’re Hickedy, right?”
“You know me?!” her eyes lit up with excitement. “Wow, to think someone so famous actually knows me.” She almost seemed to get a bit shyer at the thought. “Umm, sorry for rushing at you. I just got really excited when I saw that it was actually you…” she started pressing her fingers together nervously.
“It’s just, I love watching you guys and your shows. You’re awesome! And you’re the leader! So cool! It makes me want to be the best Fiend I can be! And you don’t have to worry, I set up a perimeter so no more bad guys can come here right now. You guys deserve a break too.”
“Wow, thank you!” Drim played along, but had assumed she’d done as much when she heard the CP Fiends were coming. “You’ve helped us out a lot, Hickedy, great job,” he gave her a few affirming pats on the head.
The girl seemed to really enjoy the praise, but then she suddenly went back to being reserved. “And umm… actually… I wanted to ask…”
“Go on,” Drim encouraged her, since she’d lost her nerve.
“Is umm… Is Pox here?” she looked away from him, as if she’d asked something shameful.
“Uhh, well,” that caught Drim off guard. He started glancing around, unsure of how to respond and crush the child’s hopes. The first thing he noticed was a man in a sheriff’s outfit glaring daggers at him. That must have been the Fiend Laquet, who apparently had started seeing himself as Hickedy’s guardian, and also somehow thought his outfit constituted formal attire. Well if the CP was there for the reason that Drim assumed, then it was fitting.
And the second thing he noticed was… “Huh, I guess he actually is here,” Drim muttered. He saw Pox walking around, weaving between the crowds, trying to get each group's attention as he passed. The fluffy creature was wearing a tuxedo with a badge noting his position as the Czar of Trash Disposal. And he was encouraging everyone to dispose of their trash into his mouth, like a dog begging for scraps.
“Oh wow!” Hickedy’s eyes sparkled with unbridled innocence. “Do… do you think I could hug him?”
“I think he’d enjoy that very much,” Drim gave her an encouraging push in Pox’s direction. That interaction had been just the thing he needed to warm his heart and help him calm down. Though the happy feeling didn’t exactly last. After he grabbed a morsel from a walking waiter and shook hands with a citizen who briefly wanted to thank him, Drim wandered off the the grand foyer of the castle. And there at the top of the stairs, three of his employees were doing something ludicrous.