The pair left the shop a short while later, all geared up and ready for the job. In order to avoid drawing attention, Alindal wore a cloak overtop his robes with a cowl that hid his lustrous hair. He had wrapped a black bandana around the lower half of his face in order to cut some of the sharp pungency from the polluted air. His sigil rod which he’d named the Weaver’s Needle rested under the cloak in a harness affixed to his back. Overall, the ensemble seemed to have the desired effect since few people cast more than a passing glance at the elf.
Jack had donned his mask, a reflective black faceplate shaped loosely to fit his face. There were intentionally no eye slits for him to see— his golden eyes were too recognizable. Instead, he and Alindal had devised a simple rune array that when placed on the inside of the mask allowed Jack to see as if the mask was transparent. Any time he had to leave the shop, Jack assumed a false identity known as Atlas. He couldn’t let his identity slip. Dangerous entities, both individuals and corporations, had hunted him and each time they found him, he barely escaped with his life. It’d been over a year since the last time he and Alindal had escaped their pursuers, so Jack had been nervous about that in addition to his other worries. The peace had lasted too long and his paranoia told him that couldn’t last. In truth, his anxiety had driven him to be more selective about his jobs in the last few months which coupled with the fact that he had been out of commission for almost a month due to his newly enhanced senses meant he had been forced to accept a job from less than savory clientele.
Under the guise of Atlas, Jack worked as a freelance Tracer. Tracers were a common type of mage in Fracture with the ability to locate nearby Relics as well as open Remnant Gates, portals to broken worlds that spawned monsters and contained coveted Relics. The strength of a Tracer’s abilities was directly tied to how high their Resonance attribute and some Tracers even had special skills that increased their effectiveness further. Jack had neither of those things; however, he discovered that he could open Remnant Gates without issue and sense Relics within a mile when he concentrated. For not the first time, he mulled over his nonexistent Resonance attribute. There was no value listed in his Status, unlike every other attribute. At first, he’d thought that it was because he didn’t have a designation, but even if that was true, certain things didn’t add up.
Resonance was an incredibly important attribute for everyone. Unlike all of the other attributes which garnered more or less focus depending on one’s designation, everyone wanted a high Resonance attribute because it determined the highest grade of Relic one could use, increased the strength of one’s Ethos and Pathos, and, most importantly to most, governed how much eidos one received when absorbing eidos stones. The last reason was incentive enough for most people since the more eidos an individual had the more they could strengthen their designation to level up. Resonance also affected certain crafting skills like sigilcrafting. Despite all of that, Jack never had trouble equipping Relics and he received over double the amount of eidos that Alindal received from eidos stones of the same quality. Unfortunately, he couldn’t actually spend the eidos since he didn’t have a designation so he usually gave any eidos stones not used for sigils or credits to Alindal. His lack of Resonance should have meant none of those things were true, yet they were which only left him with more questions.
While he mused, they made their way through Arcend, the industrial district located on the southern end of the city where their shop was located. Asylum boasted the title of the largest city in Fracture and as such, it was split into six districts: Arcend, Nortos, The Warrens, Elysium, Guile’s Rest, and Weston. Arcend gained its name from the huge arcs of electricity that jumped between the exposed coils atop each of the corporate factories and eidos processing plants. Arcend’s residents mainly consisted of corporate employees that worked in the manufacturing sector. It was an extremely risky place to set up shop for Jack, but after so many failures he figured the best place to hide was under the nose of his pursuers. Most of the people in Arcend were working off a debt to the corporations or had no better option because of a poor designation. Overall, no one important in the corporations paid attention to the district unless something was going wrong. Even better, very few noncorporate entities or individuals were willing to cause trouble in the district for fear of reprisal.
Their destination lay in Weston which meant they had to pass through a short section of The Warrens. It would’ve been easier to go through Elysium but Jack wasn’t stupid. Elysium was home to the corporate headquarters in the city; not to mention the thorough security. On top of that, most of the city’s population of Celestials lived there and getting involved with that lot brought nothing but trouble. He’d much rather take his chances with the cutthroats and gangers in The Warrens.
A short time later when they entered The Warrens, Jack turned to Alindal. “Keep your guard up, it’s been a while since you were last here and things have changed a bit.”
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“Are the Weeds not in control here?” Alindal asked. The Weeds were a gang that Jack and Alindal had befriended a few years prior. Anna, their leader, had taken a liking to his lustrous elven friend though Alindal had been oblivious to it. Back when the two had tried hiding in The Warrens, the Weeds had helped them out on more than one occasion. In exchange, Jack had helped them defend their territory a few times. Sadly, they’d been forced to flee when Jack caught wind that their pursuers were closing in. Last he’d heard, the Weeds had been wiped out by a rival gang.
Jack shook his head and Alindal’s eyes told Jack that he was frowning under the bandana. He added, “A gang called Nocturne took over almost a year ago. I’m not sure what happened to the Weeds, but if any survived, they are probably lying low.” He was lying, of course. He’d heard that Nocturne’s conquest had been bloody and none of the Weeds had survived, but he didn’t want to tell Alindal that. Though his friend didn’t look happy about the news, he asked no more questions.
The Warrens was a hellhole full of crime and poverty. The district was the oldest in Asylum aside from Elysium and time hadn’t been kind. Much of the district consisted of dilapidated buildings tightly packed together amidst collapsed structures of various sizes and shapes. Beneath the ruins, an intricate network of sewage tunnels had been settled as well. The population of The Warrens was incredibly dense and poor which meant the residents made use of any space they could for shelter. For the most part, gangs controlled different parts of the district making each distinct in both the culture of its residents and the rules one had to follow when traveling through or living there.
Jack didn’t know much about Nocturne, so he hoped to quickly be out of their territory. They passed through several alleys dodging past onlookers and panhandlers. Thankfully, they didn’t stand out overmuch in the crowds since people from other districts frequently stopped by The Warrens for cheap drugs, prostitutes, and other unsavory business.
Unfortunately for Jack, the high population density and overabundance of activity didn’t sit well with his enhanced hearing and another headache started to creep up on him. He heard laughter, screams, moans, and banging among other things and that was without his hearing operating at full throttle. He gritted his teeth, futilely attempting to push out the extraneous noise. After slapping away the hands of a few pickpockets, he gave up on trying to limit his hearing and just picked up the pace.
Alindal bumped into his shoulder catching Jack’s gaze when he turned to look at his friend. Subtly, the elf nodded toward the third story window of a nearby building with a boarded-up entrance. A glance was all Jack needed. Hiding in the shadow beyond the window, a dark figure watched the street from above. The shadows around the figure seemed to almost blend with their shape making it difficult for Jack to make much out. He guessed that the figure was a member of Nocturne. The individual must have had some sort of thief or assassin class designation based on the strange shadow blending he saw. Fortunately, the figure didn’t appear to notice them.
They hastily wound their way through the twisting streets of The Warrens without issue. Jack was beginning to think they would have any trouble when two men stepped who’d been holding a conversation about money stepped in front of them to block their way as they passed through an alley meant to be a shortcut. Jack sighed beneath his mask when he heard three more individuals step into the alley behind them. Instead of reaching for the steel club hanging from his belt, Jack asked, “What do you want?”
His tone wasn’t pleasant. Then again, neither was his mood. The first man that stepped forward scowled at the question. He was lanky and rat-faced though his eyes told Jack not to underestimate him. A sigil gun rested in his waistband. It matched the set of his clothes which were worn yet in better shape than most people in the district.
Probably some kind of hybrid or mage class designation. He thought since only mage class designations received a mana pool and the ability to use sigils. Briefly, he glanced at the man’s companion. He was a brute of a man that stood over seven feet tall. After a moment, Jack realized he wasn’t a man at all. His skin was gray and his brow far too pronounced for a human— likely an ogre based on what Jack knew. He wore rags that contrasted sharply with the rat-faced man’s attire. Like Jack, he had a club though his weapon was wooden with spikes jutting out of it.
Finally, the lanky man spoke, “If you’re going to Weston you have to pay a toll. 100 credits.”
100?! That was ridiculous for a toll in The Warrens. At most, the gangs charged 20 credits per person. Not to mention, Jack couldn’t pay that much and neither could Alindal. Their credit shortage was the main reason Jack had accepted the job they were going to despite his apprehension. The only things they had that would be worth enough to pay the toll were Alindal’s new sigil rod and the Shadowtitan’s Fist, neither of which Jack was keen on surrendering to some thugs overcharging for a toll in The Warrens. He was about to call the man out when he caught sight of a tattoo on the lanky man’s forearm. He could only see the bottom, but it looked like a snake wrapped around a spherical object. As soon as he saw the tattoo, the gears started turning in his head.
In the hopes of settling this without violence, Jack asked, “Does Nocturne know that the Snake Eye is working their turf? If you make it 20, we won’t mention we saw you next time we pass through.”
The man’s frown deepened. Without another word, he nodded towards ogre who stepped forward and brought his club down on Jack’s head.