His knife's grip felt fixed to his bodysuit's glove. Textured material against textured material wasn’t the sort of thing that most people thought about, but it definitely inhibited fluid combat styles that relied on changing your grip. Not the end of the world, just an inconvenience in distinct scenarios.
The problem was when, with the cold sweat of adrenaline drenching you and the need to rend your enemy to shreds with sheer viscous violence, you forgot about it.
It took barely a half dozen heartbeats to switch his mental gears for the task ahead. A covert operation bodyglove that screamed ‘bad guy.’ All his pre-op checking did was prove how lacking it was in both vital protection and almost any electronic suites. Body armor? Some stab-resistant padding should work. AR display? A basic scanning array is good enough.
In truth, he shouldn’t have expected much more if this was what he thought.
Just another show to impress a buyer and get them to purchase a protectorate peacekeeping force. The best and cheapest available in genetically engineered soldiers. Safety was worth the regime.
Not that politics and scheming interested him one bit. When your lifespan measured longer as a brain in a jar being force-fed training simulations and life-or-death competitions than with flesh and blood toes; it helped put things in perspective. Not a healthy perspective, he knew that, but Healthy minds normally cared about things like longevity and happiness.
“Agent, this is handler. Are you in position?” The crystal clear voice asked from his ear like a suddenly much too close battle brother. “Yes.” was his simple reply.
“Have you been briefed on the performance you are to give the Coalition forces?” It was a woman. Or at least sounded like one. It could be a man, a team all speaking through the same voice filter, smart AI, or even a dumb one. Funny the things your mind clings to while trying to find any of the dozen little deadly things you’ve missed.
“Eccentric vigilante. I’m targeting a paramilitary group known for terrorism. A small number of hostiles. Never received psyche profile to adhere to.” Despite the rainwater pittling down around him he didn’t bother enunciating any more clearly than normal. Despite the gaudy mirrored face plate, an absolutely astute addition to his assassin get-up, the headgear did filter the background noise well enough.
“One moment…” She responded. The moments passed by neither quicker nor slower as he waited. Though he did take the time to pull the black-camo netting he had from his belt to at least partially obscure his reflective faceplate. It was soaking wet. Just like everything else on him.
“Dossier lists your previous op history as aggressive, thorough, and quick on your feet. Side note lists warnings of unpredictability and instability when left to own devices. Your profile fits, no special instructions at this time.” Well, that was something he definitely didn’t have the social prowess to dissect at any length. Probably best to just take the compliment
“Thanks.” He chuckled softly before rising slightly from his haunces. Enhanced muscular fibers and reinforced bones taking the strain of his prolonged crouch just fine. “It's nice to be appreciated, I hear. On your go, Ma’am.”
“All subjects are accounted for, and surveillance is in place to capture the event. Proceed when ready, Operative.”
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Crypt air filled every breath taken in the grim darkness of the necropolis. Every stone saturated with malignant evil, every torch flickering dimly with ill intent. Even the pathways were uneven, ready to stub the toes of any unfortunate heroes who came close.
It was all part of the Dread Lich Incus Palatine’s sense of decor.
Not the fact that he’d told all of the minions that kept the place clean to ‘Find a new master’ before handing them each a small chest of gold and immediately sitting on a stool in the least mildew-y part of the underground complex to become catatonic.
Khaine was adamant that it was all about cultivating the perfect image for anyone that asked. Something between megalomaniacal ancient lich and… Forgotten… Cellar?
He didn’t need to breathe but he still found the act of blowing a long breath out from between his razor-sharp teeth calming. A segmented tongue ending in a jagged harpoon of bone running against the incisors of a lipless mouth. Then there were the missing eyes and nose, the oozing thorns that pierced the taut skin of his shoulders, menacing claw-tipped fingers, dull and scale-like skin. The least terrifying part of his anatomy was probably his lower half. Someone had once said it was “Like a Satyr who just really liked kicking stuff.”
They had been fun to kick.
Khaine sucked his tongue back into his maw before continuing to walk calmly towards the least mildew-infested part of the dungeon. Only stubbing 3 of his 4 taloned toes errant paving stones on the way. At least the light pain did something to distract the magical beast from how much trouble he might be in.
Was in.
Him and his lazy lord.
It took longer than he’d liked to finally find the room his lord had decided to take his rest in. A desolate pantry, with more wooden bowls and cutlery than food. If one didn’t include the fat, sleeping rat on the table then the catalog for food was simply grim. His tongue slipped from between his teeth again to lick them sensually. One hand slipping forward silently towards the little rat.
It woke with a little squeak. Doing almost the absolute minimum to escape him even as the back of his razor sharp claws brushed against it. The moments passed with him just petting it until the fat little rat finally laid down to accept the attention being forced onto it. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the lord is, hmm?” His words slipped from between his teeth with utter stillness. With both effort and annoyance, the rat got up again to scuttle over towards the edge of the table.
It laid back down happily, small nose pointing to one of the chairs. Khaine took the chair in with his blindsense until noticing the difference between it and the others around the table. Another long sigh left his lips as he popped a small fruit into his palm. Mana bleeding from the freshly conjured food as he set it beside the rat. He plucked the chair up to leave the room as the small rat happily ate it’s meal. Before leaving the room Khaine turned the chair upside down to reveal the skull of his lord fixed under the seat. He truly was a master of his favorite pursuits.
Sleeping and evading work.