Ark led us into a briefing room to explain the plan more after that brief statement that did not clarify much. Apparently, he had been waiting all day for us to arrive just so that he could say that one-liner.

Ark explained that the Dark Flame needed resources and that they were trying to rescue a large number of lower class people, who were being treated as if they were below animals in the class structure of the kingdoms, solely because they do the jobs that are deemed ‘unclean’ to society. With our help, they could kill two birds with one stone and use the rescue mission to show the people who the true enemy was.

In return for doing the mission, Ark agreed that The Dark Flame would supply us with enough money to do what we wanted but to work for them if they so needed us again. Sam and Ark left the room for us to confer.

“Well, we’ve got nothing better to do. Seems a bit suicidal and likely to fail. Where would they even get an airship big enough for all those people? The idea is stupid, there might even be blood,” Kill stated with the slight look of humour in his eyes. “Where do I sign up?”

I shrugged my shoulders as if to say, might as well.

***

I had not slept well. They had given me my own room, which had been decorated plainly. The bed they had given me was extremely soft in comparison to the metal frame with a sheet I had been sleeping on previously, so I slept on the floor of the room. The main reason I was having trouble sleeping was because I couldn’t hear Kill’s snoring; its absence kept me awake by the jarring void of silence that replaced it.

Blood stained the bed from where I had lain, as I hadn’t any spare clothing other than my damaged uniform. Most of the blood wasn’t mine. The only non-cosmetic injury I had sustained from the battle was a gunshot wound in my shoulder, the pain more of an annoyance to me as it only made itself known when I tried to move my shoulder.

I heard a knock at the door. Wincing as I stood up, I held my shoulder and opened the door. Outside was a clean set of clothes and a med kit with bandages and stitches. I took them into the room and took off my shirt, gingerly around my gun wound, and the fabric stuck to the blood, stinging as I pulled it off. I cleaned it, stitched it back up after removing the bullet, and wrapped it in a bandage to put pressure on it.

I put on the new T-shirt. It was weird; I hadn’t worn anything other than my uniform for as long as I could remember, and the T-shirt was clean, without any blood (mine or otherwise). I stood up from what I had used as a bed and walked over to a mirror on the wall to check my reflection: no visible scars (except on the neck), slate-coloured eyes, dark brown skin, and no clear differences since last viewed.

I looked at a watch which had been in the clothes set: ten thirty. Ark had told Kill and me to meet in the briefing room at quarter to eleven before showing us the rooms we would be staying in. After picking up a knife, I walked to the meeting point easily enough as I had memorised certain aspects of the building, so I knew how to get out if I needed to. People gave me quick passing glances as I walked to my destination; I could sense the slight feeling of fear, mainly overshadowed by curiosity, before they carried on with what they were doing.

I walked into the briefing room and saw that Kill was already there with Ark. He had also changed into a T-shirt with some Mythic’s insignia on it. He was lounging on a sofa, his arms resting on the back, and the flask he had stolen from a guard in his hand, clearly relaxed.

“Hey, Night!” Kill called out, motioning to the area next to him, “Apparently, Ark wants us to change our names as they are too murdery for him.”

“That is not exactly how I phrased it, but he is correct. I do believe it is appropriate for you to discard your mercenary names,” Ark agreed. “We were just discussing possible replacements; Kill will fill in the details.”

“I agreed only if I got to pick the new name. How about ‘Flint Lock’?” I looked at him. “What? It’s a type of gun. You could be… I don’t know, Luke Knight?”

I shrugged; it would do.

“Luke Knight, it is! Means I don’t need to change anything. So Ark, what was that other thing you wanted to leave ‘till Knight got here?”

“Ah yes, as you both know, the reason I brought the two of you here was because I need your expertise in retrieving some people who have been wronged by the kingdoms and have been practically left to rot. Well, I would like you to meet your pilot, Ace,” Ark explained as a red-haired boy about sixteen-seventeen with forest green eyes walked into the room.

The boy, Ace, saluted and said, “Yeah, as Ark said, I’m your pilot as only a select few can actually fly the airship you’re planning on stealing and, as luck would have it, I don’t need training; I’m a psychometric, which just means that if I hold onto something like a staff which a martial arts genius had held and perfected over years, I would have the same level of skill in seconds.”

“Cool,” Flint replied, with as much enthusiasm as a rabbit offered steak, “so what do we need Ace to fly that is so difficult? We need a… what did you call it? A psycho something? To pilot it?”

“Have you heard of the company Light Industries?”Ark clarified, “Well, they are a tech company who supply the kingdoms with their defences against the Shades and, whether or not Mr King knows the methods of how his suppliers acquire his materials, use practically slave labour to mine the substances needed to make his weapons. We have leaked intel of their next big reveal in the near future of a technological advancement in the field of air travel, nicknamed the Bright Eagle, which has defences which were inspired by different Mythics’ Legacys and can transport over a hundred people across kingdoms without the need for multiple Mythics on board.”

At the mention of weapons, Kill, who was now Flint, sat up and clearly became more interested. I could feel his interest in the thought of specialised weapons being at his disposal; he had more investment because of the new toys he could shoot Shades with than why Ark wanted us to do the mission in the first place.

“From the intel we found out that only three pilots with specialised training were able to fly this beast of an airship.” Ace carried on, “They had been training since Light Industries made the first prototype of the controls, which was just under three years ago. That was with advanced flight simulators that they made exclusively for this ship, and that was after they were specifically picked due to their years of experience. Which in itself is rare if you take into account how long pilots live for out there with Shades. Whereas I only need a few seconds to learn how to fly it in comparison.”

I felt Ace’s slight annoyance at the lack of reaction from Flint and me to his Legacy, which, though incredibly useful, doesn’t immediately make him a skilled Mythic. I have met many Mythics with truly miraculous Legacys who were easily taken down, and many with seemingly useless ones utilise them in ways which make them who you would want on your side in a fight. Creativity is a powerful factor in a battle. Overconfidence kills.

“Cool, but can me and Knight get better beds, the ones you gave us are uncomfortably soft. I didn’t get much sleep because of that and I don’t think Knight did either. Plus you still haven’t gotten me any more of that strong-smelling stuff I found. Whisky, I think you called it,”

I nodded in agreement; we might as well negotiate some other things for our skills. From what I had worked out about the mission, I was how they planned on acquiring the aircraft without triggering any alarms, as I could take out any guards without being seen, and Flint was mostly for later on to protect our cargo. It seemed relatively simple, but I wanted to know one thing: how Ark got this information and how Ace, with the practically perfect Legacy for the job, became associated with him. From what I knew about the kingdoms, Ace should be a high ranking Mythic, why wasn’t he?

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

From previous experience, I knew how difficult it was to break into a Light weapons centre; they were the only other people who knew about me without relying on rumours. The Director had sent me to steal suitable weapons for Kill and I (or Flint and I, now I suppose). Their systems somehow managed to negate my ability, and they saw me just as I was leaving with the weapons we still use today. I signalled this to Flint.

“So… where did you get this leak?” Flint asked on my behalf, which was obvious as his tone showed that he truly did not care.

“People. They are the weakest part of any system. One careless, seemingly insignificant mess up can leak all the information that is encrypted under eighty layers of code just because someone just put the translated paper in the bin. We kept an eye on the rubbish, messages, and conversations of the pilots and workers in Light industries. It was as easy as those multiple insignificant mishaps became significant and gave us the whole picture that we needed.”

“So, all we need to do is take over this ship with overkill security – no, not overkill security, Light security,” He looked around the room to see if people got the joke and only got flat expressions in response, waiting for him to continue, he rolled his eyes and carried on, “the company that can somehow negate Knight’s power, and supplies tailored Mythic weapons, which if used correctly can kill elemental Shades with less effort than when I kill some untrained guard? We have to do all this while they are revealing it to the public in front of millions, which includes any Mythic watching or whoever could stop us. Then, after all that, you want us to go to another kingdom entirely on the back of a stolen, most-likely-famous-by-that-point ship to liberate some downtrodden people to recruit them… sounds reasonable. About those beds, what time do you think you can get them? Also, can we get air conditioning? I’m sweating my balls off in this heat. Cool.” With that said, Flint stood up and casually left the room, leaving Ark and Ace in almost confused silence.

Ace looked at me as if saying, “What just happened?” I shrugged in response and followed Flint out of the room.

“Well, it seems our mercenaries are in agreement with our plan of action. Maybe we should find someone to get our guests some firmer beds, as they asked.”

***

I found Flint in what I believed to be the Dark Flame’s cafeteria, which mainly consisted of fruits and meat from the surrounding jungle, though there clearly were some supplies from elsewhere. There was an area around him which people hadn’t dared breach. However, I could feel their curiosity, respect, and even a slight feeling of concern radiating off everyone nearby like heat from the sun, as his wound had dyed the cloth around it a dark red as he had clearly not taken the same care to his wounds as I had mine.

“Knight, try some of the Flame’s food; it’s quite a lot nicer than the slop our mutual friend ever gave us,” Flint suggested once he noticed my presence. “They even have that whisky stuff, too; try it.”

He pushed a cup which was next to his plate toward me as I sat down on the other side of the table. I took a swig out of the cup. The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, and heat rose to my nose, giving me a strange feeling which wasn’t too unpleasant. The feeling went away as fast as it came, and Flint looked at me expectedly, clearly hoping for some reaction. I took another swig, my face as neutral as if it was water.

“See, maybe these Dark Flame guys aren’t that bad; at least their drink supply is plentiful. We can’t fault them on that. Food’s not bad either.”

“So, you’re the ‘big guns’ Sam was sent after.” A woman who wasn’t there a moment ago said while playing with the knife that had been attached to my belt, in an attempt at a power play. “Ark has some nerve sending a team behind my back, but considering how it apparently went down, I’ll forgive him this one time.”

“As much as we like hearing how awesome we are, and trust us, we know, could you get to the point a bit faster, lady?”

She shrugged with a small smirk, “Sure.”

The change was instant, the typical flood of background information became silent, all the sound and emotion I was so used to feeling were gone. If I were anyone else, I would be unnerved, but I had seen dimensional or arena type Legacies used before, though it was incredibly rare. I didn’t have any conventional weapons on me, but you don’t survive through as many fights if something like that holds you back. A successful Mythic is deadlier with a spoon than a regular person is with a gun at point blank.

This was not someone to treat lightly, at least if you cared about your own survival. That is why I turned to Flint, knowing how he’d react.

Flint just started laughing, “Lady, if you’re trying to intimidate us, you need to try harder than that. You can’t kill us anymore than we are already going to die, so feats of how easily you can won’t cut it on that front. I mean, that is a partial lie from me, but it gets the point across. What do you want?”

“What I want is simple: I want you to make sure this operation Ark has arranged succeeds as quietly and as humanely possible. I can’t talk Ark out of it, especially now he found you. Even though he agrees that it won’t change how they are viewed or that they will just be replaced as soon as we ‘save’ them. It’s always the same argument of ‘who else will help them’ and that it will ‘help the ones we do save’,” She vented at us. “He’s too stubborn an optimist to argue with.”

“How this ‘operation’, as you call it, goes is relatively out of our control, but we don’t really lose anything from trying,” Flint asked, wearing his sly grin; he clearly was enjoying the drama. “So sure, we’ll do what some random lady who apparently has power says, as we have nothing better to do. Though, what would you have done if we said no? Actually, retract that. We’re now going to fail this as loudly and inhumanely as possible! What now?”

She sighed, turning to me “That’s for me to know and you to have in your best interest not to find out. Keep your friend in line.”

The atmosphere changed as the background information came flooding back, though there was an increased feeling of unease as people took quick glances in our general direction.

“We must have made an impression if people are already trying to intimidate us.” Flint joked as he wiggled his eyebrows at me to emphasise what he was implying despite the lack of evidence to the claim. “Bet she wanted to check our allegiances. Or maybe she just wanted to check out the new meat.”

I stole an apple off Flint’s tray and stood up.

“They have training stuff on the opposite side of the building. It’s a big room with the word ‘gym’ on the door. Just to let you know,” Flint called out after me, knowing how I spent my spare time.

I left Flint to his own devices, eating the apple on the way to the gym. It didn’t take me long to find it, as the building was easy enough to navigate.

The gym was a large room, slightly better air-conditioned than the rest of the building. It had weights ranging from kilograms to some that were straight-up tonnes, a couple of running machines, a punching bag, as well as equipment for pull-ups and rest weights. The room was relatively busy, but the emotion was muted as people became entranced by the flow of exercise. I chose a running machine and mulled over the information Flint, and I gained that day.

The Dark Flame wanted us to help them steal an airship which had the latest technology humanity was able to imagine, and that’s all without considering the Mythics who would inevitably be watching the unveiling of Light Industries’ new continental travel tech. The only way to succeed would be to either be far gone before anyone realises or use the confidence brought on by their superior security to take it while everyone is watching and make them think they are in control until it is far too late for them to do anything.

They likely already accounted for the technopaths' hijacking, as otherwise we would be using one of them instead of Ace. As a consequence, we won’t need to worry about one fighting for control of the ship as soon as he's on the controls.

The Flame’s plan seemed difficult to pull off but not as impossible as it could be. Despite this, even in a seemingly foolproof plan, Murphy’s Law always seems to rear its head as anything that could go wrong likely will. In an endeavour like this, you always need a good enough imagination to improvise, otherwise even the most probable could become impossible depending on the circumstance.