Sharp butterflies spun and fractured about him. Dancing on ribbons of azure, weaving in and out of their brethren. 

   He flowed between them, as light as a feather, eyes wide in wonder as he took in the world about him. He peered closer to one of the curious creatures and marveled at how the light split and refracted off them, like a broken mirror given the gift of flight. As he looked closer still he saw a pair of eyes, brown like his own, looking back at him. These eyes looked just as surprised as he was, before the butterfly spun and revealed it's transparent nature. He saw the city skyline through it, saw that telltale blue glow, and towering above everything was the Monolith.

   That impossibly huge, hauntingly enigmatic artifact that had made the empire of Tovoch what it is today, despite no one knowing what it is. 

Seeing it like that, dwarfing all around it, took some of the blissful enjoyment out of the scene before him.

And then, the rest was taken as well.

   He felt a tug, his momentum vanished and the butterflies turned to glass and carried on without him. He tilted his head down and looked at his foot. His insides lurched as he saw an armored hand gripping his ankle, with a surety found only in the immovable. 

He caught the hint of a silhouette in the gloom of his 13th floor apartment and shuddered. Whatever it was, it was big. 

   As reality began to regain it's hold on his mind, close behind it came the hurried footsteps of horror up his spine. This was only strengthened when the big man hauled him back into his apartment, with what appeared to be terrifying ease. Time resumed it normal pace as he was pulled through the shattered window, the glass remaining in the frame dragging themselves down his stomach and sides. The sound made him want to retch.

   The pain finished off the high he was enjoying. Butterflies turned to glass and tumbled down to the street below, and sound rushed back with uncompromising clarity. Sirens, cars, the hum of the Line-Ark. And beneath it all, a low key buzz sounding from the Monolith.The destroyed window allowed the ambience of the city to fill the small place.

   The shadowy figured that had grasped his foot resolved itself into a towering figure of a man who looked down on him like a god might look upon mortals.

He looked back at the broken window frame, then looked back at the towering man, smiling almost apologetically.

   “He jumped out the window!’ stated Davoi, a look of surprise on his face. The observation was aimed at the other big man who was hauling the fugitive back into the apartment living room. 

“What gave it away?” replied Thïaz as he pulled the would-be red mush back on his feet, “Geez, that glass did a number on him.” He began to carefully brush glass from the jumper's sides, when Davoi suddenly cried out. 

Thïaz looked up just in time to see their captive jab a small device into his own neck. The red vial emptied and Thïaz let out an exasperated sigh.

   “Oh shit.” 

   The scrawny man immediately delivered an uppercut into Thïaz’s chest which launched him into the ceiling. As soon as Thïaz landed the man went to pick him up, no doubt to punch him again, but luckily Davoi had recovered from the sight of his friend hitting the ceiling. Davoi tackled the drugged up assailant and charged him into a nearby wall. The wall clanged, cheap paint flaked off and the sparse furnishings gave a shudder. 

   The fugitive roared and struck with his elbow into Davoi’s back. It did not land however, as Davoi punched the man's tricep as he drew it back to strike, crunching it into the wall. Two more punches from Davoi snapped the man's head back and forth, his augmented confidence disappearing from his face with every blow. 

   He swung wild and Davoi ducked delivering a devastating combination into the liver and ribs. The man doubled over gasping but quickly recovered, grabbing a lamp which had fallen off a cheap cabinet and went to swing it into Davoi's face. Thïaz clasped his arm mid swing, having regained his feet to join the brawl. 

   The man's face turned to him in annoyance, which quickly changed into a grimace of pain as Davoi took advantage of the momentary distraction to slam a huge haymaker into his solar plexus. The man's legs gave way beneath him, falling to the floor like a ragdoll. But he was launched back up to his feet by a knee from Thïaz, sinking deep into his abdomen. 

   Thïaz continued the assault with a punch to the bicep and one slamming into his shoulder joint, it was effective as the man’s arm hung limp by his side.

   The man gave a frustrated roar and lunged for them before a right hook from Davoi sent him spinning into the floor where he stayed, the chemicals keeping him conscious and upright now spent.

   The apartment grew quiet save for the three men breathing steadily, despite the sudden melee.

   Thïaz leaned against the wall, hand rubbing his chest, “Red Dog! Didn't think anyone used that anymore. Nice punch by the way.”

Davoi stepped over to the man to roll him with his foot, “If people are desperate enough they will do anything,” he turned to regard his partner, “you are very scary Thïaz, I wouldn't blame a man dosing up after seeing you burst through the door.” He chuckled as he pulled the vial from the man's neck.

   The two men regained their composure quickly, and after making sure their target was out cold, they began to scour the apartment.

   Thïaz cast his eyes around the dingy abode, though there was not much to see. A single room with a small kitchen in one corner, a bed that folded down from the wall, with many questionable stains and no covers either, and an old set of Lenses resting in a bean chair in the corner. Thïaz grimaced and continued his search over to the kitchen. The man's cupboards had the standard assortment of food blocks, he could see green and red, as well as some flavour changers. But the last cupboard has a not-so-standard assortment of illicit pharmaceuticals. 

   “Exee, Whisper, Deep Blue and more Red Dog.” Davoi whistled as Thïaz went through them. 

   “We probably interrupted him swimming,” Davoi laughed, “Must have been quite a sight seeing us arrive.” 

Thïaz uttered a rumble from deep in his gut, shoulders rocking up and down in amusement.

Davoi took one last scan around the depressing domicile.

   “Do you think he has one, like the contract says?” He asked to Thïaz, who shook his head slowly looking at the man on the floor.

   “No, same as always, Scrawl’s chasing ghosts.” He let out a sigh and took out a pair of handcuffs. 

   “Okay Daniel Fren, a.k.a Boney Daniels, you are coming with us to the Blue Room.”

   They had all followed the same promises, they had all believed the stories, the grand hearsay. The propaganda. 

In the Shadow of the Monolith, we will be improved

   They had all come to be made better, to achieve more, more than they could ever hope for. But they soon saw the lie for what it was.

   Oh, you could indeed be great, if you chose to step over your fellow man, grinding those that were weaker into the ground, as you climbed to the light. 

   They tell you nothing of the corporate warfare spilling into the streets, of gangs unleashing chaos to fill a void of meaning, of the unrelenting toil in factories to spend the remaining moments living their second life.

   They tell you nothing of the truth.

Boney Daniels thought of this bitterly as he dragged his feet, following the big man in front while keeping a safe distance from the man behind.

   He is not what you would describe as a brave individual. He had slipped his fair share of arrests, eluding hotheaded enforcers by his general weaseliness. But it seems like his luck has run out, he lamented. He knew that as soon as the shadowy ogre bust through his door in a whirlwind of splintered wood. Both broad, one taller than the other. Duster coats hung across their demonic frames, barely skimming the floor, like cloaks of flayed skin. Thinking back on it, he shouldn't have tried to throw himself through his window. Mid swim he forgot he was 12 floors up. Luckily the taller man was quicker than he looked and managed to pull him back inside. Though it didn't seem like good luck now, as they walked him towards his inevitable death.

   Why, oh why, did he snort so much Deep Blue.

Now look at him, walking between two very dangerous men with his hands bound. Dangerous men indeed. 

   He had the agonising telltale ache all over that a shot of Red Dog gives you after you come down and regain your senses. Yet these men were still alive, and unbelievably, appeared to be unharmed. He still didn't understand how that was possible but all he knew is that these men are more than they appear.

   He tested the cuffs once more and looked at his hands. Metal, which was unusual, scuffed from use, which wasn't encouraging. These guys were old school definitely.

   He appreciated that in a morbid way. The new handcuffs used by the Greycoats could send bolts of pain through you with a simple voice command! They could set it so that it feels like your skin is burning, or that insects are feasting on you, crawling inside and biting your veins.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Compliance guaranteed! 

As the slogans went.

   He could probably slip the cuffs, he was Boney after all. Even if he did slip them however, he did not fancy his chances outrunning these two, they caught him out of a window for Goa’s sake. 

It's official. He was done.

   The three men continued on their way, the high hung street lamps glared piteously down on any foolish enough to raise their eyes up in hope.

   Boney Daniels was forlorn, his chin resting in the crook of his neck, arms hanging limp, his entire posture dejected. Davoi and Thïaz were calm however, each lost in his own thoughts, their boots clanking on the metal sidewalk.

   At the back of his mind, Boney Daniels realised that they weren't going towards the Line-Ark terminal, where after a short ride the Remuneration Bureau would be waiting for him. Instead they travelled parallel, leaving the crushing density of the city proper to infinite winding alleyways and small industrial complexes of the outer quadrants. His mind registered this, but currently Boney Daniels was far too upset to care.

   They continued to turn down road after road, the captors effortlessly herding Boney between them. Harsh street illuminators gave way to a more subtle light. No longer did it blind, but instead promise silence and sanctuary from the immediate overwatch of the city's main streets, as well as shadows in dark alleys to do unspeakable evils. Boney Daniel's exhausted mind reared into frightened action as this thought broke, his head darting around looking for a means to escape.

   “We're here,” 

A deep voice sounded behind Boney, who shrieked in fright. 

   A firm grip latched onto his shoulder, anchoring him to his current place. A strangled gurgle escaped Boney's lips as he squirmed in ever mounting panic. 

   Thïaz walked towards an unmarked door and knocked three times, his knuckle clanging on it's metal face. An eye height slot opened and regarded the visitors momentarily before snapping shut.

Locks and latches cranked and scraped as substantial door protection was released. At last a big man opened the door and cast his arms wide to receive guests, his barrel gut preceded him out the door. 

“Davoi and Thïaz, my boys, come in come in,” he stepped back inside and gestured to them excitedly. “It has been a while hasn't it, another lost soul in need of sanctuary has brought you here no doubt.” Without waiting for confirmation he continued, “Come, Calm is at the bar.”

   The two men, stepped inside and exchanged greeting with the doorman before climbing up a narrow set of stairs. 

   The men lapsed again into silence with Boney in between them once more. The air had a smokey quality to it, and the stairs were made of old stained wood, slightly sticky the way bars often are. Looking at the floor, Boney did not realise the floor had leveled off and almost walked into a table. They had entered a large room.

   His hot, tired eyes took a while to adjust, the lighting was almost what you would call a “din”. Allowing secretive corners for illicit conversation, and shady deals. 

   The men continued suredly, weaving in and out of tables heading towards the bar. They took two seats for themselves and pulled out another between them. They indicated it to Boney Daniels, then turned back towards the bar.

Boney sighed, and sat down.

   “What can I get you gentleman?” asked the bartender.

   “I need a Buzz, Calm, I am doing some number crunching tonight, need something to keep me going.” 

   “No problem Thïaz” replied Calm, nodding to the tall man. “Davoi?”

   “I Need To Sleep, got a feeling it's going to be my last chance to get a decent kip.” Davoi said, shaking his head. Thïaz frowned at his partners words. 

   “Know something, Davoi?” He asked, “What's got you spooked?” 

   Calm turned back to the bar as they talked, with Boney Daniels looking back and forth between the men, curious despite his situation.

   “It's his fault” said Davoi, shrugging his shoulder in the direction of Boney, whose eyebrows went to hide in his scraggly mess of hair.

   “Me?!” Exclaimed Boney, not wanted to be placed with the blame for denying this man a good night's sleep. 

   Davoi rubbed his hands back and forth through his hair in frustration before turning to Boney with an earnest look on his face.

   “Why’d you do it Boney, you were small time, an insignificant ganger, you stupid rhokta.” 

   “Woah!” Exclaimed Boney, a shocked look on his face, while Thïaz and Calm chuckled quietly. A few of the other patrons laughed or looked over at the expletive. “That's a bit uncalled for, isn't it, I mean I may have done everything on the up and up but…”

   Davoi cut him off with a wave of his hand, “You were small time, Boney, of no interest, not worth enough to track down, but then you went and changed that, your just a kid for Goa’s sake.”

   With eyebrows furrowed Boney said, “You talking about the Red Dog.”

   “NO! I am not talking about the Red Dog!” retorted Davoi.

   “Because I am sorry about that, I really am.” He turned to Thïaz to deliver his honest apology, which Thïaz accepted with a gracious nod of his head.

   “Do you know why we are bringing you in?” said an increasingly exasperated Davoi, gesturing with his hands to Boney Daniels, waiting for an answer.

   “It's not about the Red Dog?” Asked Boney again, really thinking it was about the Red Dog.

Davoi looked back to the drink Calm just placed in front of him as he replied in monotone. “You are wanted in suspicion of possessing or having knowledge of the whereabouts of Scrawl Concepts.”

   The bar grew quiet. Davoi noticed Calm spilling Thïaz's drink and discreetly begin preparing another one. He also noticed the colour drain from Boney's face, his lip quivering in dread. 

His mouth flapped uselessly as he struggled to speak. Davoi just shook his head and began to drink.

   “Nnnn, nn, n….no, no I didn't, I didn't I didn't.” Stammered Boney Daniels having found his tongue. “I swear guys, I don't have anything of the sort.”

   “We know Boney, everyone knows, people like us do not see such things” rumbled Thïaz in an attempt to reassure him, it did the opposite however.

   “Then why the fuck am I in cuffs,” shouted Boney, fear fuelling anger, as he knew full well the penalty for such a crime.

   “They don't care Boney,” answered Davoi, fingers massaging his temples. “Any hint of a concept makes them drop big pieces in exchange for any person or persons involved.” 

   “Money then, you are going to hand me over to those psychos for money,” said Boney, he had started wringing his hands together, the handcuffs adding a chilling rattle to the motion.

   “You know that's not the only reason,” said Davoi in a low voice. “Calm.” The bartender indicated he had heard with a tilt of his head, not turning away from the drinks he was making. “Help Boney Find Peace”

   Calm turned to Davoi, looking to ascertain the conviction in his request. “You know they don't like that Davoi.”

   “Pickaneer is on tonight,” said Davoi, returning the look. 

    With clear understanding the barman nodded and turned to prepare Boney’s drink. “I see.” 

Boney had watched what passed between the two and had lapsed into silence. 

   Calm turned to him and placed a glass down on the bar top. “There you are my friend, a chalice full of Nirvana. Not a bad way to go if you ask me.” 

   Boney was quiet as he regarded the choice before him. The liquid was clear except for a very faint sheen of gold. He could smell it too, divine scents drifted through his mind, a euphoric caress. And oblivion. A high that will not end, until he did. 

   “Drink up Daniel,” said Davoi, looking at Boney right in the eyes. “Please.” 

    Daniel Fren felt a weight on his shoulder and turned to see Thïaz, who issued a near comforting clap to the back before returning to his Buzz.

Daniel sighed through shaky lips as he lifted his glass, and took a sip.

   Jezard Sim looked up from his data pad as the grand blue doors slid open. “Ah, there you are, you had me worried.” He began to tap his holowatch. “Didn't think you would make it back in time. I would hate to see your names appear on our hallowed blue paper,” he finished with a chuckle.

   Davoi and Thïaz walked slowly over to the main desk. The Remuneration Bureaus sigil flared brightley as they walked beneath it. A wide open receiving area lead directly onto the main street in the Gazenthuun, and the hot summer air could be felt each time the myriad of people going opened those blue doors as they went about their business.

   Jezard Sim was a wiry creature. Dark slicked back hair displayed a pristine forehead, inset with dark, darting eyes. A snake with a silver tongue. 

   “I see you have Mr. Boney Daniels with you.” He leaned round to see the dishevelled old man. His grin quickly disappearing at the dazed look on Boney’s face. 

   Scurrying out from behind the desk and grasping Daniel's chin in one hand, he lifted the fugitives face to his own. “Argh, look at him, he's not even here!”

    “There were numerous narcotics at his house, Jezard,” explained Thïaz, “He dosed up with something before we could cuff him.” 

   Jezard looked up at them for a while, tapping his finger on his knee, saying nothing. Abruptly he stood and let out an impatient noise as he resumed his place behind the desk. “Pickaneer will be sorely disappointed with this development, hopefully his skills will break through this stupor, isn't that right gentlemen.”

   Davoi and Thïaz grunted in reply, just as a giant slab of muscle emerged from a door behind the desk. Making little effort to disguise the blood covering him, Pickaneer approached the group with a chin splitting grin.

   Jezard turned and let out a sound of joy. “Ah Pickaneer we have use of your talents.” He paused and turned to the pair. “You didn't find any evidence of Concepts, did you?” 

   After acknowledging the shake of their heads he turned back to Pickaneer. “There you are, see if you can cut through whatever drug induced numbness has taken over this man, we must have the truth.”

   He clapped his hands in excitement and turned back to the display on his desk. Davoi and Thïaz watched as Pickaneer grabbed the scruff of Daniel Fren’s shirt and begin to drag him away. The last glimpse of Daniel they had was of the serene expression on his face, heaven filling every part of his smile.

   “Now then, payment,” hissed Jezard, “Well done gentlemen, another successful mission to add to your ranking, your pieces are already in your accounts.” 

    The men nodded in thanks and turned to leave, but before they reached the main doors to the Remuneration Bureau, Jezard sent them parting words. “Come again gentlemen, and don't worry, we will take good care of Mr. Daniel Fren, if I am not anything else I am true to my word, you can be sure of that.”

   The men walked most of the way home in silence, shadows darting in and out of hiding as they passed under street lamps. Thïaz turned to his friend and saw his eyelids fall, remembering that he did tell Calm that he Needed To Sleep, but apparently he should have told him when. 

   “You okay there Davoi, you're looking tired.”

Davoi grunted in response. “You want to tell me how you knew that guy?” They turned the last corner before their stop as Thïaz continued. “I’ve never seen you buy a drink for a ganger before, even if Pickaneer is on interrogation duty.”

   Davoi exhaled slowly, “It's nothing really, it's a bit silly in fact. When I have been doing the late shifts I listen to music, just to make it bearable.” His eyes looked towards the sky, away from Thïaz’s attentive gaze. “Anyway, I found this one station where a Master Fren played old music tracks, you know, like the stuff we listened to growing up, and what our dad's listened to as well.” The summer storm that had been building over the last week broke, with thunder and lightning accompanying rain down to the surface.

   Davoi tilted his hat at a greater angle and carried on. “Not many people listened to it, but he didn't seem to mind, just carried on playing great tracks.” He turned to look at Thïaz, “I did my research, as I am sure you did too. Daniel didn't have any Concepts, he didn't have anything of the sort, he just…”

   “Opened a v-mail,” finished Thïaz. 

   “Yeah,” said Davoi bitterly. “That kid who likes old music opened a v-mail, then we handed him over to that bastard.”

   “He was still a ganger Davoi, despite his taste in music,” reasoned Thïaz.

“I know, but he was just a kid who saw Ruian, and thought 'cool’.” Davoi reached into his pocket for his keys, when Thïaz, with a sense of urgency, jabbed his finger towards the door. The faint red light below the handle was barely visible beneath the streetlight, but it was there nonetheless.

   They drew their handguns, digital readouts flaring into life along the barrels, and pressed the emergency door release in the frame. 

   It swung silently open as they fell into step with one another. A short scout of the office led them to their intruder, seemingly prepared for their sudden entrance.

“Gibson & Gale, I assume. "