“Gather around.” Quinn ordered, waiting for the grunts to find their place within the storage room of the bar. Despite how dilapidated the exterior was, Sirius thought Quinn did a good job with the inside. Most of the casks and shelves had been dusted and repaired, looking absolutely gorgeous in the back, while the front of the basement was furnished with wooden floorboards and comfy seats that surrounded a pool table where Quinn had a paper map laid out.

It was a bit hard to focus with all the alcohol in the back. There used to be a time when everything Arun did was accompanied by a glass of alcohol. Twice he’d relied on the drink, the first during his whole…party phase that left him shuddering. The second time was after the bombs fell. Running jobs and fighting stupid wars had them both drinking a little too much…a vice he had no intention of picking up again.

“This is the map of the residential area.” Quinn’s voice snapped Sirius out of his thoughts, “The people here are–”

“--were” Leland snorted.

“...were a tight knit community.” He amended, his face forming into a frown, “Low records of violence or crimes committed, or of battles harming the local environment.”

“Now though.” Leland said, throwing some pictures to the table, “We’ve seen an increase of fucking everything within the area.”

The pictures were varied, some of crime scenes that had Arun recoiling, others were photos likely taken by Quinn and Leland’s investigations. Images of people who were so thoroughly broken Sirius couldn't tell their gender. Their bodies were torn apart, claw marks raking deep gouges into their bodies, organs and blood spilling out into a messy painting. He'd seen a lot of death in the Before, but nothing like this. Was that the end result of a person attacked by Pokémon?

The other pictures showed a more familiar sight. Eyes whose focus was not all there, thin and frail bodies covered in grime and…other fluids from their singular obsession towards a certain vice. TV did a good job of depicting what addicts looked like. Some were relatively normal looking, if a little dirty, while others over the edge often looked like walking corpses. But that was before the bombs, only after society collapsed did Sirius had firsthand experience seeing the worst of it.

Arun didn’t know what Al gave them, but whatever it was, it was addictive. The few times he and his brother travelled through Al’s camp before they decided to cut association with him completely, they’d see them. Broken people, itching and scratching, desperation and a sort of feral look about them. Victims, every one of them. A glance at Felis showed he was remembering the same thing, the scowl on his face showing his displeasure.

“Some of you have the look, good.” Leland nodded, “There’s a new drug in town ladies and gents, and its got all of Eterna by the balls.”

Four packets were thrown onto the pool table alongside the photos. Inside two of the little clear bags was a viscous liquid, a rich gold in color. The other two looked to have little cubes wrapped in a strange paper-like material, though Sirius could see a bit of that same gold leaking through.

A shiver crawled its way up Arun’s spine. He felt the telltale signs of adrenaline creeping through his system at just the sight of the packets.

“They call it ‘Ambrosia’, or if you’re from this part of town, ‘Amber’. Liquid is taken through boiling and inhaling, packets are placed on the tongue where they dissolve naturally. These babies hit a little harder and faster, but don’t last as long. What we have here is two different sets of the drug, does anybody know the difference?”

Nobody spoke up, and for good reason. Both were practically indistinguishable from the other. Leland looked around, and nodded to Quinn, who sighed heavily.

“These two,” He said, holding up one of the tabs and jackets of fluid, “Are what’s considered ‘safe’. Still gives off an intense high, still quite addictive, but your body won't be collapsing in on itself after a couple dozen doses if you're careful. What we have here is what the upper echelons of the city use, we’re talking prominent businesses, old clans, rich foreigners, the works.”

“That’s not what we’re dealing with though,” Leland said, tapping the other two packets at the table, “This is our job. What’s here is what’s being distributed. Lower quality product, Amber.”

“What makes it lower quality?” A Grunt asked.

Leland smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, even Quinn stiffened just a bit. The two shared a glance between each other before the latter nodded, and Leland gestured to the assembled Grunts to follow. All of them walked past the racks of wine before reaching a secondary door.

“Figure it's about time, anyways.” Leland muttered to himself.

Sirius expanded his senses as he heard it, a squelching thud! Thud! Repeated over and over again. He swallowed thickly as an unholy amount of desire pressed into his head. All of a sudden he felt like a piece of him missing, he needed…something….he needed it.

He NEEDED it.

“Snap out of it!” Felis whispered in his ear, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Breathe. Bring your senses back.”

Sirius snarled under his breath, pinching himself to find something to focus on away from the feeling. He did as his brother said, breathing slowly until the feeling disappeared.

“I’m good.” He sighed, “Thanks.”

“Aken says there’s a lot of negativity coming from there.” Felis whispered as the door opened, “I don’t like this, reminds me of–”

“I know.”

The open door revealed cells of all things. Thick steel bars with basic facilities in each, but something was wrong. The bars were jagged and crooked, like they’d been pulled and beaten before being set into the ground.

“Nobody’s going to talk, you’re all going to watch and listen. Clear?” Leland said, leading them deeper and deeper.

When all of them nodded they were finally shown what they brought down for. There, in one of the cells, was a man, though Arun couldn’t tell his age. The Grunt’s uniform was stained with reds and browns, his face covered in sores and open wounds that slowly leaked pus.

The rest of his body, the parts with exposed skin from the tearing of his uniform, showed the same. Open wounds like little craters, scabs that must’ve been ripped open again and again dotted what could could be seen, Sirius stiffened but a number of them recoiled backwards, he didn’t blame them. The man looked more animal than human.

“Leland is here! Leland is here with medicine!” The man smiled, revealing blackened gums. His hands still slammed into the bars of his cell again and again, mangled fingers and broken wrists squelching and crunching every time they made contact with the bars that held him back.

Despite the wounds and the sores and the robotic nature of the man, what scared Sirius the most were his eyes. They were milky, faded and colorless without any clear focus. Arun knew those eyes, those were Pranav’s eyes when he fell into his “abyss”, except this time the man could somehow still move and speak. It was like seeing an empty house with all the appliances running, it didn’t make sense.

“This, ladies and gentlemen, is Blake.” Leland said, keeping a wide berth from the man who’d temporarily stopped punching the steel bars. Instead he tried to wrap his broken fingers around them to get close, only for them to slip and fall through, banging his head against the iron. Still, the man did not look away.

“Blake is what happens when you lose here. They force fed him who knows how many pounds of this shit, and now he’s like…this. We found him inside an abandoned house, murdered some hobo to look for more of this.”

“Who’s they?” Sirius found himself asking. “Chronos?”

“Chronos are the biggest distributors of Ambrosia, yes.” Leland nodded, “But Amber we’re thinking is being distributed by the local gangs. Gangs we’re certain are being funded by Chronos and Aurafire.”

“But why?”

“No fucking clue. Whatever reason it may be though, doesn’t change the end game. Kill the bastards, drive out Chronos and Aurafire. We have full police clearance.”

“Blake can have Amber now? Leland promised.” Blake hummed, swaying slightly, “Blake has been waiting patiently, so patiently.”

A flash of emotion flickered across Leland’s eyes, but before he could say anything another Grunt spoke up.

“Can he…can he be cured?” The woman asked, her face pale.

“We don’t know. My Beautifly has been working to take out the poison, but whatever’s inside Blake is affecting more than just his body. That’s why we have researchers and doctors in our main base. Tomorrow morning Blake will be transferred out, and I-we–hope to see some results.”

“Leeeeeland.” Blake moaned, banging his head against the metal, “Promises shouldn’t be broken. That’s a bad thing, Leland is not bad.”

“Before you all leave this place, memories will be modified--” A series of protests rose up, but Leland slammed his fist against another cell, silencing them, “Shut it.” he hissed, “In that fucked up state, you don’t know how far you’ll go in order to find another hit.”

“They said I’d find it in the house.” Blake sang, “I looked everywhere, but someone else stole it from me. So I stole it back.”

A flash of frustration, a clenched fist, before Leland focused back on them, “With Blake they were dumb enough not to ask questions. That won’t happen a second time. So unless you want this whole operation jeopardised and your ass sent back in a grave, you’re going to agree to a small memory modification. If you have problems, front door’s that way, but that means you deal with Cyrus.”

Nobody moved.

“Good.” Leland took out one of the cubes from the “quality” packet, splitting it in half, then that half into another half. The whole time Blake watched with unblinking eyes, saliva dribbling down his mouth. The tiny cube was tossed into the cell, where Blake scrambled to catch it. His broken hands couldn’t hold it, so he resorted licking the packet off the floor, where he let out a sigh and collapsed into a heap.

“Blake is counting now…” The man mumbled, “Blake is counting for Leland’s next visit. Such a good friend…such a good friend…”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I knew him.” Felis said, as they stood outside the bar. His little brother was pacing, having already downed a shot glass when they went upstairs. Many of the others did the same, accepting glasses Quinn had already poured out in front of them.

“Yeah?”

“One of the guys who jumped me…I think. This memory modification thing is messing things up.”

They were worried at first when memory modification was brought up. Would that mean they’d be able to see through memories? Pour through information in their heads? Thankfully it wasn’t like that at all, instead memories that had to do with the term “Galactic” were blurred. Recalling them felt like trying to remember the contents of a dream, almost.

Sirius could remember bits and pieces, but when he tried to focus and recall the memories, they slipped through his fingers like sand.

“But I knew him!” Felis snapped, dragging Sirius’s attention back, “I knew him, he was normal. How the fuck did he get like that?”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

“We’ve seen this before, Pra-Felis.” Hm, memory modification also had him slipping up with names a little more sometimes too.

“Not like this, it wasn’t like this. Did you see his eyes? That wasn’t normal. That can’t happen to me Sirius, it can’t. If anyone steps up to me with that in hand I’m fucking killing them, alright? They try to make us vegetables they’re dea–”

“Hey.” Sirius said firmly, squeezing his brother’s shoulder, “Focus. Breathe.”

Felis squeezed his eyes shut, his chest shaking slightly as he tried to stop himself from hyperventilating. Slowly, ever so slowly with Sirius’s direction, he calmed himself, his breathing slowed, his brown eyes focusing once more as he opened them.

“Sorry.” Felis sighed, looking away, “Long day.”

“Don’t stress. You looked like you had something else to say about the Amber though, what was it?”

“Ah. Aken said it's “teeming” with negativity. Whatever’s in that stuff, it’s somehow giving off emotion.”

Sirius blinked, “I felt it too. Is that what that was?”

The ghost in question opened its eyes from Felis’s shadow, rising slowly. Aken had been practising nonstop over his shadow control ever since his loss to Valor, Sirius only knew he was there from how smug the little guy was feeling at being completely hidden.

A ping of worry from Aken. Pain was built into it. Delicious, but worrisome.

“I see.” Sirius sighed, “That just gives us more questions than answers though.”

“Par for the fucking course,” Felis groaned, “That’s always how it is here.”

“True that.”

Before they could say anything else, a feminine voice called out, “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Both brothers turned, seeing their “seniors” for the night. Both were older women, the first appeared to be in her late twenties, her heart-shaped face and peach colored hair that matched well with her lighter attire. Sirius would have guessed her age to be younger if not for the look in her eyes. There was wisdom there, experience. A signal from Felis confirmed the same thing, she wasn’t someone to be taken lightly.

The second felt more of an open book, one that had him just as wary. Sirius would have guessed her to be in her late forties or early fifties. Long navy hair, almost black, though stained with greys reached down to her back, and despite how small she was Sirius could see the muscles pushing against her clothes. Evidence of work in the field? What drew Sirius’s eyes though, was her face, or namely, the scar that ran from ear to her lip. Despite that she smiled warmly, a real smile, one that reached her dark blue eyes.

She felt…familiar. Though Sirius couldn’t remember where he’d seen her.

It was the older woman who spoke, though immediately after she had the younger glanced between the two, saying “You two are psychics.”

Felis blinked, looking at Sirius “We are?”

“Don’t know about that.” He lied, trying to look as confused as his brother.

It appeared the sudden denial of her claim had the peach-haired woman stumble on her next words, “W-what? No, you’re definitely psychics.”

“I’m pretty sure we’d know if we were.” Felis argued.

“My brother’s dumb, but he’s not that dumb.” Sirius agreed.

“Hey!”

“W-but we saw you talking to your Pokémon!”

So they were being watched. How much did they hear? Sirius couldn’t sense them either, were they hiding themselves?

“...Everybody talks to their Pokémon.” Sirius deadpanned, “Was there something we said?”

“No but–”

“I think that’s enough.” The elder woman laughed, amusement dancing in her eyes, “Before my compatriot embarasses herself further, my name is Gloom, and this is Omega.”

“Those…those can’t be real names.” Felis scowled.

“You’re right, they aren’t.”

“...oh.”

Gloom chuckled, “Part of being in Galactic means we keep our identities hidden to outsiders.”

“But we’re not outsiders. We’re Galactic”

“Truly? From what I understand you happen to be a couple thieves who stumbled their way into a job, and have somehow floundered about since.”

“In our defence we’ve done pretty well for ourselves.” Sirius frowned, crossing his arms.

“And it is because of that fact Omega and I have agreed to take you on.” Gloom smiled again, “You were by far the most interesting of the bunch–”

“And that offsets the fact that you’re also the weakest of them.” Omega finished, waiting for them to argue.

“You know, surprisingly…I think that summarises us pretty well.”

“So what’s the job?” Felis asked.

Gloom tutted, shaking her head, “One must honor all formalities before moving to business.”

“Ah.” Sirius said, “Sorry. Grunt Sirius, and my brother, Felis.”

“Shit, yeah sorry. Happy to be working with you two.”

Gloom smiled once more, and Sirius was beginning to wonder just how she got her ‘name’, “Now that introductions are done, come along. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Where are we going?” Sirius asked.

“Perhaps if we like you enough, we shall explain. But as of now, you are Grunts, and we are Agents, thus your superiors. Keep your wits and your Pokémon at hand, you’ll need both for a while.”

“Though from your track record, I think you two will be fine.” Omega grinned.

Quinn explained before Felis had gone for some air, but all Grunts would act as backup to Vets who were apparently the same level as Quinn, if not a little weaker. Quinn had managed to hold out a 2 vs 1 situation in a burning forest. What the fuck were the others capable of?

Sirius couldn’t shake the feeling of danger around the two. Whether it was in his head or if it was because he couldn’t sense them earlier, he didn’t know. Hell, maybe it could be the fact they were the only group of four amongst the Agents and Grunts. The others who’d come with them were paired off into larger groups with 3 or more Agents with them.

“The two of us work better in smaller groups.” Omega said when Sirius asked. “But since we had to take some Grunts with us, we’d take our pick based on people who’re a little more resourceful.”

Not being selected for their battle prowess was a little disappointing. Even if their Pokémon were weaker compared to the middle/high Class Two’s of their peers, more fighters was usually a plus.

“You may get your chance to fight tonight,” Gloom chuckled upon seeing their faces as they walked, “Perhaps if the enemy is beneath our concern. But push the thought aside, for now keep your eyes ahead, no eye contact.”

Their little journey had taken them to a more urban area of the district, filled with old buildings in need of repairs, flaking paint, and cracked pavement. The area felt neglected, but the neglect was contrasted by just how full of life the area was.

People and Pokémon wandered the streets, none of them looked very tough, with basic Pokémon like Geodudes, Wurmples, Bidoofs and the like, but there were still a lot of them. The street lamps felt extraordinarily bright, and from time to time they’d pass houses where people would bump to music.

“How the fuck do they make 808’s sound good with fucking saxophones?” Felis wondered, his head bobbing slightly at the beat.

Sirius had no idea either.

Still, with all the life around them, the area still felt hostile. Sirius kept his gaze ahead as asked, but through his periphery he could see some of the trainers trying to catch his eyes. The telltale sound of Pokémon battling one another, shouts and cheers could be heard between the music, and from time to time he’d smell fire or blood that sent his adrenaline pumping.

“Any reason why we keep our eyes forward?” Felis asked.

“Making eye contact is a challenge.” Omega said, her eyes also locked ahead, “And while we wouldn’t mind a battle from time to time, we’re on a schedule today.”

“Holy shit, that’s a real thing?”

“...Yes?”

Both brothers shared a glance between each other, two thoughts clear in each other’s eyes. The first was of course ‘That’s fucking wild’, and the second, ‘We should train here.’

“I suppose it’s because Unova isn’t as open as our Sinnoh,” Gloom hummed, “But to make eye contact in the wild is to declare yourself an ‘opponent’. Whether for food or for territory, challenge is issued when eyes lock.”

“Cool.” Sirius said, and he meant it. He supposed it worked that way in the Before too. Lowering your gaze was a sign of nerves or submission. You lowered your gaze if your parents were angry at you, or if your boss was complaining about slow work,

“Anything else we should know?”

“A lot, but that will come in time. We’re here.”

Sirius looked at a broken down building, it looked like an old warehouse. Omega entered the door, gesturing for them all to come through.

“Any instructions as to what we have to do?” Sirius asked.

Gloom thought for a moment, before she gave them a small smile, “Sit and look pretty.”

He looked to Felis, “We can do that.”

Felis grinned, “Easily.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Gloom” thought herself to be quite good at reading people, though it appeared the brothers she’d hired as bodyguards were the same. When it came to two groups of (rightfully) suspicious people working with one another, It was always a game of secrets and half-truths she’d have to uncover. Perhaps it was a blessing that Gloom was quite fond of games then, puzzles especially.

They were putting up an act, a very humorous one, but an act all the same. She doubted it was all falsehoods, neither could hide the raw curiosity in their eyes, nor could they fully hide their personalities. But a good liar always sprinkled some truth here and there, the game was to spot them.

So she prepared a little stage.

Eterna had hundreds of Warehouses just like the one she’d set the meeting in. It was an old city, with business only truly booming during the gym circuit. When that circuit wasn’t in place, corporations lost more money than they earned if they stayed. So they went “nomadic”, leasing out the warehouses for a small amount of time before leaving once more.

It worked great for Gloom, who decided all secret meetings should take place in seedy areas, and none were seedier than an abandoned warehouse (Omega told her she watched too many movies, but having movie nights 5x a week was not that many). So that’s where she found herself tonight, deep in an abandoned warehouse where she and Omega made their way to their designated spot, an open office just up a singular flight of rickety stairs.

She let out a content sigh as she sat down on the dusty couch, letting herself get comfy as she watched the brothers out of the corner of her eye. They didn’t pester her with questions, instead quietly moving to the rails where they’d have a good view over their surroundings while keeping themselves away from the lights. A good place to be, a shame that she already had Omega, the girl was the best lookout around.

And sure enough, after about 20 minutes or so with her eyes closed in a meditative trance, Omega nudged Gloom’s shoulder, whispering a quiet “They’re here.”

“Eyes open boys.” Gloom said aloud, “We’ve got company.”

A brief flicker of surprise danced across their faces, but it was quickly hidden as they took their places nearby. Her contacts made their way inside the building, weaving through open crates and eventually walking up a flight of stairs. Only two, just as they’d promised, though she was certain there were more outside waiting for an excuse to enter.

“Gloom.” The older of the two nodded.

“Vince.” Gloom smiled back. Vince was the leader of one of the larger gangs in the area, the “Low-down Alley”. She sometimes wondered if naming yourself after the area you lived in was smart, but they took pride in the name so she wouldn’t push. He was a young man, only in his late twenties, but she could see white hairs peeking through his dark reds. Pale skin showed off baggy eyes, and the way he leaned into the couch revealed he was a little grateful for the rest.

“Someone’s been ignoring their beauty sleep.”

“It’s been a tough couple of days.” Vince replied, before glancing at the two brothers, “Who’re they?”

A quick look showed Sirius staring at them hard with his arms folded, while Felis had somehow pulled a knife from somewhere, and was busy cleaning his fingernails with it while occasionally looking up. They earned another point of favor in her book for that. Omega and Gloom were more than capable of taking care of themselves, but they weren’t exactly what she would call “intimidating”. She loved to smile too much, and Omega was way too cute when she was angry.

“Guards, of course.” Gloom smiled, “The streets can be dangerous at night, or so I’m told.”

Vince snorted, before sliding over a folder, “This is everything we have on the 8th Road Roots. I hired a private investigator and everything.”

“Expensive.” The younger man beside him huffed.

Gloom opened the file, taking a look at the scribbled notes, photos, and drawn images their supposed P.I had collected. There was quite a bit, from the Roots’ home area to where they’d pushed beyond. A list of their Pokémon had been drawn up as well, far outclassing the ones the people in the area should have had access to. Photos of meetings, hands being exchanged with a little bit of gold flashing in the pictures.

Amber, and a lot of it.

“Now isn’t this concerning.” Gloom said, “Did your P.I say just where they were getting their supplies from? These look like class 3 Lairon. Do any of them have affinities for steel type?”

“None that the P.I. could find.” Vince replied, “They were all given, though she managed to find out a bit of where some of their operation was coming from.”

Gloom hummed, flipping through pictures until she found what she was looking for. Of course it was a club, right on the border of three routes, one which went down farther to the slums, another between a university neighbourhood, and finally a business sector. A good spot for a base, with people from all over a customer base.

“Now isn’t this risky…” Gloom muttered. “So close to places like these, law enforcement would definitely intercept…”

“But they haven’t.” Said Vince, folding his arms, “And I’m forced to watch my enemies grow rich and strong. It won’t be long before they start looking at my profits and decide it’s worth the fight.”

Ahh, she understood now. Gardenia had taken all the trainers, hadn’t she? Law enforcement was stretched too thin as it was, and while official Galactic members were on standby, they’d need to be called on by Police to act first. Well that was certainly interesting, perhaps it wasn’t a coincidence the forest was acting strange.

“Gloom.” Omega said, leaning in to whisper, “Take a look at that photo again.”

She glanced to where her partner pointed, and a slow smile spread across her face. There, blurred and off in the back, was a familiar uniform. Aurafire. Though these ones seemed to be sporting metallic greys instead of the reds and blues that were noted before.

“Where is this P.I of yours? I think I’d like a word with her.”

Vince grimaced, “Missing. Went to our regular rendezvous point but the only thing we found there was a broken camera and signs of a fight.”

Gloom frowned, “A shame. Very well, you’ve been helpful tonight, you may go.”

“What? That’s it?” Her contact scowled.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"You owe me."

“Owe you?” She chuckled, “And why do I owe you?”

“I got you your information, I put in the work, I carried the risk. You owe me.”

“And you are going to sit your scared asses here while we do the dirty work.” Omega growled, “It’s your territory that’s on the line, not ours.”

“But these are your enemies. And we paid for the P.I. Did you think that was inexpensive girlie?”

“An expense you decided was necessary.” Gloom cut in, “We will handle things from here as we have a common enemy. But you will get nothing from us. Your part is done, go home.”

“No.” Vince said.

“No?”

“No.” The red-haired man raised a cellphone from his pocket, “One button. All I have to do is press this one button and–”

His speech was interrupted as the cell went flying from his hands, thudding into the wall behind him. Gloom blinked, staring at the knife that now pierced the wall.

“I’m sorry,” Felis drawled, “You were saying?”

“Motherfucker!” The guard beside Vince roared, raising to grab a Pokeball from his waist, “I’ll–”

He too was interrupted as Sirius barreled into him, grabbing him from his waist and smashing him into the floor. The boy let out a gasp, fighting for air as Sirius stood, taking his belt away from him before pressing a foot into his neck.

“Anything you want to say Vince?” Gloom smiled, doing her best not to laugh at his expression.

“I may have been…hasty.” Vince frowned, his eyes narrowing at the four of them, “You may be right, we are partners, right? Sometimes partners make mistakes.”

“It appears they do. Release the poor boy Sirius, I believe he’s running out of air.”

The stockier brother grunted, lifting his foot off and returning to her side. Vince’s guard wheezed, looking angry as he regained his breath, but without his belt he remained wisely quiet. Good.

“This will be handled.” Gloom promised, “And after it is, you will be contacted. I owe you nothing Vince, but perhaps there will be some ill-gotten gains to be had after this is all said and done.”

Vince stared, his pride and logic warring with one another, before finally nodding. “Chase, apologize and get your Pokémon back, we’re leaving.”

Pokémon returned, Vince and Chase left, leaving only the four of them alone. It was only when Omega reported they had all left her range of sight did she let herself relax a bit, smiling once more.

“Well, I believe you two have performed excellently.” She said to the two brothers.

“The knife thing wasn’t over the top?” Felis asked, pocketing Vince’s broken phone.

“I thought it was kind of tacky at first.” Omega admitted, “But the throw totally made up for it.”

“And what a tackle from Sirius! Are you a fighter?”

“Not exactly.” The older brother shrugged, “Just have some experience is all.”

“Well, I am certainly impressed.” Gloom applauded, “But come now, the night is young and we have much to do. It’s time for some real fun.”

"We're raiding a club for drugs." Omega sighed, "How is that fun?"

She shook her head in exasperation. Honestly, Omega was such a rube sometimes.