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Prelude Part 1

It's almost frightening how little we know about what's around us. Most people think that all life contains pushing pencils, mowing lawns, fixing cars, and everything else mundane. And speaking from personal experience, they're better off not knowing. Because through the cracks of society lies a realm of shadows, an entire underworld of dark dealings.A place that will look back if you stare too long. Unfortunately, my current target is about to learn that all too soon.

The cityscape danced with piercing light in the dead of night, making me all the tenser as I prepped my gear amongst the stories' tall rooftops. So tense that the turbulent early summer air weighed on my equipment. Still, I pressed on as I waited for my "partner" to do his part.

"Security's light. I'm counting only twenty guards in total but two near his office. Viable entry and exit points are also nearby as well. This should be like taking candy from a gun-smuggling baby. Heck, I bet even I could come along," he said casually.

For a second, I almost considered it. Looking at my partner's tall heavyweight physique, steady gray eyes, and light brown crew cut, he looked built for battle even through binoculars. But I rejected it anyway.

"Thanks, James, but I need to sneak in, not a break-in," I said while shifting to my commlink, "Wiz, what's the Gearhead's status on surveillance and communications?"

"All communications and cameras are one hundred percent hacked. So they won't see you coming. So knock some heads, Paladin. We're all rooting for you!" she said excitedly amidst a group of half-hearted subordinates.

Alien feelings washed over me immediately. It's already been several months, but support and camaraderie were still new to me. I don't think I'll ever get used to it, and maybe that's for the better. Still, I couldn't help but genuinely say.

"Will do. Thank you, Wiz," I said as I put on my mask.

I pulled a small grapple gun from my belt, firing it right towards the office building until the line went taut. From there, I defied gravity, sailing across the night sky with expert grace until I landed safely on the rooftop. Even without James' info and Wiz's interference, I would still be fine as I sprinted out of sight of several bodyguards.

The two standing at the door of my target were also easy pickings as I knocked them out faster than they could react. Leaving me alone with my target as I started to paint the perfect picture. I enter your typical CEO office. It was a medium-sized room with closed blinds and two large shelves with numerous trophies and thick books.

And at the center of this quaint room was a large wooden desk decorated with paperweights and a singular picture of the target's son. A caucasian preteen with black hair and a lanky frame. I frankly couldn't see a resemblance as next to the picture was a short middle-aged caucasian man with a potbelly and subtle gray cowlick. His navy blue business suit matched the color of his focused eyes while he tapped at his computer with a feverish pace. From there, I made my presence known with a quiet door creek. Refusing to look away, the man aggressively stated.

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"I swear if you guys disturbed me over another pointless argument, I would flay your hide! I don't have time for any of your bullshit tonight," he said impatiently.

"Oh, I'm sure you can make it," I replied while I appeared to him like a vengeful wraith.

Before he had time to turn around, I grabbed the little businessman by the collar and throttled him towards the bookshelf. Various novels half a century old dropped to the floor as I covered his mouth to silence any shouts. A flash of fear and surprise overcame his face, but he desperately tried to regain composure through faux flexing while I unmuzzled him.

"I don't know who you are, but you've got plenty of nerve. Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?"

"Course I do. Ben Stan, of Stan Arms. But what I'm more concerned about is what you're doing," I said in creeping aggression.

"All I've done is provide people a service bitch," he said with even more aggression.

From there, I matched his bravado with bloodlust, pushing him harder and putting a sai millimeters away from his eye.

"Yeah, like giving mercenaries the "service" of illegal arms around the world for a year. Which is why you're going to give me the locations of both one by one and turn yourself in. Before this "bitch" takes away body parts, one by one."

In an instant, his mask of pride vanished, leaving only legitimate fear so powerful it left him stammering. And that fact was probably what saved my life. When you do this, as long as I have, you tend to notice how fear affects people. Little unseen expressions, flickers of the eye, and a subtle sound here and there were more than enough to tell a story. Ben and I weren't alone in this room.

Instinctively I leaped from Ben's person, an act that may have saved both our lives as a slimy gold liquid splashed where we once stood. A substance that soon started to boil like lava as it melted through part of the bookshelves, turning paper into smoking ash. Instead of looking toward my next opponent, I didn't dare let the feat register for me.

It was foolish of me to think that a year's worth of smuggling wouldn't leave Ben as a person of interest to more than just "us." And one look was all I needed to know that this man came from"our" world. So first, he got dressed in a full white bodysuit that looked like silk. Then breaking up the uniformity, he got decorated in gold cleats, masks, and eye lenses.

The real eyecatcher was his decorated golden gauntlets with that same golden liquid flowing like veins across his costume. Take in the golden symbol of a jurogumo (spider woman) on his chest; he looked fearsome. Luckily for me, Ben broke the tension.

"You reckless blockhead! I thought you were supposed to be protecting me?! How'd she get in?!"

With a cold expression, he stated.

"You're skating on very thin ice as it is, Stan, so I suggest you hold your tongue before I burn it off. Besides haven't you heard of a dramatic entra-," he said eccentrically.

Before he could finish, I seized the moment, switching my sai for a pistol. I fired from my left hand in less than a second, ending the fight as the strange man's body hit the floor. The sheer shock of the event was enough to ultimately send Ben's body quivering in a paralyzed fetal position.

"Crap and a half," I regretfully scoff underneath my breath.

With that, I just shortened my window even further. I wanted Ben to be shaken, not terrified. Nevertheless, I tried to spin things my way, aiming the smoking pistol toward Ben. I couldn't even get the words of my next threat out. A white, globby adhesive attached itself to what used to be my left hand.

Momentary confusion surprised me as several thick strands of the same adhesive attached themselves to my legs before tripping me up completely. Then, in an instant, the tide of battle changed as, in the most shocking twist of all, the same man I had just shot rose from the floor like a walking corpse. He was none the worse for wear, the only stark difference from earlier being a small meshy gel spilling out where I shot him. Still, he carried on as if nothing had happened.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it was rude to interrupt people? But, then again, cruel tactics make you worthy of your infamy, Paladin. Which is why it will be so much sweeter when I kill you," he said in a fanciful bloodlust.

For a brief second, I tried finding even an ounce of fear from such a threat. However, all I could find within myself was a surging rage. One that heated old scars from opponents that would've eaten this man alive. But since they can't be here, I guess that leaves me to teach this poor fool a lesson. So with my memories urging me forward, I summoned creeping savagery for my next proclamation.

"You're not the first person to say that," I said gravely.

"No, but I, Arachne, hope to be the last!" he said excitedly as he raised his gauntlets to take fire.

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