{Earth}

White light emanated from the Exalted’s three hundred and twenty-fourth son. It poured from his bones and surrounded him until it touched the horizon of reality. The bright threads fused the chasms and formed a network.

Sifting. Sorting. Groping. Exploring.

There.

Finding what he sought, the Aegis known as Razor snatched it as he did all things he wanted. He brought the many here to Earth. The chasms separated once more, leaving behind those discarded husks of would-be Probabilities. Expelling them from the Matrix. With the white light dissipating, he consumed the energy residing from unfulfilled potential. It receded into him along those bright threads and fed his hungry bones with fresh light.

Sixteen doctors. Twelve Chief weapons engineers. Twenty-two Icarean soldiers with a heart of gold. Five Icarean warriors with a penchant for redheads. Seventeen Icarean prisoners of war. Three golden-eyed Icarean diplomats. Ten brave humans with one amputated limb.

The summoned figures awaited orders on the hillside. The last Aegis swept his arm at them and announced, “They’re yours to command.”

Abresson stared with ambitious rapture at his small army of trained fighters. Each of those present swore their loyalty to the organization and touched Cascading Light. Each of them proud at the ready, prepared to serve their intended purpose. To serve what was Imminent.

Remorse, with his hands clasped behind his back per usual, nodded slowly in his approval. “Marvelous. Where would we be without you?”

High praise from the Primary always touched the Aegis known as Razor. It made him feel valuable to their organization. Valuable to someone who counted on him. Feeding in the process only sweetened the transaction. Reading how coldly Remorse regarded the former King of Cinder in Nox’s Verse only amplified the significance of his praise. Compared to that, the Primary treated the Pain Curator like a son.

“Yes, Razor. Such a truly remarkable talent in your possession.” The shorter and darker of the Tritans, Abresson never offered compliments. But he knew better than to challenge the last Aegis. Especially with Remorse present. Only Celindria earned that privilege.

A privilege the Pain Curator also exercised over the initiate with devious delight. He turned away from the army and headed for the conduit Rem allowed specially for this summoning. Calling over his shoulder, he assured, “I’ll return to my itinerary and report after tomorrow’s spectacle, Primary. Oh, and Abresson.” He stopped and faced both men.

One with a compression orb, standing at thirteen feet tall. The other half the height with bright white scars on his indigo skin. Both gazed at him curiously as the Pain Curator rarely addressed Abresson directly given their history.

Relishing the moment, the Aegis known as Razor shoved his hands into his pockets and casually kicked a rock. Nonchalantly, he informed, “There was some mistake with the Numbered rotations yesterday. Puk unwittingly assigned both Bethany and Ross to sexual encounters. I’m afraid neither girl is ‘clean’ now, to borrow your word.”

“A mistake?! That’s catastrophic! What kind of organization are you running? How can your subordinates be so incompetent?!” Abresson shouted a few more strings to voice his vile disappointment.

It was a lie, of course. The Pain Curator found the Tritan’s desire for inexperienced females grating. It’s one reason he wanted to keep his own daughter a secret. He knew even the Primary couldn’t spare her from the Tritan breeding program. Whenever she decided it’s time, she should get to choose and feel safe about her choice. And if whatever chosen bastard hurt her, Razor would break his legs and feed him to the Emporium—

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Remorse caught his eye. And winked.

Neither of them cared for the pimple. Abresson provided insight into the Shadow’s operations and facilities paralleled only by Tumu. And that old Primary never stooped to falling into Imminent designs. They’d planned to kill Abresson by now if Celindria had properly reined Kyle in for their cause.

Until then, the last Aegis settled for ruining the Tritan’s fantasies. He’d keep his word with Ross until she consented otherwise. The challenge of concocting delicious scenarios to draw out her consent entertained him far more than force or any obvious coercion. Perhaps with Matt? That benefited him nicely if the dynamic swayed them both into the organization. A delicate web to weave.

“Calm, now, Abresson. It’s done. There’s no way to undo it.” Remorse’s attempt to ease the other man’s verbal abuse lost some of its sincerity with that smirk on his near-featureless face. “I’m sure Razor is repentant.”

“Of course.” The Pain Curator tipped his top hat to the pouting Tritan. “I’ll arrange a conciliatory engagement with the Lyriks during your next visit to Gait. Until then, happy hunting, gentlemen.” For that, he’d easily leave the females on auto-response without his active engagement.

The Aegis known as Razor stepped through the conduit with Abresson’s grumbling at his back. The electric fizzing vanished behind him as the Primary collapsed the direct transport to his suites under the Emporium’s main floor. Running up the stairs, he sought one person.

In the daytime, light shone through the honey and cognac stained-glass ceiling. It bathed the floor in beams of twilight. The last Aegis always preferred the Emporium empty for this unobstructed view. These small touches made this his home more than a business.

Laughter and the murmur of conversation carried throughout the warehouse. Following the sound around the corner, the Pain Curator grinned at the source. Triss leaned against a stainless steel counter, chatting with Matt on the other side. Jokes, conversation, and even harmless flirting. Their camaraderie sparked no jealousy. Quite the opposite. The idea of those two getting along suited him just fine.

“Hey, welcome back, boss.” Matt toasted him with a glass made for a thick, creamy beverage humans called milkshakes.

Triss stopped mid-sip and gazed at the Pain Curator, enraptured. Instantly, roses perfumed the air. Always her eyes found his with such devotion. “Any complications I can help with?”

The Aegis known as Razor smiled congenially for the bodyguard and smirked for his lover. “Thank you, Matt.” To Triss, he dropped to the lower registers of his voice, “And no complications, but I am in need of you.”

She crossed the kitchen with a sway to her hips that enticed him. Warm vanilla and darker things sweetened the atmosphere. When her arms wrapped around his neck and brought him down to her lips, he mourned her already. Soft satin and a sweet taste. With an eager hop, she wrapped her legs around him. He moaned into their kiss and sat her down on the countertop. Disregarding their audience, Triss eagerly unbuttoned—never ripped—his shirt open and explored his skin.

The perfect disciple.

Matt inched his way to the basement, and the last Aegis broke their kiss to call out to him, “Before you go. Report.” He let the Lyriki siren turn him back to their kissing. Deftly, she unbuckled his belt and swiped it from the loops.

“A staff member asked for a personal day, so I got Puk to cover their shift. I switched the Numbered’s rotations for hot and cold routines to keep their reactions fresh and genuinely shocked. Ross tolerated her first session like one expects of the Progeny. I chaperoned her first visit with Bethany. It was uneventful.”

Hip-deep inside of Triss by the second sentence, Razor held her down to the countertop by her lovely throat. Soon her melodic moans and cries would drown out the human. Thus was the Pain Curator’s aim—

“And the Officer of the Third is visiting tomorrow with Pehton as his requested escort. The Sovereign Ambassador of Earth and Cinder will be with him.”

Tumu and Tameka. On Gait. With Pehton.

Their enjoyment interrupted, they both turned and glared at Matt. The strong floral scent told him they were so close to her first peak. This was not the best time for that news. Surely Abresson, Celindria, and Remorse thought to take care of this. To prevent them from leaving Enki. No matter. The two needed closure, with the Seamswalker missing.

The Aegis known as Razor intended to give it to them.