“Traitor!” the man bellowed. His eyes were wild and stuck to my own, voice a mix of whine and anger. Techlock gasped loudly, a thin trickle of blood rolling down the side of his neck from the point of Geoffrey’s knife. “Where’s my mech? What have you done to my men? I want my mech!”
“We’re here to talk,” I repeated, the Nexus’s voice modulator amplifying my words into a metallic growl. “Let’s keep this civilized before someone gets hurt.”
Geoffrey let out a crazed, echoing laugh.
“Civilized? You barge in here, butcher my men, and now you want to talk about civility? Spare me the pretense, demon! You are of the void, and the heavens have consigned you to hell. I will take you there myself if I have to!”
I stepped forward, claws gleaming. Geoffrey was cornered and relatively helpless, but I had to be careful with him. One false move and Techlock was a goner. Sure, I’d rip that asshole a new one, but I didn’t want my friend to die in the process.
“You’ve got one chance to walk away from this alive,” I said. “Let Techlock go, and we can discuss terms. Everything else ends up with you dead.”
Geoffrey cackled.
“Do you think I don’t see through you? This isn’t a negotiation! You’re here to take everything I’ve built, to replace me. But I have your boss. Checkmate, demon. I kill him, and you go away.”
Techlock whimpered, while I stared at the man in mild shock. He honestly believed me to be a demon from hell. Heh, now that was interesting. Maybe it was a story I could sell all the bad people out there. The demon will come for you…CD would surely enjoy it, I knew that much.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Geoffrey,” I said, pushing the thought aside and stepping closer, the mech suit urging me towards violence as I struggled to keep things calm. “I’m not here to replace you. I’m here to stop you. What happens next is entirely up to you.”
Geoffrey’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening on the blade pressed against Techlock’s neck. The slight quiver in his hand betrayed his inner turmoil.
“Stop me? From what, demon? Protecting what’s mine? Upholding the legacy I’ve built with my bare hands? You’re nothing but a shadow, sent to undo the righteous.”
“Righteous?” My voice boomed, distorted by the mech’s modulator, and it came out as a harsh bark of laughter. “You call extortion, murder, and running slaves righteous? You prey on the weak, Geoffrey. You don’t protect anyone. You’re a parasite that feeds on the suffering of others.”
Geoffrey’s face twisted in fury.
“I follow the Church. I tithe, attend service, do the rites—everything I do is sanctioned!” He pulled his knife away from Techlock, gesturing wildly with the blade. “The fact that a demon is here to kill me, and not an angel, is cosmic proof of my righteousness! My karma is divine!”
Techlock squirmed, his face pale and eyes wider than I’d ever seen them.
“Geoffrey, please!” he whined. “I’ve always been loyal. I just—just made a mistake. Let’s work this out. You don’t need to do this!”
“Shut up!” Geoffrey snapped, his knife pressing back down against Techlock’s throat, drawing a thin line of blood. “You betrayed me. You made your choice, and now you’ll pay the price.”
I took a deliberate step forward, claws gleaming in the light. Geoffrey flinched but maintained his crazed expression, the knife trembling in his hand as it moved back to its place near Techlock's throat. His eyes darted between my wicked talons and hard-plated torso.
“You tithe?” I said, my voice dripping with disdain. The mech’s modulator distorted it into a guttural growl that reverberated through the room. “You pray? Then why am I here, Geoffrey? Why has hell sent me to your doorstep?”
Geoffrey’s wild grin faltered. The knife pulled a fraction away from Techlock’s neck.
“I—I’m righteous,” he stammered. “I’ve done everything the Church demands. The family, we—”
“Spare me your lies,” I snarled, taking another step closer. “Your hands are drenched in blood, Geoffrey. Your claim to faith is a mask for the darkness you’ve sown. You think the heavens smile upon you? No. They’ve turned away their gaze. And now, your sins have finally caught up and summoned me.”
CD’s voice crackled, his tone brimming with amusement. “Oh, this is delightful. Using dumb monkey ghost stories to defeat an all-powerful crime boss? What a grand twist! Not even I saw that one coming.”
I ignored him, my focus locked on Geoffrey, who seemed to be wavering between righteous fury and outright panic. But CD wasn’t finished.
“What a masterpiece of simian absurdity! The delusions, the trembling resolve—it's almost poetic. Truly, this is the pinnacle of your species' ingenuity. A man who weaponizes faith to justify tyranny, only to crumble when faced with his imagined devil. Bravo, humanity. Bravo. It only makes me feel even worse to consider we lost the war to your kind.”
“CD, not the time,” I muttered under my breath, my claws flexing in preparation for the next step.
“Oh, but it’s always time for commentary, Alaric. If this doesn’t end in fire and blood, I’ll be terribly disappointed. Geoffrey has so much flair. It would be a shame to waste it on mere groveling. Spill some blood and show him the demon you really are.”
Geoffrey’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he clutched at his dwindling composure. For a moment, I wondered if CD’s mocking voice had somehow reached Geoffrey, so clearly did he seem to understand the derision that was being directed his way.
“Go on, demon,” CD purred, clearly enjoying himself. “Show him the wages of his sins.”
Geoffrey’s face twisted, a mix of confusion and fear. He glanced at Techlock, as though expecting him to back up his claims. The movement of the knife faltered again, this time dipping so far that it had almost fallen from his hand.
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“No, no, no! You’re lying!” Geoffrey shouted, his voice rising in panic. “The Church protects me. My offerings protect me! I am a pillar of this community! You can’t touch me!”
“Do they?” I asked, my tone dropping low, almost whispering. “If the Church protected you, why would a demon stand here now? Why are your men dead, your power crumbling around you? This is not divine protection, Geoffrey. This is retribution for all the bad you’ve been doing, and still are in your final moments. Murder before a righteous entity such as myself?”
Geoffrey’s lips moved soundlessly, whispering a prayer. Techlock whimpered but stayed still, his pale face and beard streaked with nervous sweat.
“Release him, Geoffrey,” I commanded, taking another step forward. “Prove your righteousness. Let the weak go. Show mercy. Prove to me and the Satanic League that you are a servant of the Heavens, and that you are not one of us.”
Geoffrey stopped his prayers, and his knife slowly moved away from Techlock, though his staring eyes remained locked on my body. I had no doubt that one step forward would have his blade right back on Techlock’s gullet. I simply waited and watched as the situation unfolded, luckily getting better with each moment.
“I . . . I—” he began, his voice cracking.
CD’s voice cut in smoothly, finishing Geoffrey’s thought with exaggerated mockery. “I’m a dumb simian who believes in children’s stories.”
I snorted, the sound translating to a demonic crackle through my mech’s speakers. Geoffrey jolted, nerveless fingers dropping the knife as he flinched backwards.
Tech took his chance, scrambling up and away from the unnerved crime boss. He pushed a chair at him and darted past me into the corridor.
“Are we really going to make that man the new head of Geoffrey’s organization?” CD asked sounding more incredulous than anything.
“The fact that he’s running makes him perfect for the job,” I whispered back. “I can’t do it because I’m a serf. But a known mid-level criminal gone top? That’s acceptable. People will allow that. Trust me.”
Meanwhile, Geoffrey stared as his lifeline fled past reach, before dropping to his knees and clasping his hands together, face tilted upward.
“Our Father in Washington, who triumphed over the Daemons in hallowed fight. Thy kingdoms above, thy will be done, in this city as it is ordained. Give me this day thy protection, and forgive me my enemies as I liberate them from their mortal coil. Lead me not into ruin but deliver me. By the rockets’ red glare, I pledge allegiance to thee and thine—”
CD interjected with glee, and not a moment too soon. “The whining, the crying, and the groveling. How delectable.”
Geoffrey looked back at me, paused, tears on his face. Glaring now, his voice broke into a desperate, quivering melody.
“Oh banner of the sacred flame, waving o’er the land of justice! Guide my hand, strike down the wicked, and shield me in the glow of your righteous light! Long may your reign endure, from the mountains to the alleys!”
Geoffrey’s tear-streaked face twisted into something primal, his trembling lips pulling back to reveal clenched teeth. His hands, shaking moments ago in prayer, now curled into fists. Slowly, he rose from his knees, a deranged glint sparking in his eyes. What was he even thinking? Did he want to fight a mini mech?
“You think you can take everything from me?!” he screamed, his voice cracking. “You think this is your victory, demon?”
I stood still, claws poised but unmoving, watching as Geoffrey’s desperation reached its crescendo. He staggered forward a step, then another, his body trembling as his hand shot to his waist. From a hidden sheath, he produced a short, jagged blade, its surface glowing faintly with crimson energy—something mid or old tech that radiated not the expected heat, but instead a feeling of mental pressure.
I stepped backward, bewildered, my head suddenly sparkling with pain.
“You’ll see,” Geoffrey spat, his voice a frantic, trembling snarl. “The Gods protect me! Washington guides my blade, and Lincoln shields my body. The righteous cannot fall! I will end you, demon!”
With a guttural roar, he lunged forward, the blade aimed wildly at the Nexus’s torso.
As he lunged, the pressure in my mind increased. I screamed as the mother of all headaches threatened to knock me out, leaving me defenseless against the deranged crime boss. Time seemed to slow as I tried to bite through the pain and shake my mind free from whatever was going on.
Fortunately, the Scout Nexus reacted on its own. I could feel it overwhelm me and take full control. My claws moved in a blur, intercepting the thrust with a toe-curling screech of metal against energy-coated steel. Geoffrey’s momentum carried him too close, too fast, and I twisted, flinging the blade from his hands.
Arcing through the air, I saw sparks fly from the now shattered weapon, circuitry spraying in an arc. My headache was gone, but my body was not yet my own.
The Nexus moved on instinct, my right claw moving in a clean, deliberate strike. Geoffrey gasped a sharp choking intake of breath as my claws tore through his chest.
He reached out, his arms seizing my body for stability. For a moment, his wild eyes stared at me, filled with disbelief and defiance.
“I am righteous,” he gurgled, blood spilling out his mouth and nose.
“You did this, not me,” I said softly, my voice still twisted and demonic, but now with a trace of compassion filtering through as well.
I shoved him and Geoffrey’s body crumpled to the ground. Blood pooled beneath him, his lips moving soundlessly in one last prayer.
CD broke the silence with his laughter.
“Well, that was dramatic. I give it an 8 out of 10 for flair, but only a 6 for strategy. Really, Alaric, you could have made it messier. The Torans made every leadership duel into exquisite theater.”
I ignored him, stepping back from Geoffrey’s lifeless form. My gaze shifted to Techlock, who had crept back into the room, his face pale and his breathing shallow.
“Any idea how Geoffrey communicated with his lieutenants?” I asked, my eyes searching the room.
Techlock nodded.
“Mid tech military grade spin-up phones.”
He walked across room, stepping through blood and over debris, reaching an overturned bench and bending down to search underneath. He rose moments later with a scratched and dented olive-green phone unit in his hand.
“This is it,” he said. “Geoffrey's direct line to his lieutenants.”
I glanced down at Geoffrey’s lifeless form and nodded.
“Call them here. Geoffrey’s empire doesn’t crumble unless we make it. It’s time to take control, Techlock.”
CD chuckled.
“Don’t forget to play up that whole demon thing, monkey man. Yell some evil words, do a scary dance. Apes scare easily. Maybe one of them will even defecate themselves. Oh, that would be so funny to watch!”
“Umm, Alaric? What do I say?” Techlock asked.
It was strange seeing him so lost and confused. His unmasked face was twisted in dread, and his left hand played with his beard as he stared ahead.
“Tell them Geoffrey summoned them for an emergency meeting,” I said, finding my voice again. “We’ll handle the rest.”
Techlock nodded, swallowing hard as he set down the phone. He reached for a weathered metal box nearby, its edges scuffed and rusty. Unfolding a crank handle on its side, he hunched over and began to turn it. The device ground and whirred, an indicator light on the phone itself flickering to life.
“If this goes wrong—” he started.
“It won’t,” I cut him off. “Because if it does, you won’t have to worry about Geoffrey’s lieutenants. You’ve got a demon on your side.”
Techlock nodded, pressed a large worn button labeled 0, then leaned back against the wall. I stepped back, watching the door as a precaution.
“Geoffrey wants all lieutenants at the bunker,” he said into the receiver, his voice low but steady. “Now. No delays.”
He ended the call and looked up at me. “Well, that’s that. I figure they’ll be here soon. You don’t say no to a man like . . . well, he’s gone now so it doesn’t really matter.”
“Good,” I said, turning toward the carnage-strewn room. “Get ready to convince them that you’re the one keeping this operation alive. And if anyone objects . . .”
I flexed the Nexus’s claws for emphasis.
“Yeah. I’ll make sure they understand who’s in charge.”
CD laughed again.
“Ah, Alaric, you’re getting the hang of this. Nothing says ‘succession planning’ like a bit of murder and mayhem. Maybe I even get to enjoy myself a bit this evening.”
“One thing, Tech. Clean yourself up. You’re about to meet your new staff. I’ll keep guard, and you go to wherever the bathroom is in this place. Make yourself presentable.”
Techlock nodded, setting down the phone and striding for the door.
“Elli,” I whispered to myself, following after him. “This is how it starts.”