The metallic monstrosity the likes of which could only be described as a flying scrapyard rose high in the sky, leaving the warehouse and the thugs behind. The thing was so loud that each rotation of its blades sounded like a bomb, and yet, the insides were fully silent - a neat little feat of magic that the pilot was thankful for, though Sunburn didn't care all that much. Draskian forges were MUCH louder.
The pilot's seat and the passengers' area were separated by a wall of metal, one that was also affected by the sound-proofing enchantment. Said passengers' area was also normally pitch black, devoid of any light due to the vehicle's unique origins, but it didn't bother Sunburn either, he was his own light source thanks to the glowing spots of his armor after all.
And so, as the "helicopter" flew above Zalcien's slums, Sunburn took off the emblem on his chest plate from the rest of his suit, a spinning cable emerging to connect the two, and began to press on the skull emblazoned on it before speaking.
"Sunburn, reporting."
An energetic high-pitched voice overran by statics answered him.
"Sunburn! Done inspecting that stealing thing? How many guys did you kill this time?"
"Stop speaking as if I went around incinerating everyone I saw."
"So, no one died?"
"No. He was still breathing when I left."
"Ha! Called it!"
He had to suppress a sigh. She was just so... So... Childish. It was no wonder most people didn't realize she was the brain behind the Blood Angels, instead thinking all of the planning was either done by him, which was understandable considering his background though in truth he had no idea on how to run a gang, or Marcus. How anyone thought that lunatic could run anything on his own was the greatest mystery in Zalcien.
"May we focus on the matter at hand?"
"Yeah, yeah. So, was it the Empress?"
"I'm not sure."
"Oh?"
"The men's description matches, they were definitely attacked by a Small Collector, but something doesn't fit."
"What's troubling you?"
"Well, for one, they said its eyes didn't glow. And the fact no one died-"
"Wait, no glowing? That doesn't make sense!"
"I know, I never saw any of these things without it. Even the Knights and their mounts have it!"
"No, you don't understand: the glow isn't just some fancy addition, it is a direct side-effect of the power source. No glow means no alimentation, no power, in other words, it's kaput, broken."
Well, that one was new. He never bothered to learn how these things worked since nothing could directly mess with whatever was powering them up, but knowing that now explained why those that went invisible still had glowing eyes too.
"So someone copied the Empress to fool us?"
"I'm not sure, what did they say it looked like?"
"A silvery mechanical spider the size of a large cat or a small dog, bullets bounced off its plates, it was quick and agile and, once noticed, screeched madly."
"Okay, only the Empress can make such a small robot bullet-proof and agile at the same time around here. So, it's definitely a Small Collector's frame, the question now is 'what's inside?' Shoot, and here I was, glad we finally got an excuse to show miss upity-nobility her place."
"You may be pleased to know we still have a witch hunt planned, someone still tried to trick us, after all."
"You mean, besides whoever's behind that attack?"
"Yes, most of the money we got paid with was fake, copied, worthless."
"Oooh, now THAT's good news. I get to bring out the good ol' cryoguns!"
"You are aware getting scammed is supposed to be negative, correct?"
"Oh, I am VERY mad! So mad, in fact, that I will now begin to look into who gave us that fake money and prepare the 'interrogation' squads. Toodles, Sunburn!"
"Yes, see you at the base, Moonfreeze."
The connection cut, Sunburn placed back the emblem on its usual place before sighing. He couldn't deny that she was good at her job, but really, Moonfreeze always found a way to annoy him somehow - she even ripped off his alias, the nerve of that girl! He always missed Draskia in one way or another, but only she could make him miss the tax on the number of words spoken per day.
He reached into a box hidden beneath one of the seats and had a bottle of classic Draskian alcohol in his hand when he pulled it out: Forgewater. He popped it open before unhitching an opening on his mask, a long bendy straw appearing. He delicately dropped it in his precious Forgewater - the good stuff was nearly impossible to import in this accursed country - before slurping up its delicious, throat-destroying contents - which would probably be lethal to any Coreless in Zalcien.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Still, as he drank his daily dose of alcohol to deal with Moonfreeze's shenanigans, he couldn't fully get this whole heist out of his mind. He had the unnerving, familiar feeling something was about to change. Zalcien's power balance would be rewritten, and he knew better than to hope that the Blood Angels would get their share of the prize - at least, not without a fight.
It's how he got in this state, after all.
----------------------------------------
James listened closely.
It had been fifteen minutes since the tunnel they had dug and its cache had been filled with a strange, loud rumbling noise and he had taken the ratling sisters away to safety, waiting a healthy distance away from the tunnel's entrance.
Oh, the noise had quickly disappeared and nothing had come down the tunnel, but James had seen enough movies where a similar situation occurred to know that getting out as soon as the coast seemed clear was a dumb idea. It's always at this point that people got caught.
And he had been right, whatever it was that had made that noise, after the initial silence, it had begun anew for a short while before stopping once more. Still, nothing came down the tunnel - no toxic gas, no acid wave, no flames. But hey, better wait a little longer than get caught.
The sisters were starting to get a little restless, they didn't like not doing anything for so long. Since the coast seemed clear even after waiting for so long, James agreed to release them and go back to the cache to finish his loot examination, though he had to wait a couple minutes for the sisters to stop running around to exercise their muscles.
It didn't take long to climb back up the tunnel and open the cache and he was ready to finish his task. But, now that he got exposed to stress and wasn't as desperate to feel like he was part of a society, James realized that powering up a phone within a hidden location that he wished to keep hidden was a terrible idea, he would get located faster than oil by the USA.
So, he picked up the phones and the giant cockroach pieces he had left behind in the cache and left. He led the ratlings back home, where he fed the pieces to the rats, David still curled up in a corner and avoiding his gaze, before leaving once more, leaving all of the ratlings behind, to finish testing out the phones he had stolen - away from the nest and their usual hunting grounds.
And so he went, going in a straight line at first then zigzagging in the tunnels, ensuring no one could directly link the area he would be in with the nest. He passed by quite a lot of sewer fauna once more, James was sure he even saw a large scaly mass move beneath the waters at some point. Whether this was his old giant crocodile acquaintance or another reptilian sewage-dweller, he didn't know.
Once he felt he was far enough, James quickly tried powering up the phones again. The first one failed and, when the second one did too, James really hoped he had just been unlucky and had started by the same two ones as in the cache.
The third attempt crushed his hopes, however.
None of the phones worked. If James had to hazard a guess, they probably weren't charged, and down there, he had no chance to fill up their batteries and, despite having those in the cache, compatibility wasn't guaranteed.
So, what did James do whenever there was a problem he didn't know how to fix? Why, try infusing it with shadows of course! Which is exactly what he did. He pocketed two of the phones in a pouch he had just formed in his body before trying his go-to tactic on the third one, already dreading how hard it would be.
James took in a metaphorical deep breath before beginning. First, he transformed the tentacle with which he was holding the phone, ensuring its entire surface was covered. Then, he began to channel in his shadows, purposefully making the process slower than usual to avoid making any mistakes.
First, the shadows spread in the external parts, the easiest to do, the simple things such as the screen and the plastic case. Then, they began to envelop the wires, still simple though numerous and linked to more complex components. Next came complex parts, the mic, the battery - which definitely felt empty now that his shadows got in - the speakers, all things that required focus but were still manageable.
Finally, the hardest part : the actual software, electronic chips and circuits. He had to ensure the darkness flowed correctly, going the right way, not overloading anything, slowly slipping into the various components, he had no way of selecting the tracking part to destroy it since he had no idea what it was but willed his shadows to ensure no one would locate the phone - hey, it didn't cost anything to try.
James had no idea how long it took but, finally, after what felt like hours, he was done infusing the phone - and, despite the fatigue, it filled him with childish glee. It was the first time he ever felt exhausted since becoming a shadowy blob and, at this point, he wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. His form began to slouch and even melt, making it harder to stay composed, and for whatever reason couldn't phase into the shadows like usual.
It probably wasn't related to the fact his mind felt mushy, no. Absolutely not.
So, since legs felt like too much of a bother, he went back to the good old sludge body, only keeping a somewhat humanoid silhouette on the upper body to feel more awake - he was worried he would just sleep on the spot if he let himself fully devolve into a slug-sludge, or was it sludge-slug? Eh, sludge. No, wait. Why was he so focused on this? He really shouldn't bother with these funny words right now, he had places to go!
He began to merrily slither, slide and crawl his way home under the curious gazes of the sewers' fauna - and even a small part of the flora, too! The vines with an eyeball-like fruit were so funny to see move, dancing left and right, it felt almost hypnotic. It drew him away from the reptilian eye watching him with disdain beneath the waters.
Eh, "hypnotic". That's a funny word. Wait, no, focus James. You have to get back home. But it's so faaar.
Hearing himself think woke James up a little and, even in his groggy state, he had the mental focus to form a tentacle to slap himself with.
Focus, James. It's just like delivering pizzas on New Year's Eve! Keep your goal in mind and it'll be fine!
James ignored the funny swaying vines with an eyeball - which, had he looked closely, was not part of the plant but held by it - and the rest of the weird animals wandering in the sewers.
The reptilian eye, still hidden beneath the sewage's surface, went from disgust to appreciation. The black shadowy creature currently stumbling around like it was filled with some kind of poison wasn't as weak as it had seemed. It may even be less stupid than those two-legged things that ran around causing trouble in her territory from time to time.
She was glad to have spared the little thing when she first saw it. Yes, it truly had potential and, from its interactions with the little furballs she had seen it with, may even belong to those entities who like to take care of others. It probably wouldn't challenge her authority too, which was fine. She didn't mind challengers but she was molting right now and her scales were way too itchy to make any kind of fight enjoyable.
She simply watched it go, ignoring the hypnotic sway of the Trickster Vines - she would have to rip some of those off afterward, she didn't like these growing in the most peaceful areas of the sewers. Yes, that funny shadowy thing may provide great entertainment. Plus, she could tell it wanted to cause no harm. It was a prey with a predator's body.
Unseen to James, The Marked left the canal she was hiding in, taking care to follow him on his way home, scaring away all of the most dangerous things lurking in the sewers - it would have been a shame to spare him only for something in her territory to snatch him up afterward, right?
Blind to his crocodilian guardian, James crawled and stumbled on.