“Power. You either have it or don’t, but you never get it until you do. What a strange way to decide the hierarchy we live under.”
–Hades, “Some Philosophical Shit”. 4 Years After.
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Heavy lay the burdens of civilization.
Leah sat cross-legged atop her throne as she waited for the others in the Council to arrive. Like the rest of Elysium, much of the throne’s design still lingered from years gone, with the seat’s fabric the color of blood and the supports carved into the shapes of skulls and bones. Stone gargoyles sat to either side, staring down audience members with an unmatched fury. Spikes spilled from the walls where there weren’t crimson banners, now decorated in the canine skull and crossbones symbol for the Hunters. A reminder of the power that this seat commanded.
There was once a time when Leah had been the one who entered as a guest into this room, back during the era of Hades when he called upon her for some inane reason or other. She was one of the few who’d been around during its construction and had gotten over the mind games after years of playing the back and forth with him. To her, it had been no more than just another seat that she sometimes looked up to.
Until she sat in it for herself.
Where are they? Leah wondered as she ran her gloved fingers along the rim of a gargoyle. She preferred her estate at the top of the Lodge and seldom came out to Elysium unless it was for official business. Being here filled her with a sense of wrongness. Even though Hades died off years ago, the memory of his presence still burned hot for many.
Leah had at least cleared and filled in the pit of hollows that he used to keep in the middle of this room, replacing it with a set of chairs and tables that could be used whenever these meetings were formed.
The door opened, and the first of her guests arrived.
“Apologies for the delay, my Lady,” Sinclair said as he strolled through the door. “My last meeting ran longer than intended.”
You can say that again. Sinclair had gone all out today. His silver three-piece suit had a vibrant sheen, matched only by the glitter in his tie. His skin smoothed out, and his blonde hair was freshly oiled. Toss in the added cosmetics, and he almost looked like a living human. That was his shtick, anyway. As the defacto “Boss of Bosses,” he was perhaps the only one in Pandemonium wealthier than Leah. Or would be, if she couldn’t just take his riches with a wave of her hand.
Stein came next, his lab coat still dirty with the blood of his patients beneath his dark hair and sallow cheeks. With its previous owner dead, Mother’s Grace had been one of the first to get ransacked during the infighting that followed. Everyone knew just how many resources she’d hoarded for personal redistribution over the years, and her people’s loyalty only went so far without her. But then Stein had managed to rally everyone back together, clinging to the memory and values that had been left behind. Though he was no Mother, Stein was an expert physician who had filled the void she’d left behind. Now, most of the city looked up to him as they had for her.
“Those goddamned lines…” echoed down the hall as Fran rolled into view.
Man, did Leah gain a certain low satisfaction in forcing Fran, the Head Librarian, to come all the way over here. Her white hair was tied back, and her skin was wrinkled to no end, but it was always locked in a scowl whenever she arrived. She hated leaving her precious library, and Leah loved forcing her to do shit she hated, especially after so many years of jumping through her insane hoops just to get a book she liked.
Charon entered last. He came in silently, his lidless eyes dull and empty beneath his blackened hood. Leah remained convinced that he was secretly immune to the Hollowing, drawing strength for his Rez from the Styx itself. The guy never left his guard post unless forced, and never looked the least bit bothered, even if barely ate or read. Yet the second Leah made him come to these meetings, he’d have this glaze over his eyes like he was about to hollow out for good.
Everyone shuffled into their seats, with Leah towering above on her throne. Just like that, the Council of Pandemonium was formed.
“Took you fuckers long enough today,” Leah said. “Well, no use dragging this out. Out with the reports.”
Fran tapped her glasses in place and shuffled through her notes. “As per the monthly economic report… We’ve seen a continued uptick in demand for romance novels, decreasing general stock by 12.8% as a result, compared with a 9.7% decrease last month. I’ve bumped up the rarity tier for half the remaining units. Science fiction is also down another 2.8%, which is mostly consistent with the 3.2% decrease we experienced last month. There was a surplus in fantasy by about 8.2%, but most of the units were identical. My understanding is that they came from the same Hunt.”
Leah nodded. “Yep. Turns out that Kinkaid found them on a run. Apparently, there was some college event where they’d planned to distribute thousands of copies of The Hobbit before the Hollowing.”
“Either way,” Fran continued. “I’m still keeping fantasy at an inflated rate. It isn’teasy to see where the values will stabilize until next month’s numbers are compiled. As for non-fiction, technical booksare on the rise…”
Fran continued to move through the economic report from there. As the Head Librarian, she had charged herself with regulating the supply of books coming in and out of Pandemonium’s economy. Back in the day, Hades simply left her to her own devices until a crisis arose, but Leah had been trying to be more forward-thinking. She wasn’t about to get blindsided with a riot springing up because the Central Bank ran out of horror novels.
Fran turned the page on her notes. “We’ve also been hemorrhaging value by scrubbing the banned text that keepscoming in.”
“Right,” Leah said. “You mentioned that last I was down there. What’s been going on?”
“Books of a religious nature are being traded among workers in Tartarus, and it has been spreading throughout the greater economy, eventually coming back to the Bank. We must trade them in for a greater price to ensure they can’t remain in circulation, though it’s hard to say how many are out there. The author appears to havemade modifications to the text.”
Leah raised an eyebrow. “Modifications?”
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“Subtle changes to how sentences are phrased or structured. The overall content remains the same as the original work, but the framing has been altered enough so our system can’t automatically pick it up anymore.”
“Sounds like a lot of work went into this scam. Remind me again why these books are banned?”
Fran tilted her head. “Couldn’t give you the reason. I just know that Hades insisted on it, and if I recall correctly, Mother also agreed. So unless you want me to change that rule…”
“No. Let’s not fuck around with shit that’s been working until now. This does beg the question of where these religious books keep coming from, though.”
She grunted. “Someone’s got a printing press out there. I’d bet a thousand books on it.”
“And they’ve made changes to the text, so it’s harder for your people to spot,” Leah filled in. “Well, the fun times won’t last forever once I get a holdof that press. This shouldn’t be costing us so much though. How the hell do we keep running low across the board? I thought you rigged the system so that can’t happen.”
Fran shrugged. “There’s only so much I can do to regulate rates for the general public, and the main drain continues to come from Municipality.”
“So, looks like my next grievance is with youthen, Sinclair.” She crossed one leg to another. “You’ve burned a hole in the Bank, yet every time I walk through Tartarus, the buildings are still as cracked and dirty as always. Where have all my books been going?”
He smiled wide, hands clasped. “My Lady, let me first thank you for your wise and powerful leadersh–”
“No, no,” Leah cut in. “We’re not doing that. When I appointed you as a Councilor, Sinclair, it wasn’t to have direct access to lick my boots. You’d better have a good fucking reason for why reconstruction is taking this long, or I’ll find someone else who can do it faster and for cheaper.”
His smile didn’t budge. “Our industrial needs have unfortunately been hitting a post-Hollowing wall of sorts. Many of the equipment we rely upon have been in service for well over a decade, and their parts can only last for so long without replacements. The other bosses and I have been doing what we can.”
“So throw out contracts for the missing pieces. Same deal as always.”
“We have, but as you know, there are not as many Hunters as there used to be, so we’re forced to raise bounties to entice those who remain. This still takes time, which has slowed reconstruction. Unless someone can conjure up thousands of extra workers willing to do the labor for free, there is little else to be done.”
Leah considered the obstacle. “Obviously, the latter can’t happen, so we need more Hunts going instead.” She turned over to Charon. “How we looking on that front?”
“I count another twelve that we’re down this past month,” he said. “Four were confirmed as killed by members of their crews, but the other eight have gone missing altogether. I suppose it’s better than the twenty we lost the month before.”
“Who did we lose this time?”
“Can’t remember the names of the dead ones, but the eight came from Declan and his crew.”
“You’re telling me that a Hunter as experienced as Declan got killed out there?”
“Died or went bandit. I got a report from Seaside about crates of fresh fish getting stolen, and it sounds like they were in the area at the time.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you shitting me? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me before, Charon?”
“Just found out today.”
Leah buried her face in her palm. “Send a patrol out there to investigate the area, but keep them in range of the outpost. If Declan’s taken up the bandit life, it’s going to be a bitch to root him out.”
“Understood.”
She turned to Stein. “At least tell me that you’ve got good news.”
He grimaced. “Hollowing’s been ticking up as well. We’ve had fifteen new admissions to the rehabilitation center in just the last week.”
“I thought the distros were holding strong, even after I raised the cap.”
“They are. I think the crisis we’re experiencing is psychological, not physical. There’s been an increase in patients with signs of depression and PTSD, and these conditions only accelerate the rate of hollowing. Couple that with the greater usage of Elysium’s Sins in Tartarus, and what was once a manageable drug obsession is quickly becoming a rehollowing epidemic.”
This day just gets better and better. “Any ideas on how to head this off?”
He furrowed his brow. “As I’ve said before, the best thing we could ever do for this city is to ban the Sins.”
Leah stared back. “And as I’ve told you, that’s not happening. I start telling people they can’t pop a cap of Pride after a long week’s shift, and you might as well drop a nuke on this city. Forget about a riot or civil war. That level of unrest would make everything else look like a picnic.” She considered alternatives. “The best I can do is to raise the cover charge for Elysium another fifty pics and crack down on the illegal drug rings outside. That’d help raise income for everything else anyway, and I’m sure Dwayne will have no problem clearing them out with his guys.”
Stein frowned. “I suppose that’ll help.”
“Your point’s been taken though. All of you. The moral of the story is that we’ve been working everyone too hard and stagnating too much, and at the end of the day, we’re not Hunting enough. Pandemonium only has so many resources inside its bubble. Without scouring the old world for the shit we can’t make ourselves, we’ll keep being hamstrung. So, as the Head Huntress of this city, it’ll be my job to rectify this problem.” Leah breathed deep. “Looks like I’ve been sitting on my ass for too long. The next Hunt will be mine, and I don’t want to hear any bullshit from the rest of you about needing me here to keep the peace. Understood?”
They all nodded.
“Good. Now, onto the real reason I’ve brought you here today. You have undoubtedly heard about what happened at the gates a couple days back, and I’m sure there’s been no shortage of rumors flying around. Don’t even try to deny it or play dumb either. I know that all of you have at least heard the bare minimum.”
The rest of the Council looked among themselves, trying to avoid her glare.
Sinclair cleared his throat. “Dare I ask… Is there any truth to this gossip?”
“Yes,” Leah answered without hesitation. “A family of living humans arrived at the Styx with one of our trucks. They’re now here, in Pandemonium, under my protection.”
No going back now. Leah had been toying with whether she’d reveal this to the Council for days, ever since that first moment when she looked into Liam’s eyes. She’d done well to slow things down, but as much as she hated to admit it, the longer they stayed here, the more difficult it would be to contain their presence, and she would need the support of the others to make sure this remained clean.
Leah looked each of the Councilors in the eyes. “To answer your questions… No, you can’t see them. And no, I won’t tell you what I plan to do with them. What I will tell you is that they are here, and I want this pocket of information to be as small as possible. So here’s how it’s going to be: the first person in this room to crack gets Hunted. No exceptions. I don’t care how connected you think you are. In fact, let’s have a nice demonstration so there’s no mistaking me.”
She left her throne and grabbed the bag she’d stashed behind, a nice burlap sack tied tight. With a quick toss of her hand, the bag flew open, and the contents spilled free. The Councilors recoiled as a trio of severed heads rolled across the table, their brains conspicuously carved out.
“See these guys?” Leah asked, her voice deep. “I gave them the same fucking deal. Keep quiet or die. But it turned out that the gossip was too juicy.” She marched back to the throne, sat down, and crossed her legs again. “I don’t need to tell you how good I am at Hunting my enemies, so trust me when I say that if you cross me over this, you’ll end up at the top of the fucking list. Is that understood?”
She let the silence linger while the Councilors studied the severed heads on the table. The moment wore on, but none of them budged.
Leah smiled below her scarf. “Let me ask again. Is that understood?”
“Yes,” they all answered, almost in unison.
“Good. Then there are no misunderstandings and no ambiguity. This secret stays in this room, and if any of you catch it outside here, then I know you’ll do your due diligence and report back to me.” She leaned back. “I believe that’s everything for today. As the Head Huntress, Lady Leah, I hereby conclude this session of the Council of Pandemonium.
“You can all go and fuck off now.”