Chapter 13 An Administrator

In the stone halls of the Unwanted’s base, Mercy’s footsteps echoed down an empty path, his hands placed behind him with his shoulders back. At the end of the hallway, there was a simple metal door. No signs were attached to this area and not a soul was nearby. Once he arrived at it, he cleared his throat and relaxed his already relaxed self, then stiffening up. He already knew what was coming, or so he thought.

As soon as he entered, his attention was drawn to a bleak desk and chair illuminated by a spotlight. Beyond it was darkness, and even with Mercy’s excellent perception, he could not tell if anyone else was present.

“Please sit, Mercy,” a familiar voice requested. In the darkness in front of him, a second light switched on, revealing Adminstrator Speaker, her face clad with a misted skull.

“Thank you, Administrator Speaker,” Mercy replied, taking a seat.

“This meeting today is of the highest priority,” Administrator Speaker told him. “Elder Baron has been relieved of his position as Head Elder of the New London base.”

“May I ask why, Administrator Speaker?”

“Incompetence,” Administrator Speaker answered quickly in a harsh tone. “Please do not think the job is yours, Mercy. I have no doubt you believe it is.”

“You have read my mind, Administrator Speaker,” Mercy acknowledged, keeping his upright posture.

“However, as of today, and in light of the recent attacks, you will be acting as temporary Head Elder of the New London base. Your dedication and hard work are up to par, but, I and the Administrators feel you are lacking in combatant power.”

Mercy nodded his head.

“That was an open-ended statement, Mercy,” Administrator Speaker told him.

“My apologies, Administrator Speaker. Why do you think that?”

“Your last combatant mission was during the Bugs Nest fiasco over two years ago. Even then, you were ranked as the second lowest among the Elders. Despite this, you have risen in your position as an Elder through admin, planning, foresight and risk-taking—very valuable and admirable skills. Regardless of that, as Head Elder, no one should come close to reaching you in terms of combatant power. You are the strongest—a god to the Fodders, and a role model to your fellow Elders and Guardians.”

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“I understand, Administrator Speaker. I will gladly accept the temporary position as Head Elder until you find a replacement. In the meantime, I shall work on body conditioning and will hire a Bonemancy tutor.”

“Training is useless if there is no practical element, Mercy, perhaps it may be beneficial to take up some jobs. But, I understand you want this position more than anyone and you will do anything to reach it … But be warned, Mercy, those who strive for power are the ones least deserving of it.”

“I understand, Administrator Speaker,” he replied, clearing his throat.

“Since you are now acting Head Elder,” Administrator Speaker said, “there is information that is available to you that only we know about. But firstly, I would like you to meet the rest of the Administrators who are present in New London. You may learn their aliases later on.”

In the darkness next to Speaker, four more figures appeared in dark robes, each sporting a misted skull on their faces, each fragmented differently. Mercy couldn’t sense any of them—a testament to their position. In the semi-circle they formed, there seemed to be twelve seats, and the central one, next to Administrator Speaker, was empty.

The Administrators orchestrated the entirety of the Unwanted across cities and countries. They were the organs and skeletal system of the organisation, with their subordinates being the veins, muscles and blood. Every single one of them could make him disappear from the face of Lum-Terra with no more than a few words.

Administrator Speaker was different from the rest—she was the figurehead, and almost all Unwanted in New London had seen her walking the halls. None dared to approach her except the curios and brave few. Mercy always wondered why the other Administrators never revealed themselves, but hopefully in time, he would receive an answer.

Regardless of their imposing ranks, Mercy remained calm and collected. He had dealt with his fair share of powerful people before.

“Administrators,” he announced, bowing his head in respect.

None of them returned a greeting, remaining stationary, gazing at him through their mist of fragmented skulls. Instead of a reply, a folder flashed onto the desk in a brilliant purple light.

“What is this, Administrators?” Mercy asked them collectively.

None of them spoke again.

Mercy’s eyes drifted down to the folder which was labelled as ‘//Esoteric/HeadElders/Administrators//Classification/Unknown-X17//Severity/Cataclysmic//AKA/Stone of Discordia//’

“I would suggest that you sit down, Mercy,” Administrator Speaker offered.