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The Pizza Party [Post-Apoc Sci-Fi Superhumans]
Arc 1 Chapter 3 - Black Bones and White Pawns

Arc 1 Chapter 3 - Black Bones and White Pawns

Chapter 3 - Black Bones and White Pawns

Many people tried to challenge Pouria's rule of Soulflare Metropolis while he was ruler, just like they had before him, but even fiercer as time went on. The Wastelands were a lawless place, even in the small townships that dotted its inhospitable land. SFM is the only major city in the Wastelands, and thus, it got to make the laws.

None remember the time when the city was arid and dry, devoid of hustle and bustle at every turn. At one time, long ago in history books, the city was a warzone of disheveled skyscrapers and sandy streets. But now, it is the only place in the Wastelands with progress, cutting edge technology, and an entire self-sustaining environment. Living outside of it is challenging, near impossible, and thus human laze keeps everyone within its walls. Inside it was like an ecosystem, society as it once was, but on a smaller scale. Outside, you either work to provide for Soulflare in farms and quarries, or you kill the people who work to provide for yourself.

Inside however, society remains as it was long, long ago. Laws made that possible, and the strictness with which they were upheld was stifling, all thanks to gangs like The Stormcloud which sought to tear down society for denying them the same luxuries that the ruling class have. The rules were necessary to keep a society together, but most of the society wasn't happy.

Perhaps they would never be.

Even as rain now fell above the city, the nightlife bustled. Massive neon signs flashed advertisements for products that catered to the common man, yet just expensive enough to create a sense of luxury. The streets were packed with traffic, the boiling anger of inferiority causing horns to blare, honked by men and women too poor to have someone drive for them. And despite the traffic, most walked with umbrellas above their heads, save for some who didn't care about getting wet, all feeling grateful deep down that they weren’t in the traffic.

In every direction were sprawling buildings going as far as the horizon. High above, skyscrapers reached for the clouds, some of the tallest belonging to the richest corporations in SFM. Upon their architectural masterpieces of buildings, twisting steel beams, art deco glasswork, dozens of floors, was a logo claiming all of it as their own, marked like a dog pissing on a tree.

Pouria and The Dustman appeared atop a five story tall apartment building in a swirl of purple dust. They were met with a lovely garden terrace, most of the shoddy fixtures looking handmade, all backed by the chaotic, yet completely controlled urban scenery before them. In the distance, they could still faintly see the warehouse, where they were seconds ago, on the edge of the city's border.

"Welcome back to SFM!" The Dustman said with some forced excitement. Pouria felt a tad patronized, but the view from up here, it was nostalgia and confusion incarnate.

Pouria just stared out, speechless. It was just like he'd remembered it… but how?

"I thought that the city would have devolved into anarchy after I was overthrown." he said, mouth slightly agape.

"You are mistaken, Mr. Mayor." The Dustman replied. "The city is in anarchy. You just don't see it from up here, or even down there."

"What does that mean?" Pouria asked, still staring. He tried to focus on just one thing, but all the nostalgia was hitting him at once from two years away from his city, he simply couldn't focus on any one thing.

"This city is a warzone, it’s people living in fear of crime and terrorism. Gangs and syndicates, like your old friends in The Stormcloud, are fighting for territory with their rivals, the streets are less safe than ever. They have started to ally themselves recently, bringing chaos, trying to topple society." said The Dustman. "And your replacement? His work is… terrible, to put it bluntly."

Pouria sighed. "Well, you already know I'm here to fix that."

"I'm aware."

"I've heard you've fallen in with some of the darker forces here."

"Me? Ahhh, no." The Dustman scoffed, giving Pouria a genuine, yet unnerving smile. He didn’t have a normal mouth, though. His skin slightly peeled back from where his mouth should be, revealing bits of his hidden, jagged teeth, forming into something like a smile. "However, I do understand the distrust, given what you have seen of me, Mr. Mayor."

Pouria's trust had faded overtime, to the point that now, even old friends were looking like enemies. The Dustman, or as he used to be informally referred to by Pouria, 'Dusty', was never really a friend, but he was all that Pouria had right now…

But he intended to change that.

Pouria sighed, looking back over the city with a longing gaze. He knew a person that would help him, one person he knew couldn't have been twisted by the darkness at the heart of the city.

"Do you remember Dr. Phantom?" Pouria asked Dusty.

"He quit his job with Blue and went into a small operation with two investors. He wanted his work to be his own for whatever reason.” Dusty explained. “But after that, he vanished off the map. Nobody has heard from him since, not at least publicly.”

“Then you can just get me in contact with his investors. They might know.”

“The main investor currently has a seat in the Crystal Canopy. You will not be able to meet with her without getting arrested.” Dusty said. “But, the other one…”

"I'd like to meet them, please." Pouria asked without hesitation.

“It will be difficult. He’s not a big fan of you or your work. Though, to be fair, he’s not a fan of any government officials, really. Hmm…”

Dusty seemed to ponder it for a moment, putting a hand to his chin. Finally, he spoke. "I have an idea. But, you’ll be doing the heavy lifting here.”

“I didn’t come back here for an easy experience.” Pouria said.

“I can set you up to intercept him at one of his usual hangout spots." Dusty explained, going into a different, more airy tone. "Him and I are good friends, and I want it to stay that way, so I cannot give you much more than a location and some basic info about him. You'll have to construct your own plan on getting him to talk about Kaino."

"Oh, I won't have any problems with that. All I need is the tip off."

"Ask and you shall receive, Mr. Mayor."

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The Dustman left Pouria with a note, containing a location written in beautiful cursive, with black ink. The Smokehouse was a location that Pouria knew well, having gone there several times before during his reign.

Some could call it a bar, but those with more information knew it as an underground gambling hub. Pouria went for both sinful attractions, always with a friend or a secret protection detail, and not without a disguise.

Today had to be different. Dusty didn't wish to get into problems with his friend, and Pouria had nobody else to rely on. He had to put full faith in his disguise. He probably couldn’t wear a ski-mask inside the bar without looking like he was about to shoot it up, but his scarf bandana made some sense in the nippy weather. That, some grown out hair, and a new beard were the only things that would keep Pouria anonymous when he went inside.

But he feared, if Thunder saw through it, anyone could.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The streets were not Pouria's friends either. As he walked through the rain, he kept his head low and his eyes off of other people. He felt like he was being watched, and it was nerve wracking. Every moment he felt like he would hear a voice, he thought they were talking to him. He wondered if they were taking photos, sending them to their friends, and reporting his return to news sites.

His eyes sometimes flicked up to the massive billboards, checking to see if he was on them. He was only met with the faces of advertisers and the political elite that he once conversed with daily.

They'd replaced a couple it seemed, the ones that didn't bend with bribery, but he still knew most of them, and their smiles, their eyes, and their once-friendly faces now only unnerved him. Like people he had met, now turned into monsters.

Pouria's paranoia followed him down the streets, walking several blocks until his clothes were soaked with rain and his feet were sore. He heard the violence all around him; in the cars with blaring horns as accidents nearly occurred, in the alleys with the thuggish men beating and robbing the poor and meek. The buildings began to look like bleak slabs of concrete with which criminals could plot their crimes inside.

Across the street from him as he crossed a crosswalk, he saw masked men holding up a car dealership at gunpoint. The hero in him wanted to stop the act of chaos, but he couldn't risk blowing his cover. He watched from a distance in horror as they shot the woman at the desk and grabbed the keys to a luxury supercar, driving it away without a care in their rotten hearts. The people outside looked at the act with disgust, but didn’t move a muscle to stop the thieves.

He knew then and there that the city wasn't just silently corrupted, it was also right there, right in front of him. These gangs were dismantling it, and society along with it.

He knew Kaino wouldn’t have stood for any of this.

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Several Years Ago…

Kaino liked Pouria’s office at the top floor of the Crystal Canopy. It was quiet, secluded, and Pouria even gave his two most trusted friends the key to go inside just to peek at his work. While Penove didn’t use this permission much, often gone for weeks on end on various business trips to other areas of the city, Kaino was more than happy to snoop on Pouria's plans for the city.

“You keep glancing at that document.” Pouria noted, castling his rook in response to Kaino’s assault with his bishop. “It’s not that interesting. Just the research notes from Blue.”

“Research notes are the knowledge of a scientist’s work in physical form. ‘Not that interesting’ is a cruel understatement to his company’s work.” Kaino said, moving up his bishop, relentlessly keeping Pouria’s King in check. “Imagine the proud scientist hearing his dreams getting crushed.”

“Ah yeah, you are right.” Pouria said, looking Kaino in the eye before returning his thoughtful gaze to the board. “You can take it if you want. I already read it and made a copy.”

“Soulflares are still so fascinating to me.” Kaino said, immediately snatching the paper and engrossing himself. He fell silent for around five minutes as Pouria eventually turned to his desktop to finish work, both of them knowing that Kaino’s nerdish obsession meant their game had to pause. When Kaino finally got to the end of the paper, Pouria was now the one engrossed in his own work, so the doctor chose not to interfere, keeping to himself as he scanned the board in front of him. After a moment, he realized his next possible moves. Four pieces were able to attack the King, and it was only a matter of time before he boxed it in and delivered a clean checkmate.

Pouria looked back. “Oh, sorry, I was just reading about the crime rates,” he said. “This city is going to shit, Kaino.”

A heavy sigh and two hands over his eyes was a clear symbol of Pouria’s distress. Kaino wasn’t a man with many emotions himself, but other people’s feelings came easily to him the more he focused on them. But the distress wasn’t all he felt. All that pressure placed on Pouria since he became Mayor, all the guilt that he couldn’t do more and save every lost life, all the uncomfort that he had when he walked outside the Canopy. Kaino knew it, felt it, despite how his coldness externalized it, his knowledge of feelings and emotions were often cruelly overshadowed by his scientific skills.

Kaino believed in his leadership, but he knew from the past year that leadership wasn’t easy when you were this high up. He felt comfortable when he only worked for Blueberry Corporation as the leading expert in chemistry and biology, making various medicines as his awards lining his lab walls attested to. But there, leadership was something that only happened when a big project came up, and with his intellect in the field, they were handled with haste and order.

Pouria was not versed in leadership beyond what he’d studied. This was the first job he’d ever held for over a month, and both men knew that he was out of his depth. It would only be a matter of time before the city got restless again, and they would share a similar fate to the last ruler.

He peered up at the massive curtain blocking the two story tall window behind Pouria. It had a certain gothic vibe to it, despite the room clearly being modern and sleek with a lot of whites, blacks, and steel tones. The room didn’t have much life before they’d added their own furnishings, as Pouria began to get antsy in the sterileness of the original room, to the point that it affected his productivity. One day, he barged in and demanded that the room be redecorated. Kaino couldn’t tell if it was the stress getting to him, or just his crazy idea, but something about it felt odd, like the office was changing him.

“Want some light in here?” Kaino asked.

His words quickly got Pouria’s attention. “No.” Pouria replied with a sharp tone.

“Alright then.” Kaino said, lifting his hands lightly in casual surrender. “Your move, Mr. Mayor.”

“You don’t need to keep calling me that.” Pouria replied, moving his Rook back towards the King to block the Bishop’s attack, leaving him wide open to four different lines of assault.

Hastily, Kaino chose to move his Queen into position to attack the King, causing him to have only one space to move to. His bishop waited in the sidelines, ready to pounce and pin him to a corner so the Queen could deliver a fatal blow.

However, Pouria blocked with his Rook, and now Kaino’s Queen was forced to back off, or kill herself by taking the Rook. Kaino chose the former.

But the Rook moved forward, pinning Kaino’s King, the Rook defended by Pouria’s Pawns. Overwhelmed by force immediately, surprisingly, and with a sharper play. Kaino moved his Queen to defend the King, his only move, the King trapped by his own pieces, assisted by Pouria’s Knight.

All of Pouria’s pieces working together brought down an assault that only took one move from the Rook to kill the Queen, trap the King, and deliver Checkmate.

“Nice work.” Kaino said, internally a little miffed that his plan didn’t work out. Pouria’s planning was never his strong suit either, but Kaino knew that Pouria was getting better at planning thanks to his guidance, and seeing it manifested here brought a smile to his face.

“Well played.” Pouria complimented. “You acted too hastily, though. Should’ve been a bit more patient.”

Kaino knew. He didn’t need his friend to remind him. His smile quickly faded as he nodded in understanding. “Good game anyway.” he said. “Now, I need to look into these papers. The method they detail could allow for Soulflare transfusion, you know?”

“I don’t really know what that is, but you seem jazzed about it, so I won’t stop you.” Pouria said, pressing the button on his desk that automatically opens the massive steel doors at the entrance to his office. They were showy, from some past ruler’s installations, and incidentally too heavy to budge with the force of a single man. Thusly, they had to be button operated.

“Oh, and hey, don’t get too stressed about that crime stuff.” Kaino Phantom replied, standing up. “Focus on your main goals. You can’t be every police officer, defense drone, and CRYO soldier in the city. Just relax, and do your part. That’s all you can do.”

“Thanks Doc. Helps to hear it.”

Kaino walked out of the doors as they closed behind him with a *clunk*. As he stood in the reception, taking a glance at the empty secretary’s desk, he heard a voice from the room he’d just left. And it wasn’t Pouria’s.

Pouria spoke back in a dismissed tone, as downtrodden as he was before about the crimes. The words were muffled, but their meaning was rather clear. ‘Get out’.

He wrote it off as him receiving a guest through the other side door that his staff usually came through. But he did find it odd that he was getting guests on a weekend.

Kaino walked downstairs to his lab, with the paper in his hand, about to make a massive breakthrough.