Fantasy DSSSE - In Character

>> Chapter 01 - Heat-Hazed Days <<

Even thirteen years later, New York City still endures the tragic ripples made by the world-changing Afterlight.

When disaster struck all across the world, the city became the center for hope. But that naïve hope wouldn’t last much long. Reality was far crueler than any retelling could possibly hope to capture.

When New York City faced the greatest immigration crisis of its lifetime, the city needed to adapt or be swallowed whole. And so it embraced change. A great metamorphosis took place in this late decade.

If someone took a picture of the city before the global catastrophe, and compared it now, they would think the two versions were two separate cities entirely.

Only the Statue of Liberty still stands from the old era.

Though it would be hard now to find the rusted, unkempt old landmark, as it is nestled abandoned between the towering oceanic walls that shield the harbor and bayside from the environmental sludge from the Atlantic Ocean. Great waves of black ooze, a vile memorial of what was lost across the world, a polluted concoction of oil, refuse, and debris hammer against the coastal barriers, threatening to invade into the bay and poison the clean waters. Relatively speaking, of course. If it can still even be considered a bay. Long Island itself looked like it somehow doubled in diameter near the western end. The bustling seastandings that make up the entirely new ‘New Harbor’ district now connect Brooklyn physically with Staten Island, and the main landmass. And it is still rapidly expanding. Construction projects are ever present in the man-made straits as fleets tow metal and iron to erect more platform sections in the shrinking bay. In a few more years, people would probably forget there was originally an old shoreline to begin with.

The once upstanding and refined Manhattan sector has long been forced to become a part of its poor urban neighbors, the Bronx and Queens boroughs, who are all now conjoined into one supermassive metropolitan mass. Retaining its reputation as one of the world’s most diverse cultural melting pots, the assembly of the previously divided three boroughs now looks more like an over bloated husk of towers and spires. In the face of the -Entity- that rose thirteen years ago during all the chaos of the Afterlight, in an infamous event known as Blooming Blue, the explosive monster of fear and hatred nearly destroyed the entire island. Left with barely any of the old city remaining, in order to house the overwhelming sea of immigrants, New York City had no choice but to make use of the vast estate right above their heads. And this trend continues forward, probably more prevalent than ever, as the grand landscape of mashed skyscrapers get expanded and become more hulking each passing day. A symbol of stubborn prosperity in the most damning of moments.

But despite all the disaster and changes, humanity paved on without pause.
Though the pain of these tragedies continue to linger in the hearts of the survivors, New York City once again stands as a symbol of hope.

The Agency of Civil Contractors vowed to make sure of this.


"Too little money…. I'll pass.”

The smokescreen from a cigarette practically covered the short blonde woman as -Cliff lazily leaned back on the railing of her rickety balcony. The thin iron bar was the only thing stopping her from plummeting twenty or so odd stories to a quick death on the pavement below. But she didn't seem to mind the chilling breeze that crept up her back. It was early in the morning in the Bronx, and already the undercity was in an uproar. Across from her, in the overpass overlooking the apartment, the glimmering of red and white car lights flowed like a glowing river through the dark. The morning traffic of first shift was truly terrifying to anyone unaccustomed to the thunderous noise. The cacophony of honking and shouting and general irritable buzz was the most classic anthem in all of New York. It pervaded the streets below and echoed far above to where she was. It did better than any old alarm.

There is a saying about New York by onlookers abroad;
‘The City that Never Sleeps -- The rowdiness of the people of New York must be what wakes the sun up in the morning'.

Even now, the weary yellow star struggled to peak over the horizon of skyscrapers.

-Cliff was wearing her universal uniform for all things. Sleeping, going to the office, screaming at one’s obnoxious neighbor, a black tank top and shorts could never go wrong for any occasion.

Right now, she was having an equivalent to another’s morning coffee. Her baggy pale eyes glimmered at the postings listed on the phone screen that hung above in her hand like a droopy lamp-head. She maintained a steady air of boredom and disinterest as another billow of smoke filled the space around her.

A calloused pointing finger glided across what looked to be a map, with color-coded dots appearing and changing constantly. Mostly blue. This particular app was the lifeline of private contractors in New York City. Though every major city had some equivalent. The CACB, the Classified Advertisement Contract Board, or the 'Contract Board' in layman terms, serves as a mobile listings platform. A digital equivalent to the physical board found at the CC Agency building itself. For such a densely populated city, the NYACC figured they could kill two birds at once by having an app act as an alert system accessible by any verified third-parties. From news networks and police dispatch channels, to even as down to the ground as an everyday citizen, it allowed for eyes everywhere. The NYACC then filters the reports and provides listings available to all licensed contractors real-time, so that anyone nearby could respond in a pinch.

Keeps the private sector busy with work. And it keeps the public feeling like help was just a few moments away in disaster. It was a nifty, convenient idea.

See? Once in a while, a section of the government can do something right.
Though, they purposefully made it stressful. To promote competition, or something along those lines.

The listings are slot based, but also first-come. Depending on the group size requested, one can tap and notify the public channel that they are interested, taking up a slot. But one shouldn’t do so carelessly. Locking up a slot is seen as a contractor accepting a contract with their client. If a contractor expresses interest, but fails to show up in action, they will get heavily penalized by the NYACC and their reputation soiled.

Some even have their license revoked.
This negligence ruling also swings in favor for contractors as well, to make their job easier. If any party files an EE report, once the job is completed, said party cannot back out of payment. And if it is discovered to be some sort of joke report, or false report, the perpetrator will be face with some serious civil recourse.

-Cliff inhaled the smoke like it was fresh air, while she shifted through the listings absently.

“Contractor wanted for entertainment at a house party tonight in the Bronx… Bring magic tricks?” she scoffed, shifting her shoulder to a new position on the railing, “Hah. Only if you want a horror show. A disaster waitin' to happen. Wot is this, one of those gender reveal parties I 'ear so much about? Pays pretty good though...”

-Cliff rolled her eyes and took another drab of the cigarette, practically turning it into a crisp nub in but a single inhale.

“Ugh. I despise crowds…" she then tossed her head back and forth in thought.
"Fuck. But aren’t I still behind on rent again? Hm. But if I down a couple of drinks, maybe I'll be able to tolerate it...”

Gazing once, her finger hovered over the confirmation button. After a moment of holding this indecisive position, -Cliff let out an annoyed groan, turning the phone off and tossing it at one of the haphazardly placed lounging chairs behind her. The woman then swung her body up, resting her chest against the iron railing as she sat on the ledge. She dangled her feet between the gap of the railing and looked down at the lights glimmering below.

Her messy blond hair drooled off her shoulder over the blooming cityscape, much like the leaking pipe hanging out from the building above. The strong breeze felt nice. Like she was floating and being carried in the wind. Moments like this, this damp, stuffy city didn't feel so much like a cage. -Cliff then turned her head idly upwards, her eyes gazing through the swirling smoke, watching as the sunlight began to shine through the fading gray haze. How thoughtful. It gave her perfect line of sight, granting her the pleasure of seeing the wonderfully delightful sight of the greater gray haze that was the overhanging smog.

Though, she can’t be critical of it too much. She probably contributed a fair bit to the disgusting air pollution.

“Eh, damned if you do. Damned if you don’t. City is too boring today. Maybe I'll just stay in...”

Just when she stuck another cigarette into her mouth, her phone began to buzz and rumble, flickering to light with an alert.
Suddenly, an alert brought her attention back onto the balcony. She swung back onto the flooring, grabbing her blinking phone from the cushions. There was an orange dot on the map near her area. This meant a priority listing.


>> Eclipse Entity Sighting -Recon Threat.

Unidentified Bird-like Entity sighted near the Bronx River. Location is attached. Two known casualties, and a child has been abducted by the creature. The EE has taken the hostage into a nearby construction site, which has since been evacuated. Police are on standby, requesting back-up.


Then, just as she finished reading the first posting, another orange plip appeared on her map. This time in the Manhattan area.


>> Eclipse Entity Sighting -Proximity Threat

Urgent!!! Any available Contractors wanted.

High School under attack by sudden appearance of unidentified canine-like Entity. Incredibly Violent. Attached is location along with video footage of the creature caught by one of the students during evacuation. Unknown number of casualties. Has already caved a few classrooms in the main building.

Her expression finally showed a bit of interest. -Cliff returned the smoke stick back to the box with a light smirk.
“Hoho, spoiled for choice today aren't I?" she said, stretching her arms overhead and twisting her back until it let out a series of loud cracks.
“A bit of a high intensity morning work-out, but eh, I shouldn't be complaining. I've been lazing around too long these days. Now, let's see if I can hit both before I gotta show up to work...”

...

The meeting room was thick with tension as the Civil Contractors scrambled to get tardy attendees in place. For the Captain's apology, a reply came: "I understand your concern. I hope this is not a forecast of things to come on this mission." The monotone, achromatic man and the source of the voice had a similarly stiff posture. His overcoat sat draped over his chair, while his gloved hands rested folded on the conference table.


"While we wait," Negative added, "I must commend your swift preparations. It was a surprise when I saw my jet would have an escort." Despite the seeming praise, his tone was nigh robotic, devoid of even a definite accent. It made him difficult to read--perhaps a benefit, but more likely a curse.

Ion sat in wait, mulling over a large white book, the binding and cover of which had been ripped to shreds. He sat in a hunched position, his head pointed downwards in its entirety and his body blocking those who would wish to invade his privacy. He couldn't care if they did, it mattered not but he despised the feeling of being watched. For this very reason, he hesitated to continue a journey that would take him to a city he loathed. Even before the Afterlight, Ion would proudly say he never quite liked New York City. It's monolithic towers of metal and stone acting as various panopticons, all looking down on those beneath them. Both figuratively and literally. Visits in the past warranted nothing but disgust from Ion, he saw the city for what it truly was: a prison. The homeless were scattered across the streets. Those brave enough to drive were locked in constant traffic, horns and motors blowing out of the ears of those who decided to walk.

The Afterlight didn't do the city any favors. The towers came crashing down and human resilience brought them back up. They were no longer beautifully constructed pieces of architecture, showing the qualities of their respective designer. Instead, they were hulking masses of all different types of metal and glass. Shapes weren't a constraint for these structures, they billowed out in different varieties. They stood like beacons, physical manifestations of the strength that humanity had. Yet so, Ion could imagine them toppling down like they once had. He drew parallels to New York with the Tower of Babel. A city with a large ziggurat whose purpose was to reach the heavens and achieve fame for all. God, in whatever wisdom He had; decided to knock it down like a child in a tantrum. Why did God destroy the Tower of Babel? Why does God do anything?

His attention returned back to his book, the realization that he hadn't even read a single word dawned over him. For the past 2 minutes, he'd been locked in a thoughtful state. Ion's eyes scanned the page once more, inspecting each picture, caption, and paragraph. All in an effort to find the line he had left behind while his mind rambled. A few seconds passed before he finally found it, a line describing the internal systems of a snake. Ion found these creatures to be fascinating. They represented danger and elicited caution whenever seen. Both for what they were physically capable of and what they meant symbolically. The book made mention of this, each caption containing a different metaphorical idea of snakes. To him, however, it was all supplementary to the main theme of the book. It was educational but he needn't be ladened with knowledge of symbols but hard science at least he couldn't be at this present moment.

Ion's environment was less than satisfactory. He had been dragged into a meeting by the NYACC for reasons most unspecified. It hardly bothered him, it served more as a place of peace. Far from the cacophony of noises on the streets and the piercing hum of neon lights. Better here than there, he reasoned. The contractor dared not to speak up nor look at any around him, he knew for the same reasons he might find this tranquility calming; others may find it a drag and hostile. Regardless of this, his attention squared back onto the book. Yet again, he had lost his place and allowed his mind to wander.

Turning the page, he absorbed what information he could as the man tapping ceased his typical routine and spoke up. The contractor turned to face his peers, his eyes staring curiously at them. While the tapping man rattled on of the waste of time and how disgraceful everything was, Ion could only think of- A nerve was struck. Ion, as quietly as he could, winced in pain as he looked down at his arm. He rolled his sleeve up, revealing nothing but fair skin with various moles dispersed about. Ion sat in confusion, wondering what had caused such a sharp pain before feeling a growth in his neck. "Pay attention." A small slit opened up behind his jaw and under his ear briefly, speaking softly and concisely. He tried to mutter out a small response until he felt another growth, this time on the palm of his hand. An eye. It stared at him. Peered into his soul or what remained of it. The eye disappeared a few seconds later, returning to whatever pit it spawned from.

"Fine." Ion spoke under his breath, letting out a deep sigh and resigning himself to having to pay attention. The man of tapping quit his speech and returned back to his seat before Ion could begin the process of heeding any of his words. The contractor looked briefly around, hearing a response to the tapping man's speech. It was nothing but a response. A way of showing attendance, like school. Ion tracked the source of this talk and pointed it down to a man of monochromic colors. He looked bland and particularly old, possibly no older than 50 or 60 years of age. He tilted his head as they continued; commending the agency for their diligence and acumen.

Another deep breath left his mouth as he looked down at his book. He had no feelings of impatience, nor of irritation. It's not in his toolbox to even use. A simple yet dangerous emotion washed over him; an emotion one could call the source of murder. Anger. It pulled at him as it replaced what feelings would be present. Ion had known of this flaw in his mental state but it worked in his favor. He could only feel three things. Two of which were more positive than negative. All he had to do was be hopeful for something good to come. In this situation, he prayed to himself and hoped that this peculiar meeting would end as fast as it could for it overstayed its pleasant welcome.

Ion looked back up at the group, deciding it better to raise concerns than sit idly by. He could not say for certain if that would have a negative effect on his emotional state but he'd sleep safer at night knowing he didn't let anger consume him. "When were we poised to start?"
Euclid Leaf Goonfire

A man that could have easily been mistaken for a kid sat leaning forward on an uncomfortable stone bench. It used to be that you could tell a person was older than they looked by looking at their eyes, but nowadays the sharp glint of painful experiences settled into even the eyes of children. The man could have easily passed for any age between thirteen and thirty without anyone questioning either claim. But the man had gotten annoyed at being spoken down to by those who first saw him as a kid, so he'd begun to wear more formal clothing to cut off annoying assumptions about his age, and by extension level of experience. The contractor called Law might look young, but he was no child.

That was at least true at most times, but right now was not among them. Before the foe he currently faced Law was very much still a helpless child.

"Tch." His pale blue eyes narrowed and he clicked his tongue in annoyance as his mind spun in futility.

"Hohoho, take all the time you need, kid. I ain't got anywhere I need to be yet." The old man sitting across from Law was content watching the boy squirm and struggle to find a way out of the corner he'd been put into. The man hadn't left Law any available moves, but he would let the boy work through his options until he figured that out.

The pair were sitting in a crowded park, not very much resembling one anymore, but that's just how things were in the after-Afterlight world. Too many people, not enough space, at least in cities that everyone flocked to for relative safety, and especially in this city. There wasn't any fresh air or open spaces in this park, just a grassless ground entirely covered by homeless bodies or shoddily-constructed shelters to house those bodies. The air smelled as bad as the people here since it hadn't rained enough to wash in a while. Law in his formal clothing looked entirely out of place in this setting. How had he even gotten here?


When his wanderings eastward across America finally brought him into the city, the sleepless living city's eyes were immediately upon him. To the powers that be within this city Law was no different from any other dangerous entity entering their domain. He'd been under constant observation. Some of the groups watching him kept to the shadows, scampering out of sight whenever he decided to look for them, but others decided it would be better to contact him directly. The phone in his pocket was an artifact of one such interaction. Law playing a nonsensical game with an old homeless man in a foul-smelling crowded park was another. Law had been about ready to write off this entire city before he'd been led to this place. The people here might have little and smell something terrible most days, but they were the first ones to show him anything resembling kindness to a complete stranger since he'd come to this city. They'd given him the tiny reason he desperately needed to keep his flames bottled up inside for one more day, and then another and the next and so on.


A ringing phone forced Law to pause his futile mental struggle. The old man waved for Law to take the call. He pulled the simple cellphone out and answered.

"There better be an emergency."
...
"I'm busy."
...
"No, I'm not. I already told you last time, don't contact me for things like this."
...
"I'm not one of your dogs. I don't help, and I don't save. Only call me if there's no one left to save and you don't care what happens after."
...
"The deal was that I'd answer this phone when it rang. I did. If you keep wasting my time like this, I might decide not to the one time you call with an actual good reason."
...
"Same."

The call ended, leaving Law glaring at the phone in his gloved hand. The damn Agency didn't seem to understand that he didn't want to hear about tragedies that might or definitely would happen in the future. Tragedies he couldn't do a single damn thing to stop. No matter what, he wouldn't be able to save anyone. It was better to only find out after the tragedy happened. At least then he could do something about it.

The phone was full of notifications that Law had silenced as soon as he'd been given the phone. There were recent ones from that Contract Board app the Agency had preloaded onto the phone. Law looked at the new postings. The most recent was an urgent alert about a dog monster in a high school. Nothing he could help with. Their survival chances were better if he stayed away. The other fresh posting was a bird monster that had killed two and taken a kid hostage. Currently it was holed up in an abandoned construction site... that wasn't far. Law read the words child and hostage a few more times. A sad sigh escaped his lips. There was nothing he could do.

"I give up. You win, again." Law conceded the game against the old man and stood up.

"Leaving already? I guess that's what I get for not going easy on a kid. Hohoho!"

Law actually smiled at the old man's chiding, a rare look on his cold face. "I'll try and come back for a rematch tomorrow."

The man waved him off. "You do that. These guys around here are no fun to beat anymore. They all complain I cheat. Can you believe that!"

"But you do cheat."

"I invented the game with all its rules, it only makes sense that I get to cheat a little!" The old man laughed at his own wit. "Anyway, thanks again for coming down and spending time with us. I know you don't have to, but it really does mean a lot to some of us when someone that isn't... one of us, you know, someone like that actually sees us as people. It's a rare thing and only getting scarcer."

"I'm sure the snacks I brought have nothing to do with it," Law said as he put his hat back on.

"Hohoho, they might," the old man agreed to that. The paper bag full of bakes sweets that Law had picked up on his way here this morning was still sitting where Law had dropped it in front of the old man. "I'm sure I can find a few lil street rats that'll love to taste something good for a change." As usual the old man hadn't taken anything in it for himself.


Law wandered through the city, having a destination in mind but not being able to force himself towards it any faster. It was no good if he arrived too early. It was better to arrive too late and let someone else solve the problem. His meandering feet eventually found the river and turned to walk along its edge.

Location: Bronx River - New York City
OverconfidentMagi

Location: NYACC Meeting Room - Executive Affairs
Ambiloquous The Prophet Remembrance Goonfire

-- For the Captain's apology, a reply came: "I understand your concern. I hope this is not a forecast of things to come on this mission." The monotone, achromatic man and the source of the voice had a similarly stiff posture. His overcoat sat draped over his chair, while his gloved hands rested folded on the conference table.

The Captains lips curled up. It was like seeing a black panther grin.
"If we're resorting to relying on that man, then we're already deep in a disaster..." tap.

He turned his deep blue eyes and gazed at the older gentleman. Though the record stated that they hadn't even reached a year long, the graying hair definitely told a different story. He had a life before all of this. Though, they all did.

-- "While we wait," -Negative added, "I must commend your swift preparations. It was a surprise when I saw my jet would have an escort." Despite the seeming praise, his tone was nigh robotic, devoid of even a definite accent. It made him difficult to read--perhaps a benefit, but more likely a curse.

The Captain nodded, "We would not have our guests be in danger. I'm not sure if you travel by air very often, but the skies are full of... trouble lately."

The deep blue eyes pivoted across as one of the private contractors began to whisper with a growth on their face. The Captain had been watching them, whether or not they were aware of it. They had been fixated on fiddling with a white book, timidly and mediating. This was a strange case. Not often does someone die and come back years later infused with mysterious power. The NYACC couldn't have them just walking around. Luckily, this Ion was surprisingly amiable when a team was sent to greet the foreign entity. Their records are patch-work, barely a comprehensible file to even begin with.

However, the Captain was used to a few screws loose. When it came to contractors, nothing was ever a 'complete package'.
But his attention was dragged to a sudden outburst in the room.
“Who are we working with.”
tap.

-- When the woman typed out an apology at a much more agreeable volume did -Monarch allow himself to laugh a little, waving his hands in an apologetic manner before resting his head on his gloved hand. "Well, as long as it's not as loud again, I don't think anyone would mind."

The ever charming -Monarch seemed to be the only one trying to keep morale up, lighting up the rather awkward and dull mood of the room with bits of conversation. It was a cute attempt. Though he wasn't surprised a few of them would be cranky after being roused and escorted to the NYACC head building. This was basically a prison for private contractors. The NYACC dealt with entities, of course. But their secondary objective, and perhaps as pertinent a duty, was to regulate and oversee their safe use among public contractors. This meant anyone who broke any rules, would find themselves treated no different than the Entities that terrorize this world.

"I see we have an eager one here." tap. His eyes looked now at -Forget-Me-Not
"But before you point fingers at people, are you sure you even know who you are?"

As soon as the Captain said this, a low shuffling can be heard outside.

"Law? Law. Did that... just hang up one me? Fucker. Well, okay, two can play that game. If you're going to be a child, we'll treat you like one."
The pale and slender form of the Lieutenant then pushed through the double doors, brushing a stray strand of black hair back behind her ear. Though it was easy to tell from her flushed face how she really felt, and her tactful choice of words outside, the Lieutenant maintained a clean expression of professionalism when eyes were now upon her. "Law won't be making it. We shouldn't have children at the adult's table anyway." she said in a hushed voice, "Let's not delay things any further. We have a lot to cover." closing the doors behind her with a shake of her head.

Her heels clacked loudly, almost in synch with the Captain's tapping, as she came around to stand next to him at the other end of the room. tap.

"Of course." The Captain said, sighing. He gave one more scan across the group with his blue eyes. Like a panther in the grass.
"So, does anyone have anything else they want to get off their chest before we begin business?" tap.

...

As hot and muggy as it was, there was at least one person in the city who felt quite comfortable in the heat. In fact, it was days like these that she could take off her scarf and jumper in favour of something lighter. Of course, this was nothing but an old shirt, her usual pants, and her unbuttoned jacket, but it was a welcome change regardless. Her slightly burnt hat, scarf and jumper were carefully folded into her bag, though she knew as soon as the sun dipped below the spindly skyline she would need them once again.

In the meantime, Red was enjoying a lovely day in the park while munching on a cookie some old man had given out. She sat on an overturned oil barrel, her boots stirring up the little bits of ash and broken glass piled below it. At one point the park grass might have looked nice, but today it was a piebald mixture of green, yellow-brown, and some unidentifiable sludge. In her lap rested an open can of tuna, and all around her sat a meowing hoard of exactly 34 cats. Most were strays but one seemed to be a pet judging by the collar and cute little bell. As if it wasn't already obvious, it was also the fattest of the group and sported a glossy orange coat. It leapt up onto the barrel and began pawing at her sleeve furiously.

As was custom, Red began to scoop out chunks of tuna and throw them for the cats to eat. It was like watching piranhas in a feeding frenzy, but eventually the hungry meowing faded into purrs and chirps. Even a feral looking tom with one eye and a torn ear began to nuzzle her feet. Red smiled and leaned down to scratch the cat's chin, "Careful, you'll get soot and muck all over your handsome fur"

Just a bottle throw's away she could see a pair of fellow street rats eyeing her can of tuna and swollen bag. If it wasn't for the cats, they might even have tried to snag one or both. The taller of the two put a hand in their pocket, fidgeting with what she could only imagine was some sort of weapon while they considered their chances. Naturally, Red gave them a smile and wave as another stray jumped into her lap. After an uncomfortably long moment of eye contact, the stranger turned their attention elsewhere.

Red sighed. If any good came from the abundance of EE in the city, it was that most people didn't toy with things that were weird. Well, most people. Red, on the other hand, had come to the city in search of the weird. It was surprisingly difficult with the amount of contractors taking down EE, and usually by the time Red heard of an entity emerging it had already been shot by police or taken care of by another contractor. Did they even give them a chance? She wasn't quite sure why hunting them was so popular, but she assumed it was a good-citizen sort of thing in these cities.

As if on cue, a shrieking police car zoomed past the slum-park, heading towards the river. Red stood up, holding onto the cat that had been in her lap like a child hugging a teddy bear. Could it be an EE or a typical crime? If it was a petty crime she would run all that way for nothing...but if it was an EE she would miss a new opportunity for her 'research'. Would she even make it in time? If only she had a super fast EE to ride around on instead of one who hates crowded areas and making life easier.

Making her choice, Red shouldered her backpack, tucked away the tuna can, and ran after the sounds of police sirens. The cats followed after her in a little stampede, jumping over both people and objects to keep up. With her long, shimmering hair trailing behind her, it made for quite the unusual sight.

She never could get used to the architectural opulence of the NYACC headquarters, with it's lancet windows and arching ceilings of the main reception area. Of all design inspirations they could've gone for Verity often pondered at their choice, or at least, when she had an abundance of time to do some day-dreaming due to the lack of punctuality from a fellow colleague. Did the founders liken their establishment to some kind of religious calling? A pious self-righteous purpose-driven crusader waging a Holy War against evil creatures that threatened the sanctity of mankind? Or maybe they simply liked the over-extensive use of stonework and ominous ribbed vaults that made it impossible for her to whisper without someone hearing her speak on the other end of the hallway. At least, they were now seated at one of the less extravagant meeting rooms.

Verity sat straight-backed with her hands folded neatly in her lap, pale blue eyes irises casually danced between each respective speaker as they basked in the awkwardness of a 'meeting that should have started minutes ago'. There were many familiar faces, fellow members of their Civil Contractor's dispatch unit, though she hadn't worked with many of them she at least knew them by name. There were others, of course, newcomers that intrigued the young woman but a sense of languid pragmatism held back her curiousity. They'd probably be properly introduced in due time, and if not, it didn't quite matter she supposed.

"I do hope all your trips here were nice and comfortable. Need anything while those tardy come along, anyone? coffee? I can be quite the barista."

Verity tilted her gaunt face in the direction of the newest member, the towering red-headed scarecrow. The thought of a warm aromatic brew teasing at her tastebuds, but before she could answer, they were interrupted by a robotic monotone. It came from the laptop of one of the private contractors, a tanned black-haired woman. It took the brunette a moment to process the exchange, finally realizing the question and the nature of its utterance. Another bound by some kind of speaking contract, similar to Sanction, or so it seemed.

The erstwhile blonde resumed her quiet observation as the momentary commotion died down and Sanction promptly began their meeting.

"So, does anyone have anything else they want to get off their chest before we begin business?"

A raised hand, "I do Captain," Verity replied deadpan before dropping her hand and resuming her straight-backed posture, seemingly with no intention of saying anything else.

Spade stared down at the notebook as though she could make it wither with her gaze. In a way, it had withered- the pages' edges were tattered, the notebook was thrice bloodstained, and there was a hole punched through the top-right corner of each page where a thick metal chain ran through. She was on page 78 now, which was covered from top to bottom in imposing red ink that did nothing but irritate her.

At the top of the page was scrawled: "MIKHAEL MYENSWERTH LOCATIONS"

The penmanship wasn't great, but it couldn't be. When she wrote, she was either shivering from the cold or shaking for other reasons. Her muscles might twitch, and her hands were always shaking, making something as simple as writing become a full display of self-control. Self control, of course, is what she gave up to the Addiction-Entity.

Below the title of the page were locations, all in capital letters- easier to read with her handwriting- listing a full page of locations. They were all of Mikhael's current locations, including:
Clay Pit Ponds State Park, Veterans Road West, New York, New York
Three miles in the air above Devil's Lake, Baraboo, Wisconsin
Inside of one of the remaining standing walls of the Alamo, Hidalgo, Texas.
The bottom of Challenger Deep, Mariana Trench, Pacific Ocean.
Inside of the metal smelter of Carrera Casting Corporation, W 48th Street, New York, New York.

And many, many others. This phenomenon had been happening ever since he arrived in New York, and it had set the gears turning in her head. She had come to three relatively solid theories: Mikhael had made a pact with an Entity that can obfuscate his location like a VPN, he had become an Entity, or he was currently within The Eclipse. It just didn't make sense. At least, not yet, but she had no plans of giving up. Perhaps it had something to do with-

"Mommy, can you brush my hair?" The Child's voice, like a steel fork raking across a dinner plate that had always been empty, broke up the silence of the room, and her concentration. She'd been getting lost in thought more often recently; her mind had a tendency to grab onto ruminations and obsess over them for hours, as a way to break up the monotony of being at the NYCC. She had to play nice, at least for now- they were her best chance.

"Of course, darling." Spade whispered automatically, and softly brought her hands up from the boardroom table to gently tousle the Child's hair. She played with it calmly as she analyzed the room, trying to piece together where they must be in the meeting.

The door was closed- so they must have stopped waiting for Law. No one was speaking, which means the meeting must have been about to start, given that the previous awkward silence- which is what caused her to stare at her notebook in the first place- had been caused by Law's absence. She also recalled that someone to her left had spoken up, shortly after the Captain had said something briefly. Looking to her left, no one seemed to have any intention of continuing to speak, meaning the matter must have already been resolved.

So, according to the information present, she was free to stare at the Captain awkwardly until the meeting started, free of expectations of saying anything useful, at least as of yet.

Probably.

A blonde woman called out to Law. His pale blue eyes jumped to her face for a moment - he recognized her as a fellow contractor but couldn't recall what name she went by - but his eyes moved off her to follow the black birds as they scattered away from where she'd suddenly appeared.

Birdcage... just one more power in this city that could have eyes watching his every move. It was something he'd thought since shortly after he'd come to this place, but he felt like a rat trapped in a maze being watched at all times by people above him that he couldn't see or touch. It made his skin itch. But he could put up with itchy skin. Compared to skin charred and burnt, flesh and blood boiling, the superheated air inside lungs burning its way through the body as it expanded faster than it could escape... the discomfort of having powers that be watch his every move felt downright cozy. Birdcage was a figure that Law put quite a bit of trust in, despite having never met the contractor behind the name as far as he knew. If this city burned to the ground, at least a few people might be able to survive thanks to Birdcage and their ability.

The blonde contractor had been talking the whole time while Law ignored her to stare at birds. He caught her saying something about the Lieutenant and putting contractors in cages, like dogs.

"Lock up hope in a cage and shut it tight because hope for the hopeless is too scary a thought," Law mumbled a line of a poem he had written down in a book somewhere, or had that one been burned up already? It was hard to remember what of his had been burned up when, which were already burned and which would be next. Bits and pieces of his past thoughts flitted through his memory like ashes dancing above an open fire.

Law was knocked out of his head by the female contractor nudging him as they approached the police barricade surrounding the construction site that the Bird Eclipse Entity had taken roost. She seemed to be under the impression that he was also here to help deal with the entity. She must not have been told about him yet. Law stopped walking towards the scene. "You go on ahead," he said. "This one is all yours. I'll just hang back in case something goes wrong." And with a dismissive wave he stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away from a scene where a child's life was in danger, like it had nothing to do with him.

He'd do as he said and find somewhere close to watch the situation from, but he didn't plan on doing anything here. If he used his power to take out the entity, the hostage would get burned in the crossfire. If the hostage died and he used his power, the construction site would burn as collateral damage. It would be best for everyone if he just stayed out of it and let the other contractors deal with the situation. They might not be able to do much, but they could at least do what he couldn't.

All of a sudden the moping Law found himself staring down a stampede of stray cats, led by a blonde girl sprinting down the street towards him. Well, towards the scene behind him, but in the moment he was more concerned with the towards him part of his present situation. Law jumped out of the way of the urban Jumanji scene and let the cats-and-girl stampede flow past him. In a city teeming with odd and unnatural entities, something like this was almost mundane, but that didn't make it any less surprising when it happened to you. He shook his head. That made two contractors on the scene, not counting himself. They should be able to deal with the entity and save the kid without any problems.

As Law turned to leave, he noticed one of the cats was still around. The cat was just kind of staring at him. It was an odd looking thing, with smooth black fur that almost looked like it was sparkling. It broke eye contact and ran off to rejoin the rest of the horde chasing after that girl. Law just shrugged. Strange city full of stranger things. Now, where was he going to sit and watch this scene unfold?

Interacts: Euclid Leaf
Mentions: Juju

Bob's combat boots swung lightly off the roof's edge as she sat there, sipping her appy sauce(apple sauce). She hummed a light tune as she stared down into the vast emptiness that lays out before her. Her usual sweater was tied around her waist, her dusty, stained dress pressed tight to her skin with uncomfortable sweat. Thankfully, for a least a short moment, her dark mask was removed, seated beside her as she ate her 'meal'.

Her ears perked up at the sound of sirens. Using her left hands, she opened her eye on her wrist, gazing down at the world below her. Her stomach did a little flip as she was faced with an extremely lethal height. brushing the feeling aside she watched below her. She could see the red forms moving, most running quickly away from the destination the sirens were headed towards. Jumping up she chugged her appy sauce before placing it in the pile next to the worn-out blanket that sat on the roof. Pulling on her mask she made her way down the rusty fire escape(one that definitely should not be in use).

Her shoes made a soft sound against the humid pavement as she landed off the broken ladder that ended her 'fun' stairs. Bob hummed an old lullaby as she quickly began to walk before taking off running out of the ally she was in. As she did she ran directly into another body, one whose skin was refreshingly cool. On impact, the two of them were sent tumbling onto the sidewalk as others continued to run over and around them, "Ow, fuckie. Sorry about that." she mumbled out, rubbing her right elbow where she had landed on.
Juju

Location: Bronx River - New York City --
Outside Police Barricade
OverconfidentMagi Juju seasonedcat

--"Lock up hope in a cage and shut it tight because hope for the hopeless is too scary a thought,"

-Cliff stood there with a strange grin, "Huh?"

She had only heard about -Law from others. Aside from his aloof and anti-social mannerisms, there were rumors he was an entirely selfish and apathetic contractor. Who was only tolerated as nothing more than as a necessary evil. Something to throw at a particularly powerful EE as a last resort. Some people spoke ill of his mysterious power, but she never understood it really. All their powers had some sort of limitation. Control is only a concept people like to cling onto in the face of this unpredictable existence. No one has absolute control. At least, no one yet. The emergence of EEs are starting to change how people even understand the notion of understanding.

Burning people seemed like a horrific idea, but -Cliff has seen much worse when a rampaging EE got set loose too long.

They reached the barrier by the time she finished her bread, now staring up at the 3m tall wall of interlocking titanium and steel. It was almost scary how efficient the emergency teams worked to erect the metal sectioned gates, which now barred the entire street. In just a few minutes of the signal being broadcast, no less. Though, it was obvious the employment of recent drone technology helped a great deal. The large fluttering bots were the size of small cars, delivering the barricades by sky, bypassing the logistical issues of navigating the tangled concrete jungle.

Two armored police officers who were standing on guard at the checkpoint were now moving up towards their position. Their helmets flashed with a bright light. Scanners.

--"You go on ahead," -Law said. "This one is all yours. I'll just hang back in case something goes wrong." And with a dismissive wave he stuck his hands in his pockets and turned to walk away from a scene where a child's life was in danger, like it had nothing to do with him.

"Well, of course I didn't expect you to get involved. I can handle it myself. Just make sure you don't get too bored over there." she laughed.

She pretty much expected such a response from the recluse. Honestly, she preferred it this way. Sharing any of the cut meant more work for later.

-Cliif moved forward to present her badge, but the pair of officers were swarmed by a sudden great wave of damp smelly furry bodies. -Cliff was nearly overtaken as well, lifting her foot as the plump body of a mangy black cat pushed through between her legs.

"What the fuck?" one of the officers called out, trying not to trip over the scurrying animals.
One of them quickly identified the ring leader of this little feline circus, an odd scruffy blonde girl.

"Dammit, these contractors... Can't you at least wait until you get inside before you start letting out your freak pet demons...? Ah!" the officer who had been criticizing the girl then let out a yelp when the claws of a cat dug into his leg.

Yowl!

-Cliff burst out laughing, "Oi, -Law, won't you get a look at this? We've got a whole roaming petting café right here!" glancing back only to met with the back of -Law leaving the scene. She just shrugged and moved after the mysterious girl, who looked smaller from afar, but was actually much taller than herself. -Cliff gritted her teeth in jealousy, but smiled nonetheless.

Just before she was able to reach them, however, another figure appeared and rammed into them. A strange looking... girl? It seemed to look that way, based on their body shape, but the mask made left things a smudge ambiguous. Was this another contractor? It seemed that way. Every civilian pretty much were taught to walk the other way when they saw an Entity barricade. But regardless of their nature, what was the scene before her?

-Cliff was dumbstruck for a moment, glancing at the two mangled people on the floor. Even the two officers seemed perplexed by this new situation. For a hostage situation, this seemed to be more of an early morning comedy routine than a tense rescue mission.

...

"Excuse me!"
"Sorry!"
"Coming through!"

Red weaved her way through the group of police and -bystanders as quickly as she could without shoving people aside. Luckily for her, sprinting towards a crowd was an unorthodox, yet quite effective way to do this. Most people moved to the side when they saw her coming, or at least, the hoard of cats at her heels. Unfortunately they were also most of her problems. Her new feline companions rushed through the mass of police, jumping through legs and over cars, leading to more than a few unhappy and fully armed people.


"They're not freak demons...and those are just strays! Harmless!" she looked back as she ran towards the barricade, grimacing as the poor officer was almost immediately mauled by one of the cats. "Umm..."

Worried about the safety of both of them (mostly the police officer), Red lost track of where she was going and almost ran directly into a man wearing a fedora and a broody expression. Luckily, he managed to side step out of her path before she could slam into him. At this point Red stumbled to a stop, her cats fanning out around her as they waited with unusual patience.

"Sorry, sorry! My fault! I..." she tilted her head as the sulky fedora-man turned to walk away with complete nonchalance. His companion on the other hand, seemed to be getting a kick out of this. It wasn't unusual for her to be laughed at, especially for much more malicious reasons, so Red didn't think of it too much. She was more concerned over the catfight behind her. She whipped around to face the police officer. "Hey, don't hurt him! He just ate Tuna!"

Hoping to break up the fight, she doubled back towards the police officer and straight into a masked girl.

Red fell hard onto the pavement, scraping her hand and knee as she went down. A few of the cats began to nuzzle her as she slowly sat up.

"Come on!" She cursed, gingerly inspecting her abused limbs. The palm of her hand was raw and bloody and there was a fresh tear in her leggings, just below the one she had already stitched. Not good, but could be worse. "At this rate I won't make it to the entity before..."

Her voice trailed off as she looked up at the masked girl(?) who had run into her. At least, they looked like a girl, and about the same age as herself. The moment Red laid eyes upon the mask her golden locks began to shimmer, as if struck by direct sunlight. It felt like liquid gold was being poured over her scalp. Something, or perhaps someone, was making Vanity extremely happy.

"...the other... are you a contractor?" Red stood up, scratching the scar on her cheek repeatedly. Every movement of her nails only seemed to make it itch more and already the skin was becoming inflamed. She took a step back and almost tripped over a cat, stumbled, and regained her balance.

The small crowd of strange faces was beginning to feel suffocating. She felt her chest ache, so she kept her head down and quickly scooped up the cat attacking the police officer and held it tight against her chest. "So... do you know anything about the entity?"

She really wanted to ask 'are you going to kill the entity' but that was a stupid question that had been answered several times over. Once she had learned enough, she could scale that barricade and hopefully get a running start before this other contractor. She gave a suspicious glance at the short bystander and the fedora-man, realizing they could be contractors as well.

Monarch sat straighter in his chair once the lieutenant strode in, his superior's professional air silently signalling the legitimate start to the meeting. It didn't deter Monarch from his ever smiling visage however. A small seated bow greeted the Lieutenant once she passed by. "Welcome back, Ma'am." Once the Lieutenant was situated, he sat more comfortably in his office chair-throne and listened intently.

"So, does anyone have anything else they want to get off their chest before we begin business?"

The ever present tapping of the captain was rhythmic enough to be white noise, and the regal contractor found himself silently matching pace with his foot. It was like a metronome! With the meeting having formally begun, Monarch looked to the door. 'Well, nothing wrong with being fashionably late. Makes for a grand entrance.' In the meantime, it was probably time for formal introductions and the actual point of the meeting. Monarch's guess was right; his co-workers began introductions and it soon came around to make an impression. Greed's habits took over for a moment, and he subtly looked over himself to make sure everything was pristine. Clothes? Perfect. Hair? Immaculate. Face? Always stunning. Greed sure did like pretty things. Taking care to smile charmingly and speak clearly, he waved at those present briefly. One only got one introduction after all.

"Oh, is it my turn? My name is Monarch, and I've been a contractor for about…...a month? Became a part of this team a few days after my contract was formed. Please, tell me if you need anything at all. I understand that being called on such short notice can be... inconvenient." With one last small smile, he waved a hand towards his next colleague on their side of the table. Hopefully it was a good enough greeting. After all, the Privateers would only learn of himself through what he said; meanwhile Monarch and the rest of the NYACC had files on all of them present. Inside his head he heard Greed's quiet laugh, and indulged it with a tiny inward laugh of his own.

"Greetings. Please, show Article#002 of Classified File - D023."

Turning his attention to the presentation, Monarch analyzed the environment shown rather than the actual briefing. What he saw made him bring a hand to his face in silent disappointment. It was far too open. He saw a couple spots he could use as a nest, but it wasn't much. Though he could probably just circle the island in a boat, or shoot from New York City's coast, but still. Either he was going to be ground team, or his spots would leave tiny blindspots where he couldn't see. Not that it impeded his shot, but confirming kills was important. The captain turned to a woman brushing her entities' hair; they knew first-hand the target.

Leaning forward to place his elbows on the table and interlock his fingers, Monarch echoed his superior. "I'm interested in the target's capabilities. Think he could handle losing his head?"

There, out in the middle of the streets stood a lone cut-together man, and behind him was a large unidentified shape. The digitized clutter would be challenging for anyone else to even distinguish any clear detail, but -Spade would instantly recognize the person to be Mikhael.

She didn't. At least, not at first. She had told herself constantly over the past year-and-a-half that she'd recognize him on sight and put him down like the diseased parasite he is, but she was almost ashamed to find out that that wasn't the case at all. Her mind barely pieced together who she was looking at over the course of several seconds. He was recognizable, sure, but...

He really looked like this? Perhaps it was interference with the equipment they were using to record him. Or perhaps her feelings for him, both in the past and in the present, had distorted how she really perceived him. One thing was for certain, though. Seeing Mikhael, and knowing he was so close, brought her goal back to the forefront of her mind. It dominated every other thought in her head, pushing them so far out of the way that any kind of mental fog she had before was lifted. It was a one-track mental clarity. How long would it last this time?

He then gave a look back at -Spade, "I'm sure many of you would be confused by who this person is. But I alluded to Germany once before. So, -Spade, would you mind introducing this individual to the rest of our new team? I'm sure I wouldn't be able to do it any more justice than you."

She was, of course, happy to oblige. Any help was greatly appreciated.

"I'm interested in the target's capabilities. Think he could handle losing his head?"

"He might be able to, unfortunately, but don't let that stop you from trying. I'll elaborate. This is Mikhael-" She stopped herself just before saying their shared last name. Allies or not, they were all contractors, and there were many entities in the room. "He's a researcher I used to work with in Germany after the Afterlight. We were hired by the EU to do research into potential, practical solutions for summoning or luring Entities. The research was successful, and Germany was destroyed when the entities summoned were far too strong to be contained. Mikhael made a pact with at least one Disaster-class Entity, and likely several other Eclipse Entities. He's unhinged, irresponsible, and has no regard for human life. He sees himself as a god, and manipulates everyone around him to suit his own desires. For the last few months, he's been… splitting himself into multiple different locations. I can't really explain it yet, but the best guess I have so far is that he's either able to duplicate himself or obscure his location so that he appears to be in multiple places at once. I haven't been able to test that assumption, though. However, since he seems to be able to maintain his body in multiple locations at once..." She paused, looking over to Monarch. "He might just be able to handle losing his head. Unfortunately." She then stopped to take out a bottle of water from the bag slung over the chair behind her. As she dug through the bag, small tinks and clinks and clacks filled the room as metals, glasses, and ceramics all jostled around. She pulled out a half-crushed plastic bottle, drank its remaining contents, then continued.

"I really cannot overstate how much this man needs to die. He is as monstrous as the worst of the Eclipse Entities. That being said, he also has a genius, and psychotic, mind. He is a threat to all of our lives, and if you take him lightly, he will kill you. This is further complicated by the fact we don't really know what he can do yet. I hope that is helpful to you all."

She looked up at the contractor who couldn't speak, who was typing away at her laptop. Taking notes, maybe? Though, Spade felt as though she hadn't said anything particularly noteworthy.

“Captain, behind you.”

Immediately, Spade swivelled her head to the Captain, just as strands of swirling sentences of varying typefaces- with hands- and seemingly angry ? - descended upon him. How whimsical.

Never a dull moment... Spade thought, almost laughing at the irony as she brought up one hand up to cover the eyes of the Child.

Ambiloquous Euclid Leaf The Prophet Lekiel OverconfidentMagi Remembrance

Phys. Desc.: Long hazel hair. Pale blue eyes. NYACC Uniform.

Introductions. She never really were fond of them. Not that it was the result of any particular social apathy on her part.

Telling was a particular nuisance for her. On good days, Sanction or one of the others would save her the trouble. Today wasn't one of those days apparently.

Monarch waved over the greetings to her and it was her turn.

"Verity." She spoke a word to no one in particular. That part was important, for her eyes stared almost glassily at the drab grey folders stacked neatly on one of the shelves. A statement. A word. Nothing more. Her clear but quiet voice hung in the air, just a second into awkward territory.

Then her eyes shifted to glance at the gathering of private contractors, for what she was about to say was to their benefit; if they were to be working together in any way.

"I only speak one truth a day." It was a cringe-worthy introduction at best.

Always speak the truth. She'd sacrificed her right to scribble on the peeling paint of her apartment for this meagre task. A daily routine reminder of who she was, who she was meant to be. Verity was a cruel name, it mocked her memory.

That's why it suited her.

One truth a day... pssh you always make things overly dramatic

A sybilline voice teased at the edge of her hearing as the introductions shifted to someone else. It made her ear itch.

Shut your mouth

My... someone's feeling peckish today.

She ignored the voice in her head and focused on the meeting at hand. To her mild relief, Web seemed to heed her order, for the time being at least.

For the most part, the details of their mission and the circumstances that surrounded it weren't particularly out of the ordinary; and by that, everything was out of the ordinary. A suspected disaster threat. A whole missing unit. If it were any less, she wouldn't be sitting here anyway. But even so, she couldn't shake a cold chill at the reference to Unit 4's bodycam footage. It sounded like Princeton all over again, only that time. . . she was part of the 'Unit 4'.

She glanced again at the gathered Contractors. The 'private contractors' in particular. Why had the big wigs decided that they needed 'outside' help this time? The tall woman with a 'child' explained her presence soon enough. Their target was related to her somehow. What about the others?

Might want to watch Jumpy more closely.

She blinked when Web's voice crept into the eardrums of her thoughts again.

Jumpy?

She quizzed. If you could sigh in your thoughts, she'd have just heard Web do it.

Forget or whatever her name was.

Pale ocean eyes shifted over to observe the tanned woman. Verity was no mind reader but the contractor was clearly some levels of detached from the briefing. She followed the direction of her gaze towards Sanction. Verity looked again. An annoyed huff escaped her ruby lips. There was a glint of light as an ornate dagger was quickly unsheathed.

A sting of pain.

“Captain, behind you.”

In the instant the Entity lunged for the Captain's neck, strings of dark crimson shot forth from her outstretched hand and deflected the attack with a whip-like crack. He likely didn't need her help of course. But that wouldn't stop her from inaction. An austere look passed over Verity's eyes as she glanced sidelong at Forget-Me-Not before turning to Sanction, her voice sterile and dispassionate.

"Why are we involving them, Captain?" Despite the circumstances, her tone held no vehemence any more than it would were she asking about the weather. "Clearly some have full control over their Entities. Which would not be grounds for arrest in itself.."

Mentions - Ambiloquous teen_angst The Prophet

Smoke

He walked through the city streets aimlessly, without destination or intent beyond staying free should the phone in his pocket ring a second time in one day. Law was not as cold or as stupid as his own mouth made him out to be. That the Agency had bothered to contact him at all for some important meeting told him that the situation was bad. But that wouldn't be enough for him to act. For him to act a situation had to already be beyond saving. Otherwise his power would cause more tragedy than whatever he'd burned away. So he took a walk, did nothing, and waited. If the phone never rang, then he'd saved lives by not acting. If the phone did ring, then it was too late to save anything, and he would take retribution. As the day burned away, the phone never rang.

Law was walking with his hands shoved into his pockets and his head tilted to watch his plodding shoes when a pair of dark furry shaped rushed between his feet. His eyes followed the two rats as they crossed the impossibly empty New York street and passed between the feet of a person standing across from him. The man had messy dark hair and was wearing a filthy fur coat. He motioned for Law to join him on that side of the street, and the two walked together for a while.


"May I ask you one thing?"

The King of New York City stopped looking out the taxi window to meet Law's question directly. He'd hailed a cab and had the young contractor join him inside after they'd walked for a while and talked about unimportant things. 'Have you enjoyed your time in my city?' 'Has the Agency been kind to you?' 'Has that old man in the park let you win one game yet?' Unimportant things that avoided the reason why such a famous recluse had chosen to approach Law in person. At least Law assumed this was the real person sitting next to him in the back of the yellow cab.

"Can't you handle whatever it is yourself?"

The King shook his head at the young contractor. "I could, but then I wouldn't be able to keep the rest of the city running. I could kill the thing threatening my city now, but how many malicious entities do you think spawn in a city of this size each day, each hour, minute, in the past second? In my eyes they are a much more real danger than a single upstart with a drop of borrowed power. Situations like this are the only reason that Agency is allowed to take up valuable space in my city."

"They haven't called..."

The cab came to a stop, interrupting whatever Law had wanted to say. It was impossible to believe, but the bridge he saw outside the window was unmistakably the one that connected Brooklyn to Staten Island. How had they gotten here? Law got out and looked around. No, his first thought had been correct, that was exactly where he was. But he'd been all the way on the other side of New York City just a few minutes ago. There was no way to move through the city in such a short time. Actually, thinking back, he hadn't felt the taxi come to a stop or slow down even once since it had picked up him and the...

The Rat King stared at Law from where he still sat in the backseat of the taxi. The ancient contractor raised a finger to point across the bridge. "You're an inhuman monster, Law, barely more human than the weapons the Agency thinks I don't know they're keeping locked away beneath my city. But given the choice of which weapon to see destroy my city, I'd much rather pick the one capable of regretting what they've done after the fact." The Rat King, younger than most assumed but far older inside, gave Law a sad smile. "After you've burned my city to the ground, please leave and never step foot here again."

Fire​

Law's walk across the bridge, through the city, towards the heart of Staten Island, was slow. He took his time taking in the sights and sounds, the city. The closer he got to the center, the more eclipse entities he came across. At first a few, and then more and more until it was as if the entities wished to eclipse the already overcrowded human population of the city itself. The sounds and sights of the city were enough fuel for him to burn away the ones that came for him. Sounds of screams, burning, collapsing, ending. Sights of death, broken bodies and bloody teeth, a city already lost. Law didn't pay enough attention to be sure, but he was certain that if he stopped to inspect each and every body, each stomach of an engorged entity before burning it away, that he'd find somewhere in the carnage what remained of his fellow contractors, the ones that had answered the Agency's call and been cast into this Hell as a result. He let out a sad sigh, but only dark smoke escaped his already burning lungs.

In between desperate blinks attempting to moisten his eyes as the moisture in them boiled away, Law's surroundings blurred and changed. Instead of a city hellscape he found himself in a snow-covered forest. He was familiar with these surroundings, so Law was neither panicked nor confused at the shift. He simply continued his march forward, his feet easily pushing aside the powder in front of him. White snow that fell from an overcast sky fell atop his head and over the stunted leafless trees that surrounded him. Each breath released a cool puff of vapor into the cold air that rose up to join the rolling clouds above. As usual, Law lied up until the last moment, when he reached the very edge of the forest and the last twisted, blackened tree waited there for him with branches outstretched as if to stop him from going any further.

Beyond the forest's edge was a wall of flames. Or should he call it a sea? A world? Everything he'd yet to burn? The smoke that rose from those infinite burning flames rolled across the sky forever, spreading ash that fell like snow and caught in the twisted charcoal branches of humans forever frozen in their final agonizing moments. The tree at the forest's edge begged him to turn back, to go no further, but Law ignored her warnings and pushed past her clinging branches. The tree fell away in a cloud of ash, and Law stepped through the wall of burning flames.

When Law's eyes opened again and he found himself back looking at reality, despite how similar it had begun to look like to his own personal imagined Hell, the glove on his left hand had been burned away. There on his ring finger sat a heavy iron ring, red with heat and smoking as it burned the flesh beneath.

"Are you the one responsible for this flood of entities?" Law asked the person that had been standing in front of him when he'd opened his eyes. Considering the density of entities pouring out of the destroyed reality behind the man, it was almost pointless to ask, but Law was compelled to do so anyway. The man, if he was even a man and not some entity wearing a human's skin, of course said nothing against the accusation. Law let out another breath of fiery smoke. "Ah, so that's it then."

Law's body blackened and burned as he was consumed by his own flames. Grass ignited, trees exploded from the sudden heat, metal melted, and the streets became rivers of tar. The man's body was burned to death, cremated, and incinerated until not even ash remained to fall to the ground where he'd stood. The entities pushing their way into reality burned and died the moment they gained a corporeal body, along with those already through and gathered around the break. They all burned. And the flames still rose higher and higher, hotter and hotter. Metal and stone, streets and buildings, they all boiled as the flames burned far too hot to be reasoned with. The roar of wind being pulled through the streets towards the growing firestorm grew louder than the flames themselves. As the swirling column of flame reached to the sky in a vain attempt to burn everything that thought itself above it, eclipse entities that had spread out across Staten Island found themselves buffeted by winds that tore windows and the sides of buildings off and lifted cars from streets like they were toys, and entities were dragged by this wind even as their claws and teeth struggled to hold onto anything they could to resist the pull of this fiery solar wind. And still the flames burned hotter. If there was still a person in the center of that inferno, he stood only on heat, the bedrock beneath him already set ablaze by his fire. Everything was pulled into his burning Tower of Babel and reduced to ash. Nothing alive could ever reach where he stood, humans, animals, entities, all the same burning up and scattering long before they actually reached that swirling mass of flame.

Ash​

If the human called Law had still been capable of coherent speech or thought then, he might have been screaming or crying or cursing the world and everyone in it that did evil things and forced him to balance the scales by causing even more death and destruction, but that wasn't the kind of man Law had chosen to be. He would hate the situation, the people, even the world, but he would never hate his choice. His role was to take retribution out on those who spread pain, and if he spread pain by doing so, then at the end he could simply pay his tab as well and then there would truly be no one to blame.

The firestorm that burned hotter than human comprehension disappeared as unreasonably as it had formed. The flames froze and the heat cooled and the energy that had been raging out of control once again became orderly in the shape and body of the human called Law. Everything was still burnt, everything was still melted and vaporized and dead, but nothing was left burning. The flames had been put out, put back where they came from and sealed away once more. The heavy iron ring had been returned to that imaginary place on the finger of that imaginary tree that always stood waiting for Law to beg him to stop.

Law stood on the edge of the massive crater he had burned into the heart of the island. It looked like the mouth of a volcano, but the magma that filled it had been suddenly cooled when he'd taken back his flames. A lake of frozen stone filled the bottom, and likely continued far below. It was predictable but still depressing that all of the buildings nearby were no more, unrecognizable hills of melted... everything that made up those glass and metal skyscrapers nowadays. Burnt-out ruins of some buildings could be made out far in the distance, so at least he hadn't destroyed every single structure on the island, but it was unlikely much of the place could be considered habitable for a long while. He let out a sad sigh, this time empty of fire and smoke.

"I guess I should do as I was told and leave," Law spoke to no one. "If that guy saw me now, after causing a mess like this, he'd probably try to kill me." And I don't have the justification to stop him. "Aaaaaaaah... And I'd just started to like this city too. The pizzas were still a little weird, but there were so many people. A few of them I even liked, I think." Law laughed to no one. "But I guess I've accomplished what I set out to by coming here. I was able to take retribution for one act of evil. Doesn't that mean I did a good job here?"

When Law's face fell from staring up at an unanswering God, he found a black cat sitting on the melted ground in front of him. "You were following that girl around, weren't you?" The cat gave no answer. "Was she here too?" The cat gave no answer. "Was she among the contractors killed by the entities here? Or did she burn up in my flames?" The cat gave no answer. Law filled the silence with his own assumptions. This cat wasn't natural. One glance and a person could tell as much. And this wasn't the first time he'd seen it. It wasn't even the second. This entity had been showing up wherever Law went for quite some time. He'd even been able to guess at its nature. And about why it chose to follow him of all people around.

"Hey Cat... I'm more free than anyone, aren't I?"

The cat gave no answer.​

fin​