Balance
Where there is Life, there will also be Death. With Time comes Space. Do not mistake me, though. I do not care for any of them. I will only breathe easily when all are gone.
“We have multiple reports of violent Remnant activity across New Chicago and the surrounding boroughs. If you or a loved one feel in danger, please call your local RISE strike team. You can find the number on the dNet’s home page. If you see something, say something.”
“That’s right, Josie. Especially with psychopaths like Bloody Mary running around. It’s very odd to see someone like her working alongside a former NCPD associate and longtime member of the community.”
“Well, Eric, that’s what we get for trusting Remnants. It was only a matter of time before they’d snap and start killing off our leadership.”
I grunt with annoyance and whack the button harder than I mean to. The screen blinks a multitude of colors before fizzling into darkness.
“Sorry,” I mumble to Azazel who sits across from me. “I’ll fix that.”
They tilt their head a little and lean forward, elbows braced their cloaked thighs.
“Should we not wait for the God Queen to join us?”
I glance at the other six Remnants sitting beside us in the armored vehicle. Either they’re in their own heads or doing a damned good job of pretending to be disinterested.
“Even if we let her do her thing, I don’t know how quickly she can be ready. I don’t know how it all works,” I rub the heels of my palms over my throbbing eyes. It’s been some time since I last slept.
And, for reasons I will never understand, Azazel and the other councilors elected me leader while Cass is down.
I would have loved for her to be here. Not just because she alone could level the city, but it feels wrong to be without her now. And I have no idea how her siphoning will go. She’d done it before, but it had seemed to be for expediency of the execution—not for the necessity of feeding.
“I should…” I slide the new device from my pocket and flick it open. It honestly looks a lot like a dPhone but has a stylized “O” on the back. Hell, even the interface is similar enough that it took only a few minutes to fill in the singular contact I had.
Whoever this European company was, they were at least letting us fly under DAEMON’s technofascist radar.
Nearing the Casket, will update you when we know more.
The phone slides easily into the padded cargo joggers and I look up again to see Azazel studying me again.
“It’s hard to tell if you’re asleep or looking at me,” I say, trying for a smile that I know is forced. No one in this truck is exactly excited about walking into a battlefield. Especially in a city where everyone seems determined to see us die.
“Do you truly love her?” Azazel’s question sort of pauses my brain mid tangent.
I don’t answer right away. Not because I’m not certain or because I have lingering misgivings. I don’t even really care about whatever she did to the dhampirs—if I’m to believe Varun anyways.
No, I want to make sure that Azazel comprehends the vast lengths I would go to for Cassandra Alta. For Bloody Mary.
“It didn’t really hit me how badly losing her would hurt until she died in my arms,” I say, and I feel the attention of the others in the car shift. “And I know she died, Azazel. I can feel those things.”
When no one responds, I squeeze my eyes shut. My chest aches from the memory. From the moment she’d just—
“I lost it,” I whisper, eyes burning behind closed lids. “She was gone and I was just left holding her. Just wondering what the fucking point was. Why this was happening.”
The truck goes deathly silent.
“But then there was something else, Azazel,” I say, raising my eyes to meet their impassive mask. “Her soul. Her tether. And just before it slipped through my fingers, I pulled it back. I pulled her back. I went into the afterlife and brought her back to me.”
I can feel their eyes on me. The others in the truck are staring at me like I’ve gone mad.
“I don’t know how I did it,” I say, jaw tight. “But no one will ever take her from me again.”
Azazel seems to consider me for a few moments before nodding slowly.
“She is important to me,” they say and there’s a tune of wistfulness in their otherwise bland voice. “Yet, she has never told me her true identity. Nor her history or background. I only know what I have experienced over the last twenty years.”
I had figured as much. Especially since they clearly didn’t know she was a vampire. And they likely didn’t know about the Romanian village, either.
“I have several hundred years of things to learn about her, too,” I say, smiling a little at the prospect of it.
Though, I suppose I won’t exactly live as long as she will—which is to say: forever.
I shake the thought from my head. Borrowing trouble won’t help me now.
The car makes a sharp move, and we slide a little in our bench seats.
“Lady Hiraeth,” the driver calls, glancing at me through the rearview. “You might want to see this.”
I duck low and poke my head through the space between the two front seats.
The Casket is technically beside Old Chicago. The issue is that, even with no traffic, it’s probably a thirty-minute drive from the Old Father clock tower to the Casket’s outskirts.
Which means we got here just a few minutes too late.
The mega-building that holds the majority of New Chicago’s Remnant population is the densest part of the community.
And it seems RISE knows that too.
“They’ve got a checkpoint,” the driver says, nodding to the first of the vehicles along the side of the road.
Sure enough, there’s several men with large weapons standing around a vehicle with a turret atop it. Just further ahead sits the entrance to the mega-building with what looks to be five or so more vehicles with similar-looking weapons.
The entire place is crawling with RISE agents.
“I didn’t know they had this kind of tech,” I say, turning to Azazel.
“Even if you had not met with Damien Roberts, they would have found a reason to use force,” they say, and I can feel the anger radiating off them—even if their words are monotone.
“Alright,” I say, turning my focus on the rest of the vehicle. “I thought we’d have more time to plan. It seems like we’re going right into it.”
All eyes are on me as I let out a slow breath. I don’t know how I became a leader, but this is what Marla and Trish had meant. What Cass had seen.
“I don’t know all of your names yet, and that makes me sick. But I do know that each and every one of you understands what’s at stake. If we let them move in on our communities, they will kill us all.”
I blow out another breath.
“They chose this war—not us. Make sure they regret fucking with us.”
There’s a short round of grunted agreements before the driver taps me again.
“They’re flagging us down.”
I nod and look to Azazel.
“Ready for war?”
Azazel rubs their gloved hands together, and the image is downright terrifying as a red hue begins to glow from their body.
“Always and forever.”
The vehicle stops and I move to the closed doors.
“If you die, make sure you take a few with you,” I say before kicking the armored doors open.
My feet hit the pavement, and I take in the dreary surroundings. There are dozens of people along the street, each looking harried and terrified. RISE agents seem to be filling in by the truck load and it’s hardly difficult to tell why.
This is the hub for Remnants in New Chicago.
They came right for our heart.
“Hey, asshole,” I say, rounding the truck and approaching the man who’d just signaled to our driver.
He turns to me, his just visible eyes crinkling in confusion before widening.
“Stop—” he begins, but the spike of darkness shreds through his helmet and projects through his mouth.
He topples over and hits the ground hard.
I hear the footsteps of the others and point towards the elevators to the main mega-building.
“Azazel and I will move towards the central area and begin clearing them out. When we’ve got this one, we can set up a base here. Let the other trucks know that we’re at this building.”
One of the women from the group nods and gives me a small salute before turning towards the groups of RISE agents on the ground level behind us.
“This is natural for you,” Azazel says, falling into step beside me. “Leadership.”
I look around Azazel at the four mutilated guards that had manned the checkpoint before refocusing on their white mask.
“I’m freaked out but also pissed. I think it’s working.”
We begin towards the elevator as a dozen more RISE agents spill out of the large entryway.
“Stop!” another one says and they level raise various weapons at us.
The shadows respond instead.
Several tendrils of inky darkness snake from the spaces behind them. Each hold sharp, serrated edges with the perfect slant for slicing muscle and sinew.
The agents don’t even see the blades.
Azazel steps around the pooling blood and follows me up the stairs and
“I did not think you had gotten so strong so quickly,” they say, sounding far too contemplative for the first battle in a war.
“When the Seer mind-fucked me, I sort of just got it, you know?” I respond, thumbing the button for the elevator. “Feels serendipitous, if that’s the right word.”
Azazel lets out a soft snort as the elevator dings.
The agents at the elevator’s entrance let out a startled scream before shadowy blades cut through their armor.
Azazel rolls out to my right and I see them in my periphery tossing grown men around like ragdolls. Their glowing hands launch red projectiles into agents further away, dropping them where they stand.
This is the only floor occupied by RISE. Which absolutely means it’s a trap. So, springing it is, really, the only option.
The other floors had been occupied by terrified residents and business owners who assured us that RISE had simply kept going up.
And up.
To the floor that held the Boilerhouse.
Because, of course, that’s where this would go down.
I can see the place, too, and it’s not even guarded. The only agents that we’d encountered were the ones at the elevator’s entrance.
“There’s no one else,” I say as Azazel falls into step beside me. “This is a trap.”
“Certainly,” they say and I see them draw a symbol into their palm. It glows red and then their entire body illuminates.
“Are you ever going to explain that?” I ask.
“You already have enough power, Hiraeth,” they hum like a disapproving teacher.
The bar’s entrance sits like a lone beacon amongst the otherwise desolate market area. The lit sign and paraphernalia make the place seem like an oasis when, really, it’s likely going to be a slaughterhouse.
I push open the door and frown as my eyes adjust slowly to the dimmed lights.
There’s well over two dozen RISE agents. Each of them look armed to the teeth with stuff I’ve never seen before. And each of them levels their weapons at us.
At the far end, where the VIP area usually is, and see two women and a man.
“Oh, fuck, Arya,” Kronos grunts out, sounding in incredible pain. “I told them you wouldn’t be stupid enough to come here.”
Ana, the muscle, is on the ground, alive, but bruised and beaten. If the men holding her in position with glowing-red lassos are any indication, she’d put up a helluva fight before they’d gotten her.
Lucille, on the other hand, is on her knees in front of a familiar blonde.
“Oh,” the blonde says, her eyes turning to meet mine. They’re a weird orange. Not like Cass’. More like neon. Unsettling. “Arya here is likely pissed we killed her girlfriend. Aren’t you, dear?”
“Alexa, right?” I ask, genuinely forgetting her name.
She levels a kick at Lucille who tumbles to the side, groaning in pain.
“That one is trouble,” Alexa says, voice far too calm for the situation. “And don’t you start again with that silly amnesia rubbish. You were hard enough to find in the first place. Did you like the little gifts I left?
“What?” I ask, stopping short of crossing into the main room.
“The little mark on Malachi’s wrist,” she says, grinning like it’s an inside joke.
“Darkrend’s mark?” I ask, frowning.
“His mark, yes. But my idea. Had to be sure you wouldn’t get a hold of any information you weren’t supposed to have. Knew you’d have that little ability when you manifested. It was only a matter of figuring out who.”
I shake my head a little, trying to work out the madwoman’s tangential thoughts.
“I’m pretty sure I was spying on you from the same places Bloody Mary was,” she lets out a tittering laugh. “Odd how you didn’t notice either of us.”
Alexa finally notices Azazel and her grin seems to falter for the slightest beat.
“She really is dead?” She lets out a high-pitched scoff that makes me want to slam her head into a brick wall. “You brought the Red Mage instead.”
I don’t answer, letting her monologue while I count the others in the room. It would be foolish to assume none of them are powered, but I figure few Remnants would be on RISE’s response teams. Even though a few token metas might make what they’re doing seem above board.
As it is, they’re definitely outfitted with the best tech available.
“Why are you here?” I ask, returning my gaze to Alexa. “Aren’t you Darkrend’s pet?”
The tension of the room seems to amplify at the monster’s name alone.
“Actually,” she says, giving me a grin, “I’m only here to confirm Bloody Mary’s death.”
She lets out another annoying laugh, apparently delighted by my lack of response.
“I can feel the anguish in your heart. You’ve got that look of failure in your eye. The reek of desperation. Life was snuffed and you can feel it. Sorry, sister, you two weren’t meant for each other anyways.”
This time, I let out a scoff.
“I think I’d know if I had a sibling who was as unhinged as you. And if you mean that in a ‘sisterhood’ sense, I’d rather eat shit and die.”
Alexa gives me a false-looking grimace.
“How harsh,” she giggles annoyingly. “You’ll learn soon enough.”
And then she disappears.
“How come everyone can fucking teleport?” I ask into a room that’s gone deathly still.
Azazel’s red glow brightens before I leap at the nearest agent.