Shades in the Afterglow: Ch 2 (6.14.2019)

[doom_doom]

Alright! So we got a post Impact world, little super human drama. The circling of events takes place after our big hero has taken out the big bad in the world. I can feel my skin crawling as I post this. Sigh. I'm about nine chapters in, so we'll see where this chestnut ends up. I hope you enjoy the world and the people in it. If you see grammar or some sort of continuity error, let me know. I try to edit as I go, but ya know. You always miss stuff in post. Enjoy kiddos! For now here comes the prologue and the first chapter. Yup. ...Yup. *slams head on desk* Woo. Showtime.

Shades in the Afterglow

 

Prologue: A Hot Summer Night

 

Society is a balance of people living in a collective agreement on what is the common greater good.

The moral fabric of society crumbled one great day when the answer to the Fermi Paradox came roaring from the heavens one fateful evening in the fields of Siberia. While not intelligent life per se, it had a profound effect on humanity's concept of itself. Ideas and powers that seemed to be legendary or the stuff of dreams in the past, came roaring to terrible life after the Great Impact. It was subtle at first, the manipulation of elements or a minor change in appearance, but with it came powers to rival the concept of God and what it meant. The Great Impact represented humanity's decline into the Metamorphic Age, in which the population began to be overtaken with the struggles of change. Wars spread. Famine spread. People changed. Many of the old concepts of government dried up, putting warlords and tribalism in their place, causing a great rift in technology and societal advancement. Asia's answer came in the form of the Sino-Ruso alliance, with many of the larger “zaibatsus” or city states headquartered in Japan.

 

The cities are sectioned into zones, or self contained quarters where many people make their lives, as their talent falls short of some of the upper echelons of society. On top are made up of what people call “architects,” and hopefuls, individuals whom possess great moral fortitude. With the elevation of status these white knights have in society, comes the greater attention to their talents, the ability they use to keep society from going topsy turvey. As such, in the more advanced centers of technology, hero worship of architects has come into vogue, as well as their fallen counterparts. The greatest and the worst of these characters could be considered, Captain Orion, the Architect of the Hunt, and Deus, considered the Anti-Architect of the Fallen, king of darkness to some or a teacher to others. The contrast between the two the former looking like a golden age comic book hero, decked out in a hardened soldier's of blue and white, with an eglantine crest on his chest, and the latter, a sharp being of pure dictatorial will in a sharp black suit, never bearing armor, represented the head of the opposing forces that would gather on the humid summer night. The gathering, was a seemingly fitting end to the current age of hero worship in the Alliance zaibatsus.

 

Both the hero and the villain's times were eclipsing that evening, with whomever winning passing on the the age old torch to the next generation. Hot on the heels of the Anti-Architect's lessons, a young man named Helios Reign, a hot headed fiery-haired devil, and his crew reconnoitered at an old Yakuza speakeasy that had long been abandoned in the Kamino District in Yokohama. The bar still retained much of the original oaken splendor of its former Yakuza days, heavy red velvet maroon curtains, gilded glasses, and bricks of thick mortar.

 

Having successfully kidnapped one of the top Architect apprentices, Kagutsuchi the Fire Bearer, the motley group of villains sized up what could be a potential ally. The young man at the center of this crowd, growled defiantly, the unruly mass of his spiky black hair pressing into the back of the stiff leather backboard he was bound against. Kagutsuchi's angry glare centered on the black clad ringleader of the affair, Helios Reign. Pushing a bit of his wild curls aside, Helios smiled, a bit too widely perhaps, behind the half skull mask attached to his face. He had shards of bone attached to his adaptive armor, giving the image of a ghoulish look to the young man. It was a token leftover from his former family when his ultra destructive talent, Unmake, manifested, taking their lives.

 

“Quite a brilliant night isn't it?”

 

Helios drew closer to the bound Kagutsuchi, observing him.

 

“Here we all are, gathered here upon the precipice of history. Finally, a little drop in the bucket to help people wake up and flood them with the realization that the society built up by these architects of “justice” is nothing more than just a sham.”

 

Helios circled around the bound black haired youth.

 

“So many people falling into the cracks between the light of Architects like Orion, with no recourse.”

 

He gestured to the air.

 

“What? Waiting to be saved?” He shook his head dismissively.

 

Helios leaned forward, his dusky eyes fixed upon Kagutsuchi.

 

“Physician heal thyself. Those who can, will, save themselves. The rest,” He shrugged, “drown in the currents of history.”

 

Helios stalked back across the room and perched upon one of the oak bar stools.

 

“You are one who is being pulled down, like us, by the masses around you. A tide of helplessness surrounds those of us,” He gestured widely to the group, “Whom can get things done. We seek to end the reigns that confine, choke out, and pigeon hole such individuals. Take down the farce of a society that architects like our “great” Captain Orion have created.”

 

Kagutsuchi's face became dark, silently listening to the man's words.

 

“People are losing hope in this system, that's why we can strike. The architectural caste system is starving this world of any real meaning.”

 

Helios Reign rose once more, crossing the room towards Kagutsuchi. The devilish young man sighed running his fingers through his hair once more. He glanced over at a patched up individual, who looked like a ghoul in parts.

 

“Ashe, please unbind our potential ally.”

 

The corpse-man quirked an eyebrow.

 

“Are you sure now is the right time?”

 

Helios nodded lightly, “We need to see allies as equals. The bindings were more to expedite his trip here than anything else. Things can be cut off in the warp if your not careful.”

 

Ashe began to undue Kagutsuchi's bindings. The fiery young apprentice lowered himself to the polished floor with a muted grunt. Helios flicked his gaze over to a well dressed, shadowy figure standing behind the oak bar.

 

“Release experimental groups one and two.”

 

The shade's golden eyes narrowed for a split second. “Done.”

 

“Good man,” Helios drew closer to the unbound youth, “So, Fire Bearer, you were denied your rightful place at this year's Architect selection, citing your gung ho “attitude.” Your festive nature has been toned down at every turn, held back, and beaten down by those old fools who support “just” society. You're a man of action, truly a warrior in the arena. You're capable of achieving more than this system has in store for you. I believe you are akin to us in your frustration. Unbind the shackles of such a mediocre fate, and reach towards ultimate freedom and self determination.”

 

In the far distance an unearthly cry and a muffled rumble could be heard.

 

Helios Reign paused thoughtfully. His eyes flicked to the shade once more.

 

“Sunder, release the third group.”

 

“It's done, Reign.”

 

He nods in acknowledgment, continuing, “This is the tipping point. Throw the caste system into the waste bin of history where it belongs.”

 

This time Kagutsuchi smiled. He squared his muscular shoulders and slid his left leg back.

 

“I hear you talking a lot about history, the nature of things, systems and all that junk. Someone told me architects and the Fallen are two sides of the same coin. For all I know, that might be true on some things, but all I see is a person who can't get what he wants and makes excuses. There's no history to that. It's just weakness.”

 

With that he aimed his hand at Helios Reign's mildly surprised face and issued forth an explosion from his hand. The resulting fireball knocked the jaw bone off of Helios' helmet and shook the bar. Knowing the volatile nature of the group's boss, Sunder sucked in a breath and readied himself to either diffuse the situation or warp some part of the explosive apprentice out of the group's vicinity, disabling him. The shadow kept a weary eye between the alert monitor behind him and the situation unfolding in front of him.

 

Helios' amber eyes narrowed in rage, but he steadied himself. Kagutsuchi continued his statement.

 

“I'd rather die with a smile on my face saving one person on the hunt like Captain Orion, than join you guys.”

 

Helios picked up the helmets jaw bone lower half he'd lost and attached it back in place. He shrugged indifferently.

 

“Well, above all,” He turned his back to the young apprentice, “I believe in freedom of choice. If you won't join us, no problem. I'll put you or parts of you to some other use in a Construct.”

 

Helios Reign cracked his knuckles and prepared to strike, Kagutsuchi shifting himself into a fighting stance. The mood of the group changed as they prepared for an aggressive assault. Just then an out of place knock issued from the heavy front door.

 

The group paused in momentary confusion. Sunder's eyes flew wide in panic.

 

“Reign, the first group of Constructs are off the grid.”

 

An ebullient voice rang out, “PACKAGE DELIVERY!”

 

Helios' head jerked towards his shadowy associate.

 

“SUNDER! Warp as many people out of here as can!”

 

Helios Reign rushed forward, in a guarded stance, shifting a small blonde female member behind him, covering some of the others in the room too. A few of the members, including the blonde, were quickly warped out by Sunder.

 

“Shit,” he growled. “That damn architect can't even be serious, when...”

 

The door fractured and caved inward into the room. Ashe, the ghoulish looking man closest to the door, collapsed from the blow like a bag of wet cement. Kagutsuchi took the moment of confusion to blast himself out of the room, while taking a few shots at the surprised Fallen below him, making a hole in the roof above him. The concussive blast killed the hearing of most of the individuals inside the bar. With their ears ringing, the Fallen took up fighting stances and began to trade blows with the peace keeping forces that were now flooding the room. Sunder had warped as many of the members to a predetermined factory field, a fall back place in case things went south. The monitor crackled to life near Sunder. He could hear a familiar deep voice over the static.

 

“Half the district is in flames. Sunder, send Reign to my position.”

 

The coordinates flashed on the screen. At that moment, a navy blur knocked out two more of the members in front of him, one of Orion's hunting crew. Sunder made to turn around, but found his movements restricted by the sudden growth of silky steel threads around him. He surveyed the room, looking for any last minute maneuvers he could manage. He struggled, shifting his misty form. Gaining the least bit of freedom, he turned around, he heard a shout from Helios.

 

“Sunder, release the other Constructs from the factory!”

 

Sunder couldn't sense their presence, so he focused on the other location Deus sent seconds earlier.

 

“They're away from the coordinates! I'm sending you ahead...”

 

Another violent impact rocked the bar. A god like figure dressed head to toe in white and blue armor, rushed into the area with a hard smile on his face, his tattered navy cassock fluttering behind him. His salt and pepper hair stuck slick to his forehead,a blue tinge to his skin flushed with adrenaline and the thrill of the hunt. It was The Architect of the Hunt, Captain Orion.

 

Helios shot the shade a wild look and screamed, “No, stop! What about y...”

 

“It seems like the package delivery was successful. I'm taking you scum out... To the hunter goes the spoils!”

 

Sunder sent out a warp portal to Helios' location leaving a blank spot and empty ropes in his wake as the architect's blow connected to the structure. In another move, the shadow remembered another way point for additional support. There was another jolt, momentarily breaking his concentration, but he caught the last package in mid warp, releasing it. The roof began to collapse inward from the kinetic force of the Captain's punch. The shade turned to face what appeared to be another gray-haired huntsman, decked out in an architect's navy cassock and mask. Upon momentary reflection, he remembered the jagged scar on the Architect's face was named Argent The Architect of Webs.

 

Sunder stretched out his form and went on the offensive summoning a few warp gates to counter silken threads shooting from the architect's body. It was all the more pity he couldn't see that the object hurdling towards him from behind that the architect had grabbed with his threads. The rubble struck him in an unguarded moment upon the back of his inky skull with a thunderous force. In addition, Argent managed to constrict one of the main arteries in Sunder's neck, causing him to black out, but not before hearing:

 

“That's the problem with you Fallen, always an opening.”

 

*****

 

As suddenly as he went down, Sunder found himself laying flat upon the white tile, staring at the halogen lights. The wispiness of his abyssal form flickered. He righted himself, brushing the supposed dust and debris that was on his tailored vest and slacks. To his surprise, he had woken up alone. The shade found himself at the crossroads of a nondescript, clinical hallway.

 

“HELIOS REIGN?” He called out in a hoarse voice. Arbitrarily he picked the right hall and preceded down it.

 

“Ashe?”

 

“Lilian? ...Vertigo? Mr. Materia?”

 

An eerie and oppressive silence pervaded the corridor between Sunder's calls. He preceded carefully, his light footfalls breaking up the din of his calling. Sunder's yellow eyes flickered left and right. The overtly bland nature of the place was unsettling; however, nothing had yet presented itself to him to indicate that this was anything more than a regular building.

 

“Reign,” He called out once more questioningly. “Where have I been sent to?”

 

Sunder ran a misty hand over the surface of the wall.

 

Perfect, not a single flaw.

 

The mist of his form probed for any nicks or wear. There were none. He furrowed his brow and shook his head. He had to find the other members of his crew and regroup. In a coordinated effort, the night was meant to be a psychological blow to the Architects. Maybe this was some sort of “ace in the hole” the other side had that the Anti-Architect hadn't described to him. Sunder was familiar with types of binding and illusions the various Architect groups had at their disposal, but this seemed to tread the lines of unreality.

 

“HEL,” He called out far louder this time. There was no answer.

 

Sunder picked up his pace down the labyrinthine halls. The walls, the lines, the very lights remained the same, corridor after corridor. There seemed to be no sign of anyone else other than himself in alien structure. Within line of sight, he warped through the halls, skipping over the corridors in a blur. It was more of the same. Although Sunder kept his movements level and fluid, a mild thread of doubt began to bloom in his mind. There seemed to be no rationality to this place.

 

“Hel,” he called out, “We need to rally and plan a counterattack! With respect sir, our allies need us!”

 

Something like a groan echoed throughout the hallways. Sunder halted his movement mid warp, stilling his swirling form. Scanning the corridors for movement, he pulled down his mildly rumpled vest and slid into a combative stance. Unseen prickles in the back of his mind began to pick up the movement of another as of yet unknown being. Sunder calmed himself and drew in a breath.

 

“Hel, I hope you fare better than myself and can get to everyone,” He readied a warp portal off of his left hand.

 

He yelled out with cool enthusiasm, “I'm going to enjoy bisecting you cretin!”

 

Black tendrils reached outward from the portal on his left hand. With an aggressive eagerness, Sunder whirled around to strike out at his unseen foe. His portal managed to capture one of the rigid arms of the creature in question. He sent it flying across the room with a loud metallic clatter.

 

It was the arm of an institutional hospital bed. Apparently, the dampeners weren't quite having the proper effect and the head trauma from the bar's debris weren't helping matters.

 

The two police officers that were sent to guard the unconscious Sunder threw back their chairs and readied their weapons. Sunder's form swelled as he readied more portals on the offensive. The first officer was warped up and sent crashing down again from the ceiling of the hospital ward, knocking him out. The second guard managed to fire his weapon, an electrically based weapon with paralytic properties. Due to the shade's lack of focus, the weapon hit true on whatever “meat” lay in in his right leg, causing him to grunt and shift himself through a portal out into the hallway of the hospital. The crew hadn't had time to send the Fallen villain to a proper facility due to the madness that was still unfolding in Yokohama after the collateral damage caused by the battle between Sunder's leader The Anti-Architect Deus and The Architect of the Hunt, Captain Orion. Sunder began to warp himself through the corridors using his line of sight as the panicking crowds swirled around his misty form.

 

A fervent ranting issued forth from the unseen mouth of the angry blackness, his eyes narrowing as he spouted out taunts at an unseen foe. Sunder nearly reached the exit of the ward when the reason for his current predicament, Architect Argent, burst through the door with one of his wounded allies who had quelled the assault. Surveying the situation, the old architect ran a hand through his gray hair. He heaved a sigh, breaking away from the entourage and his injured comrade he ran towards the infuriated black mass. Argent's gray hair fluttered away from his face as readied more thread to pull a metal bench to clobber the misfit shadow with blinding force.

 

“I see once is never enough for you people. Always an opening and no defense.”

 

Once again, another sharp blow was issued to Sunder's skull, rendering him unconscious. Luckily, this time the villain managed to skip the labyrinth and land himself in the dark abyss of being comatose. His body, much the the bafflement of staff, that it had such mass in the first place, was recaptured with with the cuffs he bore and a further collar on his neck. This time, Sunder was sent to the proper facility to deal with higher tier criminals, much in the same direction his counterpart, Helios Reign would too.

 

As Sunder lay recovering in the reinforced maximum security hospital ward, his fate was being debated upon and decided. He personally had no records, but the crimes he committed the Yokohama attacks, kidnapping, collateral damage from various raids were. The shade's “physical” recovery, was dubious due to the lack of available options for treatment. Every time medical staff would try to scan Sunder's body, it would shift in and out focus due to the lack of defined concentration on his part. To the frustration of medical staff, his coherency would slip in and out with each shift too, only allowing him to take in enough resources to stave off thirst or utter starvation. Unfortunately, with the lack of properly defined medical equipment, as with many less actively human in nature talent users, the waiting game had to be played. As soon as Sunder was medically able, he was transferred to his solitary cell, which essentially amounted to a fancier Faraday Cage reinforced block of halogen lit concrete, with the usual bells and whistles for containing more volatile effects of talents or those that couldn't be quite quelled by the genetic dampeners issued to inmates. No further escape attempts would be allowed.

 

Unbeknownst to the Fallen shadow, during his convalescence, his comrades were being interrogated and tried for their parts in the wave of collateral damage that had occurred during the Yokohama Attacks as it were. The most serious offenders were sent to Dis, a high security prison for those found to be too volatile to be housed in other facilities within the zaibatsus. Others on a form of program S-9, under extreme operational prejudice, were matched and sent to be reformed, by newer initiatives to cut down on the growing population. The dust had settled from that humid night, but questions still remained as to the nature of their organization and resource gathering.

 

It was about six months later when Sunder opened his eyes and regained a moderate amount of consistent coherency. Twenty four hours after he spoke his first lucid words, the first investigators came, to get what they could from the shadow.

 

CH 1: Interview with the Eggheads in the Lab

 

The seasons had began to turn outside the walls of Sunder's concrete vault. The initial clean up of the Yokohama Attacks was well under way, bull dozing many of the ruined structures or repurposing the leveled areas into parks commemorating the event. The final battle during that event between the Architect of the Hunt and the Anti-Architect had been the first and one of the most elaborate memorial parks. A beautiful garden had been erected, the blooms now subdued in the winter's coldness. A statue in the center of the facility depicted the most famous scene in the battle, in which Captain Orion and the then winged Deus, hurdling to the earth from on high, and the Captain delivering the final before the could level the district. The two went down in a gout of hellfire, wrecking the Captain's body, an active sacrifice for the good of the people to put down a tyrant.

 

Governing and law officials poured over the data from the nights events. From the various psychological techniques used to lure in recruits, the methods for obtaining money to fund the endeavor, and many of the shell businesses used to house the group's intentions were brought to light. The most curious artifacts from that night were the homunculuses, called the Constructed.

 

The Constructs, creatures with translucent shimmering skin and exposed cerebrums, were monstrous. A warehouse housing all manner of the creatures had been captured that night with stunning success. Although there was little damage to the stock in the warehouse, there was little to indicate the nature of the creatures aside from directly testing them. What came as a result from the testing shocked scientists.

 

The majority of the creatures seemed to bear little in the way of intellect, but their physical attributes were myriad. Many bore regenerative properties and great strength, as evidenced by previous assaults on the Tokyo Zaibatsu the year previous. Others upon further testing might be able to produce fire, acid, or icy waves whilst being airborne. Still others looked like they might have some sort of psionic abilities, like long distance communication, cognitive disruption, or mind control. Creatures bearing markers of psionic abilities were destroyed due to potential volatility. The diagramming of genetic markers made further results more disturbing.

 

Some of the Constructs bore entirely new DNA structures, which while exciting, was somewhat expected by the researchers. The disturbing fact came to light that some of the patterns began to match up to people within the governmental talent registration database. Combinations of DNA from various talent users were found in some Constructs, but the worst were exact matches. It came as a bit of a shock when some of the missing criminals in the underworld and some ordinary people were found to be Constructs too. The conclusion was clear to them; the bleeding edge of genetic research had been employed to manifest this army of things. The rub came when there was no data on how they gathered the massive amount of DNA nor the manner by which they managed to achieve such results. With almost the entire population bearing some genetic talent in modern times, natural variability was enough of a threat without the pure weaponization of talents through massively inflated artificial means. On the other hand, the amount of genetic research could further the overburdened medical field that struggled to bear the brunt of humanity's frenetic genetic drift.

 

Bearing data retrieval in mind, the investigators set up a makeshift interrogation room outside of Sunder's cell. Allowing for the limited space in the small foyer between the armored hallways, a sturdy metal table, chairs, and recording station were set up to conduct the interview. Five people entered the room: a doctor clad in a white coat to ascertain the coherency of the villain's statements and verify data, a younger female Justicar for the Alliance, a dark haired man who served as the main coordinator and interviewer during the spate of investigations into the Yokohama Attacks, and two armed guards. The three officials discussed amongst themselves what they wished to divine from the inmate outside the heavy door.

 

For his part, Sunder drew himself up to a seated position on the cot in his room. The shade blearily stared at the floor, trying to pull together the situation in which he found himself. There seemed to be a ringing in his head. Not good. He felt like someone had backed over him with a truck. Also, not good. His yellow eyes darted around the sterile room. There was metal sink, a small mirror over the sink, a concrete toilet and water fountain, that sat next to a table that was built into the wall. A stationary concrete stool sat in front of the desk. The light appeared to be coming from lights embedded in the floor. It was a change from the halogen lit hallways he had found himself bouncing throughout on so many nights, running. There was no window in the room, but there was a heavy door leading out to what he thought might be a small secure vestibule. To think of it, he couldn't pinpoint where he was currently staying.

 

Going through the locations of training facilities and testing grounds in his memory, Sunder tried to remember one that had secured lock down rooms. It couldn't have been the Western Okinawa Facility or the lab in Vladivostok. Both of those featured open cages in the recovery and housing units for staff and active creatures. He ran a misty hand over the poured concrete wall. The shade reasoned that the walls had to be, at minimum, a couple of feet thick. That left out the European research center.

 

“Of course,” he reasoned out loud, in a hoarse voice, “It has to be the psionics field testing unit in Shibuya.”

 

The use of psionic creatures would definitely explain the thicker walls. It helped keep out mental interference from the general populace. He took stock of himself after this realization. His misty body was covered up in a gray, stained coverall, that come to think of it was scratchy as hell. Too many loose threads, invading the space his body occupied. No, wait, why would they have him there? Why would he be wearing this thing? Had the research lab been running trials again? They had been about to move into testing the third phase of long distance interference with the Constructed. Sunder had helped with testing before at Dues' behest, due to his body's uncannily misty nature. The eggheads in the lab also liked testing the effects of various talents in the warp too. They tested times, effectiveness, and the ease of deployment for the creatures. He shifted his body to the side. It hurt. Had something gone wrong he wondered? It seemed to him that the roll out would have been another month out, after Helios Reign and he scouted that factory in Yokohama to house the Constructs. To that end, where was Helios? It was Sunder's job to look after him and be available to help bring the Anti-Architect's plans to fruition. Reign was coming along more recently as a leader, but his skills still needed to be polished, his frustrations controlled. They'd just gotten more allies other than the ghoul, Ashe, and the small blonde shapeshifter Lillian. The new recruits had to be tested and put through their paces. Compatibility with the Constructed had to be sorted. Why was he in Shibuya? Had they been testing some of the new members?

 

As Sunder's thoughts began to spiral, the solid chunk of the door outside indicated someone was entering the vestibule. He turned jerked his head towards the maroon door as it opened. Two highly forgettable guards clad in plain black uniforms stepped through the door. That seemed consistent with the typical staff at the Shibuya facility.

 

“Stand up and place your hands through the slot please,” one of the guards issued the order in a deep voice.

 

Sunder compiled without resistance. A secondary set of talent dampening cuffs were applied to his wrists, this time with chains. He briefly wondered why there were two sets of dampeners on his wrists, but some of the other facilities had used them to help him condense his form for testing. The shade shrugged the thought off as the trio stepped into the vestibule, where the investigators awaited him. The lights out here still shone from the floor. His head hurt. He wondered how long this would take.

 

Before him Sunder noted the three figures in the room, two men and one woman. Clearly the man with the gray speckled beard, who was seated on the far right, was the head researcher. His yellow eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Was the man's name Umetsuo? It sounded right to him. The female looked familiar too. Sunder remembered her at a few of the creature trials in Europe. It seemed to him the auburn haired woman had gained a little weight, not that it was a bad thing. She was seated in the center and smiled up at him politely. The final man, he looked all business in his suit and dark blue trench coat. The dark hair on his head was clipped short. Was he from the lab? Was the man an infiltrator? He had that look about him Sunder reasoned. He was seated to the left most of all of them, close to a machine that sat against the back wall of the small room. One guard closed the maroon door behind them, as the shade entered the room. He took a post near the back door, while the other took up a position near the other door leading out of the room.

 

Sunder furrowed his brow. This seemed awfully official for a training exercise debriefing. Maybe something had occurred. Had he hurt someone? Did one of the creatures breakout and effect him? His head did hurt. Then there was the matter of this scratchy vestment. Was there the far off possibility he had hurt one of his comrades, even Helios? No, he had to focus. There was no reason to jump to conclusions in light of the lack of information he reasoned. He bowed a little bit to the trio and cleared his throat, who returned the greeting in turn.

 

“Good day, lady and gentlemen. I'm sorry for my lapse of manners, I should have greeted you promptly,” Sunder pulled out the seat in front of him and settled in it, looking to the doctor, “My name is Sunder. I am an associate of our mutual employer Deus. I work mainly in the Tokyo branch. Dr. Umetsuo, was it? My apologies, I regret I don't have the names of your other two colleagues. We've surely met elsewhere, maybe in Europe or somewhere else.”

 

The female Justicar's face still bore the smile with which she had greeted the inmate. Her

eyebrows raised imperceptibly in surprise at the cordial greeting. She glanced between “Dr. Umetsuo” and her trench coated colleague, Senji Koda, a talented empath would be made of use for the interview. Koda shrugged, flipping a switch on the machine next to him.

 

“Well, Mr. Sunder is it? That an interesting name. Is that your last name or...?” She fished inside a bag at her feet, pulling out a pad of paper and a few pens.

 

“No ma'am, that is my only name.”

 

“A mononym,” Senji Koda piped up, shifting to a more comfortable position in his chair, watching the shade's body language.

 

“Okay, Sunder. Well, my name is Naomi Fuji and the gentleman in the trench coat is Senji Koda. We'll just be having a bit of chat and debriefing on some of the events that have occurred lately. We want to make sure that the 'research' group stays up to date on the happenings within the various branches of the organization. Will that be okay with you? We'll just be having a bit of an informal discussion about these things, the state of the Constructed and such.” Naomi smiled at the shade.

 

Sunder nodded his head in agreement, his shoulders relaxing.

 

“Well, good,” she began.

 

Koda cleared his throat.

 

“First thing,” Senji Koda took one of the pens on the table and a piece of the paper, “We need to get a baseline of how much you remember, for comparison's sake.”

 

“How old are you?” Naomi inquired.

 

The shade sat for a second pondering the question.

 

“I don't know.”

 

“Where are you from originally?”

 

“I don't know,” Sunder replied.

 

Koda looked genuinely surprised, glancing over at the doctor, who shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Do you have any family,” Naomi continued her questioning.

 

The shade tilted his head, “In so much as, biological?”

 

Naomi nodded.

 

He shook his head, “Not that I do know, ma'am. I wish I did know.”

 

“You are male, Sunder?” the doctor chimed in.

 

Sunder replied with humor, “Yes sir, as male as any other male I suppose.”

 

Koda seemingly satisfied with the shade's responses, scribbled: He's being truthful, pretty relaxed too. He might think is a debriefing or official response, maybe?

 

Naomi furrowed her brow slightly.

 

“Okay, thank you Sunder. Let me ask you this, so we can verify your long term memory,” she cleared her throat.

 

“Yes ma'am?”

 

“What is the first thing you can remember?”

 

Sunder leaned back in his chair, lost in thought. He remembered his first night in the old neighborhood. “I remember walking down the street on a humid night in Yokohama. Say, twelve years ago?”

 

“In Yokohama, huh?”

 

He nodded, “Yes. The neighborhood has a nice mix of street life in it. I just remember wandering. There is a nice tea house on the upper most part of town, but I didn't frequent it at that point.”

 

“Oh,” Naomi jotted a note down on the paper, “Were you by yourself?”

 

The shade nodded, leaning back in his chair, “Yes, I had no companions then. I remember it being a humid night too. There was... a sound?”

 

“What sound?” Koda asked.

 

Sunder cleared his throat, looking directly at Naomi. “You'll pardon me madam, Ms. Fuji, for saying this...”

 

“No, please, go ahead.” She jotted notes down on the shade's comportment.

 

“It was the sounds of a woman being 'violated' in a most unwholesome way.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yes,” he cleared his throat, “ Not that I could appreciate it at the time, but it didn't seem right. The man-beast, creature, was a great stinking thing. Thoroughly classless. He had her legs splayed open and was inserting all manner of tentacle like objects into...”

 

Koda cut Sunder's statement short, “We get the idea.”

 

The shade coughed and continued hoarsely, “Quite. I took the liberty of relieving him of those objects and that lump of a thing he called an arm with my warp.”

 

Sunder passed a note to Naomi. Old case. That would have been the Yokohama Worm Rapist. He was found at a local hospital after the woman identified him. Both accounts mentioned a 'man eating' shadow.

 

“Did you try to speak to her? Or was anyone else there?”

 

He shook his head. “Speech didn't really occur to me until later. I guess, I just was sort of an empty vessel then, but the actions of that thing didn't seem right...”

 

“And after you interrupted it?”

 

As if to confirm the note Koda had passed, Sunder finished with, “The creature ran screaming. I never saw the lady again. She'd shambled into the night, poor thing. I guess seeing me do that to him would be traumatic enough under normal circumstances...”

 

Sunder coughed, looking at the doctor, “My apologies. Could I trouble you for a glass of water from that pitcher? It feels like I haven't had anything to drink in ages.”

 

“Of course.” He filled a glass and passed it to the shade, marveling as the creature brought it up to what might be considered his mouth and watched the liquid disappear to somewhere, “My thinking with your previous statement, Mr. Sunder, were you aware of your form at that time?”

 

Sunder shook his head, putting down the glass.

 

“No sir, it came as a surprise to me when I passed by some shop front windows. I mean, I had thought it odd that my steps were so light.”

 

“So you have no memories or knowledge as to your previous state, or if you had one?” said the doctor quirking his brow.

 

“No sir. As far as I know, I have always been like this, I mean, I knew I was me.” the shade paused, “My apologies for asking this but, is this line of questioning necessary considering...”

 

Justicar Naomi interrupted with a quick lie, “It 's part of the reason why we're all are here Sunder. There was an incident with one of the Psionic Constructs. We have to make sure everyone is who they say they are and make sure there haven't been any duplicates or false memories implanted in our associates from the general fallout. You understand, right? I'm sorry if this seems like we're beating around the bush.”

 

“Oh, no, no. My apologies, Ms. Fuji. I'll endeavor to answer all of your questions. I just wanted to make I wasn't wasting our collective time.” The shade bowed slightly.

 

Naomi Fuji nodded, “Think nothing of it. That's quite gracious of you.”

 

Koda chimed in, “Speaking of questions, how long did you wander the streets like that? It's to establish a timeline, of course.”

 

Sunder pondered the question. “I'd say six months there about? I remember it had started to snow by the time I'd found that warehouse. I'd parted with a fellow who'd shown me the ropes, so to speak.”

 

“Showed you the ropes?”

 

The shade nodded. “He was a nice fellow. He taught me diction, some basic signs, how to pick a lock. Truly, he was a gentleman.”

 

“A gentleman? Well, what happened to your friend?”

 

“I think he died of a heart attack, as one night I couldn't rouse him.” He shrugged.

 

“You didn't try to get help?” Justicar Fuji asked.

 

“At that point, I didn't know that kind of help existed.”

 

“Moving on to the warehouse you mentioned,” Koda asked, scribbling a note to Fuji, “What happened there? You can take a moment to think of your answer if you need to, Mr. Sunder.”

 

While the shade collected his thoughts, Koda passed the note to the auburn justicar. Reports came in around 12 years ago of a shadow eating criminals. The squad thought it might have been a new vigilante or an urban legend. The reports stopped in a relatively short period of time. Crime had actually dropped by a lot during that point.

 

Koda ran his fingers through his short dark hair. Sunder looked up from his thoughts.

 

“Please, tell us what happened,” said Koda. He took off his navy jacket and hung it on the back of the chair, taking a position to actively listen to the inmate's story.

[Jayme]

Very interesting,  I wonder what will happen with Sunder next?

[doom_doom]

Yeah, not gonna lie got a little dopamine hit from seeing you type out Sunder's name Jayme. I've been having an arse ton of fun writing this. There is gonna be a bit of layout for the characters' reactions, so I hope you like the way they develop.

[Wannatripbaby]

Looks good, man! I don't think I'll be folllwing along since I don't have much reading time in my life right now, but I did link your story to my Discord server with my recommendation. ?

Welcome to the writer's club, buddy. 

[doom_doom]

 

6 hours ago, Wannatripbaby said:

Looks good, man! I don't think I'll be folllwing along since I don't have much reading time in my life right now, but I did link your story to my Discord server with my recommendation. ?

Welcome to the writer's club, buddy. 

Thank you! Sort of an odd drug because my sleep is off on it. Eh well.  Post the next bit before I start going back to revision phases. Sort of a strange drug it is. I hope that I make something tens of people will wanna read because my taste has always been a bit odd, but gotta start somewhere. Lol. Gotta make mental note to catch up on vampire1 story too. Derp derp 

[doom_doom]

Alright, dropping chapter 2 because it's more of a natural stopping point. Anyway, hope the tens enjoy. After this you'll start seeing the time slips and more mention of connections. Let me know how things are going.

Ch 2: Even A Shadow Needs a Little Warmth

 

Twelve years earlier...

 

With the frost of winter settling in, the shadow decided to try and find a warmer dwelling. The threadbare garments the shade found himself wearing did little to keep away the cold or his irritation at the constant stream of threads and debris poking his misty form. It so happened that he'd managed to wander further south in the city towards a series of mostly abandoned industrial warehouses.

 

The boxy structures loomed around him like silent tombstones in the night. Nearing midnight, the shade spotted one of squatter structures to have a thin plume of smoke coming out of the narrow smoke stack on the roof. He knew it might be a gamble, but the promise of nipping into the factory to get out of the cold and possibly get some food or a drink were too great. Carefully, he slid through the murky night towards the back side of the building. He figured, at most, there would be a skeleton crew at this time of night. If he disrobed, the shade knew he could blend into the shadows by stretching himself out thinly. In any sort of real emergency, he could also warp to parts unknown. Over the months he'd realized he had really good spatial reasoning and could warp to exact points by following the threads of those points.

 

He shoved one of his misty hands into a glove and picked up a nearby piece of metal. As the buildings in this area typically had shoddy locks, his plan was to jimmy the lock on the back door. Despite the appearance of some tire tracks, there didn't seem to be any active vehicles in the area. The shade surveyed the area one last time before breaking the lock. He nipped in through the back, closing the door as best he could. Feeling the warmth on his inky form, the shadow stopped and sighed softly. It was good to get out of the cold, if only for a moment.

 

He left the darkened concrete hallway, continuing onto what looked like a series of offices. The area smelled of dust and some sort of solvent. As he turned right down the next hallway, the lights flickered to life. 'Crud,' he thought and grimaced. It would be too bright to hide here, so he ducked into the closest office and pressed himself as flat as he could into one of the more shadowy corners of the room. Much to his bad luck, he heard voices and they were coming towards the office he'd chosen to hide in.

 

“...goods hijacked in route...”

 

“...greater cut..”

 

“...higher grade... gotta take care as not to find...”

 

“...piece of shit... ...boss... snitch..”

 

The shade shifted positions towards the narrow area behind the door. From his position he could see three men lumber in with another man, his head bound up in a sack. He held his breath as one of the gorilla like men threw the smaller fellow into an old rolling chair. The shade saw the man's hands were bound behind him; however, his arms were quickly brought in front of him with a sickening pop. The other man, well dressed in a dark suit and tie, was slightly smaller, with lizard like skin, let out a dry chuckle as he took the seat behind the desk. The other larger man took up a position behind the supposed ”boss”. The man's hair looked pasted on from the amount of gel in it. He smiled a nasty sharp toothed grin at the man in the chair.

 

“So, I see you aren't a complete dumbass, Morro. I mean, you're a complete shit for turning down my offer, the cut would have been more than adequate, but good on you for following up the numbers like that. Truly, Bravo.” He slow clapped the hooded man, Morro, mockingly.

 

Morro let out a muffled grunt. The shade watched quietly as the scene unfolded. The lumbering beast closest to the bound man ripped the hood off of his head. The man had obviously been beaten before they arrived, his overly large amber eyes showing signs of swelling and blood vessels being broken. His head lolled. The giant gorilla man grabbed the other man by his short dark hair and pulled his head upward.

 

“I'm sure the boss will appreciate your loyalty; however, such low level shit? Shit. More of that primer gets lost in freaking shipping than what I take. The cut you can get out of it is just too damn good for the Anti-Architect to horde for himself. I mean shit, a 4000 to one ratio for a couple of grams? Who's gonna miss it? Nobody.” Scaly leaned forward, his eyes becoming cruel slits. “Then again, if a man like yourself turns up dead with a whole load of it, who's gonna suspect me? Nobody.”

 

The thinner gangster flicked his wrist, at his captive, “Goro, take the gag out of our friend's mouth. I really want to hear what he thinks about this.”

 

Goro, the gorilla man, untied Morro's gag. The amber eyed man coughed, his head rolling again, this time towards the shade's direction. His eyes widened slightly at the pair of yellow eyes staring down at him from the corner. The man quickly played it off with a hoarse laugh.

 

“You think a man like Deus got to where he was by running a loose operation? He's not like your typical gang bosses. He'll pull you from the inside out. You're a damn fool to cross paths with anyone like that remotely. You don't think he won't see through that pathetic idea? No wonder why you're still a low level piece of garbage, Scaly.”

 

He preceded to spit, or at least attempt to, in the direction of the lizard like man. The later drew up from his chair with a growl.

 

“You think someone like that is gonna notice? Notice you? Nah, I don't think so.”

 

Scaly crossed the room with intention towards Morro. He kicked the rolling chair back and brandished a knife like claw. The gorilla man stepped back.

 

“Nah, I don't think he'll notice at all.” He preceded to stick one of the claws into the shoulder of the bound man. Morro let out a scream, “Coating my claws with X to increase the pain really was a good idea.” He sunk in another claw into the afflicted man's arm. “It's gonna hurt like a mother and I get to enjoy every scream. Nice!”

 

The shadow shifted position, which now caught the attention of the gorilla man standing in the far corner. The guard named Goro shifted weight to go on the offensive.

 

“Yo boss, what the fuck is th...” The man didn't get to finish his statement before half his head was warped off his body and neatly deposited on top of the other guards head, which caused him to yell in surprise.

 

“What the fuck is...” The other man stuttered as his lower half disappeared to parts unknown.

 

Scaly, seeing the body fall, jerked back, turning quickly to see the shade billowing out from the corner. He readied his poison claws and lunged forward at the mass. The shadow easily dodged the other man's grasp. Coming up with nothing, the suited man turned on his heel to ready another attack. Morro stuck out his foot and pushed off the ground ramming himself into Scaly, sending them flying in different directions. The lizard man pivoted off the desk, trying to upper cut the creature that was attacking him. The shade reciprocated the attack by relieving him of his hand with a portal. Scaly grabbed his hand and screamed.

 

“What in the hell are you...” He question was neatly cut off, much like the top of his head.

The shadow stopped his assault as Scaly's body hit the floor in a clump. There wasn't any blood because the warp had cold burnt them shut. It's definitely something useful for a crime scene, but more so for the occasion quick meal of bird, which he found difficult to eat anyway. The shadow relaxed himself and shifted into a slightly more condensed form. He surveyed the office. The room's contents were strewn asunder and a few new corpses had been created. Oh well. That left one other person in the room other than himself, the still bound Morro.

 

Morro sucked in a breath as the shadow creature thing turned its eyes on him. The wounds that had been inflicted upon him still ached and burned. A blossom of red blood appeared over the puncture wounds on his shirt. The shade drew forward towards the other man, but not before grabbing a handkerchief from one of the well dressed corpse's pockets.

 

With difficulty, the shade managed a couple of phrases in a whispered voice, “...Bleeding. Sorry, didn't stop before...”

 

He proceeded to pack Morro's wounds. The amber eyed man goggled at him in surprise. From the sudden ferocity of the attack, to the sudden shift in attitude, it had the man stumped. The shadow proceeded to search and find a knife in one of the guard's pockets. He cut the rope binding Morro's hands together. His left arm fell uselessly to the side. Morro grumbled. He proceeded to walk over to a wall and slam his left shoulder into it, regaining a bit of control in that hand.

 

“Don't hurt...” the shadow whispered, raising his hands to try and stop the man from hurting himself further.

 

Morro shook his head, showing the now working hand to the shade. “No, don't worry about that, but thanks. I've had way worse.”

 

Morro held his other still bleeding shoulder. He walked over to the well dressed corpse and kicked it.

 

“Dumb bastard didn't think a man whose talent is to be able to tell the exact weight of something wouldn't notice a discrepancy?” He rubbed the back of his head with his left hand, “He always tried to act bigger than he really was... All the fancy suits. All that shit.” He kicked the corpse again and looked over at the shadow. “Hey, you don't have anything right? Why don't you take his stuff. You two should be pretty close if you maintain that size.”

 

The shadow looked down at the suited corpse. He started to take off the jacket and noticed the immediate difference in quality between the things he had been wearing and the suit. The shade stripped the suit from the corpse and put it on. Despite the circumstances of how he acquired his outfit, he felt a surge of well being and pride from being in his new outfit. He bent down once more and picked the dark tie Scaly had been wearing off the floor. The shade looped it around the neck of the shirt with the realization that he had no idea how to tie it properly.

 

Morro looked over the shade's newly dressed figure. He gestured at the shade's feet, “Don't forget shoes. Never let Italian leather go to waste.”

 

The shade sat down and slipped on the already tied shoes. The weight on his feet felt odd after having been “barefoot” for so long. It was then he heard the rumble of motors outside the building. Morro looked over at the door, straightening himself up.

 

“Wanna know the real irony of this shadow man?”

 

The shade shrugged.

 

“That dumb bastard, Scaly,” he kicked the now naked corpse again, “He didn't remember that the boss was coming out tonight to inspect the shipment. How in the hell do you forget that? I ask you, but then again, he's had his head so far up his ass for so long he probably went dumb from the fumes.”

 

Morro laughed. The shade quirked his brow and hoped nobody could really do what the amber eyed man had said with their buttocks. Morro snapped his fingers as if coming to a realization.

 

“Hey! I know! I need to get you introduced to the boss! The whole warpy thing,” Morro gestured to the corpses, “That's pretty neat and I know he likes interesting talents. And the shadow thing? I bet he'll like you. You're really... you.”

 

He shambled towards the door, leaving the shade confused as to what to do. Morro turned back to the shade, motioning for him to sit, “Just wait here for a second. When things get situated, I'll see if the Boss is interested and he'll probably send somebody.”

 

Morro disappeared down the hallway, leaving the shade to weigh his decisions. He could try to sneak back out through a different entrance, but that was no guarantee. Other options included getting a good line of sight and taking himself outside the place via warp. Again, he hadn't noticed very many windows. The best course of action he told himself, was to sit and wait. He fiddled with the tie around his neck until a different man, with an expensive looking trench coat, came to the door.

 

“Come with me,” the gruff voice said.

 

The shade followed the looming figure down the hallway towards what he guessed was the main floor to the warehouse. Looking around the area, he could see figures milling about on the catwalks above him. No, there were no windows in this place. The figure in front of him stopped, paying some sort of respect to a man seated in the center of numerous shipping crates upon a sturdy wooden chair. Form how the man presented himself, the shade could have supposed it was a throne.

 

The man seated leisurely upon the chair exuded power. His suit was the darkest shade of black the shadow had seen anywhere in his wanderings. He looked powerful, well muscled, but not overly so. The angular features of his face seemed chiseled out of fine stone, timeless, employing a mixture of wisdom, intensity, and a hint of malice. The man's eyes were equally as sharp, like two blue diamonds, no detail escaping his vision. If the shade had to pinpoint a single concept from the man's demeanor, it was that he was a leader. A capable and important leader.

 

When Morro's voice rang out from the periphery of the group, it momentarily startled the shade.

 

“That's the guy right there, Boss. He stopped Scaly and his goons with that warp talent of his.”

 

“Is that so?” the man's crisp clear voice seemed to carry throughout the entirety of the warehouse.

 

The imposing man, Deus the Anti-Architect, languidly rose from the battered chair he'd made into a throne with his presence. He strode over to the suited shade and seemed to study him intently. The shade felt sort of stripped to his soul under the man's pounding gaze, so he did what felt natural to him, what his old friend had taught him. Politeness in the face of most situations was the better alternative than crass dialogue. The shade bowed formally to the Anti-Architect, coughing as if to clear out the cobwebs from his throat.

 

“My apologies for not greeting you before sir. Yes, sir, I am the man Mr... um. Morro described to you. I can use some sort of,” he whispered dryly, “Spatial warp.” The words rolled off of his tongue awkwardly.

 

Deus regarded the shade, seemingly studying him with further intensity. He noted the undone tie around the shade's neck.

 

“Thank you for your respectful greeting, shadow. So many young people nowadays seem to have forgotten the importance of manners.” The Anti-Architect touched the shade's shoulder, “Straighten up. You seem to be a man of class, but I see that you look a little undone. Do you know how to tie a tie, son?”

 

The shade shook his head. Deus took the sides of tie and set them so. “This is a nice dark silk tie, son. I'm going to show you how to tie a Full Windsor knot. It's from a time before our current malaise. It shows you are a man of power and goes well with gentlemen that have more powerful builds or facial features...”

 

He took the sides of the tie and narrated how to tie it, giving the shade a clap on the back when he finished. The Anti-Architect flashed the shade a smile that was surprisingly kind, despite the hint of malice.

 

“Do you have a name, shadow?”

 

“With regret sir, I do not.”

 

Deus raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised at that statement. “Well then, how about, as a reward for your first task, I'll give you a name. I'll even throw in a place to go with it if you're able to complete these piddling errands.”

 

After months of wandering around aimlessly, the idea of a home and an identity sounded like manna from heaven to the shade. He nodded in agreement.

 

“Great. Falco, bring me the coordinates for the drops.” Another trench coat wearing man handed the Anti-Architect a sheet of paper, quickly moving back in line. “Now then, I need you to run down the list in order from top to bottom, and bring these cargo containers to the coordinates on the paper. My associate here,” gesturing to the man who gave Deus the paper, “ will call to confirm each one has been received. Tell me that you understand my instructions.”

 

Deus handed the paper to the shade and dialed the phone for the first drop off. The shadow glanced at the paper and nodded his head, “I understand. Move those crates to the coordinates and await confirmation before proceeding to the next.”

 

The shade read the coordinates for the first drop to himself. He then studied the cargo containers stacked before him. It didn't take long for an inky portal to completely swallow the pile of shipping crates. For the shade, finding the destination was like pulling chords that wrapped around the entirety of space. There were a lot of them, but if you could name the correct one, it was like following a painted path bathed in flood lights to an exit.

 

A moment later, the man's voice holding the phone spoke up, “Yes sir, the warehouse in Tokyo confirms the deliver made it. The foreman sounds a little freaked out though, sir.”

 

The Anti-Architect allowed himself a satisfied chortle, putting his hand on the shade's shoulder, “Move on to the next one.”

 

“Yes sir.”

 

The shade knocked every order out in succession, pleasing Deus greatly. He felt pretty pleased with himself too after executing the tasks on the list.

 

“Now then, you have a pretty good distance for warping. All the way to Hokkaido. My, my. There are a couple of other tasks I want you to perform for me. I'm going to get one of my men to pull up a researcher from our Tokyo Lab on video conference call. I would like you to bring him here, placing him four feet over from that support over there.”

 

The shade scrutinized the distance from the pole. The dimensions of the area were simple enough. He began to put a thread out towards his end point. Secondly, he focused on the position of the man on the phone. Searching, he seemed to grab a hold of where he thought the researcher was. A very startled man in a lab coat stepped out of the swirling void a few moments later.

 

“Okay, shade. Now that our man is here, I want you to send him back to his previous position.”

 

The shade nodded and pulled the threads again. The man reappeared on the video conference call, flustered but no worse for wear.

 

“Once more, I want you to bring him here, but Falco, I want you to tell him cross the street before I let the shadow try transporting him to the previous coordinates.”

 

The gangster confirmed the scientist had moved. Once again, the shadow tried to pull the man through. He couldn't make a connection. It went dead at the end. A little worm of panic began to wiggle around in his guts as he couldn't find the point of origin.

 

Sensing the shade's rising discomfort, Deus signaled to the gangster to terminate the call. He clapped the shadow on his back. “Good, good. You've done quite well. So, coordinate based warping? That really is a useful talent you have, son. Are you sick of me calling you that yet? Son? It sounds a bit trivial, hm? We're moving past bland trivialities aren't we now? How about we give you a name now?”

 

The shade felt the tension leave his body as he began to relax. “A name?”

 

“Yes, a name,” Deus rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “After seeing the nature of your talent and well, your unique state, how about Sunder? Yes, I think that fits quite well.”

 

The Anti-Architect pulled out a pen from his suit and drew the name for Sunder on the sheet.

 

“Now that we have a name for you, we'll have to see about getting you set up with some quarters in Tokyo. Mmm, there will be training, tailoring, and we'll see what possibilities that talent of yours opens up. Come along now, Sunder.”

 

Sunder followed behind Deus as he left the warehouse, straight into a waiting black vehicle. It became the start of his new life transporting goods and enforcing measures for the Anti-Architect.

 

Sunder finished the retelling of his tale, once more sipping the water in front of him. He rubbed the side of his head with his arm. The ringing was getting worse, but he brushed off the feeling.

 

Koda tapped the piece of paper he had been working on. Justicar Fuji brushed aside her auburn hair as she briefly glanced at it. He said he worked in transporting goods for the Anti-Architect. Maybe we can work off of that. There might be more to how or what they used to gather the Constructed. We had some of the manifests, but they lead to nothing after the initial factory.

 

Justicar Fuji smiled, “Well, it seems like your long term recognition checks out. That's good. A lot of the heavily affected associates couldn't remember anything past two weeks ago.”

 

The doctor cleared his throat, “I notice you keep on touching the right side of your head. Is something wrong?”

 

Sunder shook his head, “Not really, a bit of minor ringing, some ghosting.”

 

The doctor nodded continuing, “That's better than a lot of the associates have been fairing. You're lucky.”

 

The doctor reached under the table and pulled out a copy of some of the documents found at the factory site. He noted the date was a seven months prior to the finish of the Yokohama Attacks. He shuffled through the papers, taking a stab in the dark.

 

“Seeing that you've possibly been in contact with the N-59 project, I wanted to ask you about the housing protocol for the creatures. The latest strains of the Constructed appear to be redoubling, becoming too volatile, hence why you're here currently, Mr. Sunder. The Boss (the word sticking on his tongue lightly) wanted to assure that the batches were being properly harvested and stored. It's only a month out until the timeline's launch date, so we need to iron out the bad strains before we can employ them in a setting outside of the lab.”

 

Sunder's eyes widened. He hadn't heard of an error in the sampling protocol since the 'cancerous' strain that was contained about three years ago. The researchers had to chose another DNA protocol. While the talent allowed for instant and easy defensive hardening, it clashed with a few of the other talents some of the afflicted Constructs possessed. The creatures kept hardening and expanding, causing damage to the facility in which they were housed. The Constructs were incinerated to destroy any residual DNA and the area was decontaminated. The collection facility where the bad strain had come from was actually a semi legitimate fertility clinic where they did talent mapping in Shinjuku. The money from the venture was a benefit that came with the harvesting of the genetic material. Thanks to the subtle influence of the Anti-Architect, young couples had taken to genetic mapping in the hopes to avoid what they called a 'zero pregnancy,' wherein two talents were completely incompatible and the fetus aborted, or were too dangerous for the mother to bring to birth.

 

Sunder sighed. “My apologies, I've since been busy with other ventures. I can direct you to where you can find the strain database to crosscheck the donations and facilities. Actually, it's in Shinjuku, The Star Fertility Biometrics Lab. If you check with the head researcher, she should be able to tell you where the N-27 Construct is. They run the strains through the biological computers there. The creature is a little temperamental, but you'll find the speed of access to be more than adequate. You might even find your query has been answered before you even get there.”

 

The doctor scribbled down the shadow's comments and laughed. “Thank you. We'd eliminated two of the other sites, but you know how the competition between labs gets.”

 

Sunder nodded affirmatively. “I've been through some of the trials between different labs. Nothing says weaponized intelligence like a horde of acid spitting genetic nightmares.”

 

The doctor raised an eyebrow.

 

Sunder shrugged. “No offense, I mean genetic nightmare in the most positive way possible. There's nothing like having a psychological edge over your opponent. Our business is tough.”

 

Koda slid a note over to the Justicar. Wrangle your tech department. I'll get the manpower to back you. Pick up the doctor's line of questioning.

 

Justicar Fuji nodded, shuffling the paper into the stack in front of her, “Yes, with the way things are nowadays. It's hard to stay ahead of genetic trends while trying to thin out other populations.”

 

Sunder looked at the stack of papers in her hand. “Ms. Fuji, not to be rude, but what have you two been passing notes about?”

 

“My associate and I are trying to coordinate dates as to the last shipments of Constructs, to narrow down the bad strain. I'm sorry, that's rude of me.”

 

'This has to be a put on,' she thought. 'Or else, the blow to his head was more severe than we thought? His condition was tentative at best for a long time. If he's being this cooperative, we might be able to dig up the rest of the channels through which the Constructed came in from. It's a pity we can't keep him here longer for more intelligence, unless...'

 

“May I see those documents, Ms. Fuji?” Sunder held out his bound hands openly.

 

She fished the remaining papers found in the factory with dates preceding a month before the attacks. Naomi handed the papers to the shade. He gave them a critical eye, stopping on one set of lines.

 

“The project you mentioned, N-59? There is another one after it. This diamond here marks it for something highly experimental, seemingly sent for … it looks like the Hokkaido Region? It looks like they might have been sent together. If they were, you might have had some sort of cross contamination of a sort occur. It's highly unlikely, but, that will be easier to verify once you go to the lab and do some cross checking.”

 

He handed her back the papers, which she tucked away in her valise.

 

Smiling, Justicar Fuji turned towards Koda. “My partner and I need to contact some of our associates to organize the data collecting effort. Could you please finish briefing Dr. Umetsuo on what sort of contamination might have occurred?”

 

The shade nodded. His head throbbed intensely, the change in his body language being obvious.

 

Before leaving Koda turned around, “Would you also go over any other residual symptoms with the doctor too? We need to gather data on the effects of N-59 on a variety of actors before we decide a proper course of treatment for the afflicted.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Senji Koda picked up his trench coat and pushed in his chair. Justicar Fuji picked up her bag and pulled out her phone, making to call her other “associates.” The guard let them out of the singular cell into the facility grounds outside of it, contained in a separate building from the main prison.

 

Fuji called her people at the same time Koda phoned the task force he worked with. The joint effort would be coordinated in a couple hours time.

 

“I think we may have struck upon something worth far more than we could have hoped for,” Fuji slung her bag over her shoulder, “Was everything he said truthful?”

 

Koda rubbed his chin thoughtfully, “I believe everything Sunder said. I would dare say he was even sincere. Although, I have to say, I'm pretty sure the doctor will say there are some health concerns. That may or may not block some of the testimony.”

 

“Here's a thought. What if I could get him in under an order of S-9? First, he seems to have strong ties to the Anti-Architect, which is of interest. Second, his injuries would be of interest to some of the treatment programs I know of, so medical grounds might be in his favor. Third, from his comportment, I think he would do well with that sort of realignment. From the video I watched before the interview, while he seems to have a vicious streak in combat, I think he's better rounded than some of the other candidates I've seen float through.”

 

“You're thinking of him packing the wounds of that criminal in his story?”

 

She nodded.

 

“I would say it's a possibility. There'd still be a thorough psychological evaluation. Then there is the whole matching process... If we hadn't had the volunteers for some of the other candidates, they would have been stopped. I only served as a partial adviser, but I think we might be able to angle something.”

 

Fuji turned towards the exit, “I'll file it if the raid pans out. I can think of a possible placement...” She pondered. “Either way, we should probably keep him in isolation because there is going to be a lot of blow back. Hopefully, this will turn out to be good intelligence.”

 

Koda nodded in agreement. At that moment, the doctor left the cell's enclosure.

 

“There's definitely some sort of cognitive interruption. I think it would be useful to deploy the use of some aerosol protocols given his physical nature to help treat the delay. We'll monitor for any other reactions in the meantime.”

 

“Hey doc,” Koda asked as he escorted the doctor out, “How quickly do you think you can arrange for a psych evaluation for inmate Sunder?”

 

“I could do it as soon as tomorrow night.”

 

Koda nodded, exiting the building with his colleagues. While the investigators left to coordinate the raid on the biopharmaceutical lab, Sunder was ushered back into his isolated cell. He fell into a dull sleep with the aid of of an airborne sedative that issued from the hidden floor vents. The night's hunt would bear fruit for the investigators and further push the shade's fate down one of life's darkened roads.

 

[CDfm]

This is interesting for sure. I think you are doing a fantastic job writing this. It is very discriptive for sure. Almost to discriptive at times. In places it almost became hard to follow along. I think some of the different names of both people and places also made it a bit harder to follow as well. That became easier the more I read, just becoming more familiar with the characters helped a lot. I am looking forward to reading more.