"Is this really the depths of your resolve, boy?"
"Don't even. And don't call me that. I'm still your superior."
"You sure act like it."
"Why are you doing this? Didn't you want to work together?"
"This is exactly why. I want to see what I'm working with."
"Yeah, well. You should've planned that out better."
"Maybe."
The Father was enjoying the sting of the liquor hitting his lips as much as the swindling words that were coming out of them. James, on the other hand, couldn't enjoy this bitter taunt less.
"Doesn't fucking matter. I said I was gonna help, so I will."
"Good."
"He wants me to visit his factories. Some shit about late deliveries."
"Peculiar."
"Yeah. He never had me do anything with that before. He usually handles all of that himself. Don't even remember the last time I went to the City."
"He values you."
"Or this is a coy."
"You think?"
"Oh, you know it is."
"It is quite the coincidence. Right as we engage in investigating him, the doors open."
"This is gonna be bad."
"Want a bodyguard?"
"It's not about wants or needs at this point. I can't show up with a third party."
"You always can."
"And blow up our cover?"
The mobster's nonchalant demeanour had depleted. He rested his glass on the counter of his large, lustrous wooden desk, leaning forward in his large carved throne. His restless fingers were unknowingly reaching for the reassuring feeling of the cold gold of his cane, resting on the surface of his bureau.
"We have no cover, James. He knows we're onto him."
"Then what's the point?"
"The point is that he underestimates us."
"That's nothing new."
"Indeed. It's time to change things up. Time to push his limits."
"Easy to say when I'm the one on the front lines."
"While he underestimates us, we overestimate him."
"Do we?"
"He has no power over us."
'Over you. You. Not me. I'm not enhanced."
"That's why I'm offering you a bodyguard. This is the pinnacle of our enterprise here, boy- … James. Your insight. Your leverage. Your position. My resources. My funds. My firepower."
"Hmm."
"His cunning only goes so far in the face of absolute power. Power he created."
"Then why not kill him? You have a whole damn crew. Why do this… this scheming? Just kill him."
"I can't. Not yet."
"Why?"
The tall man's eye flashed with a craze for a moment. His sweaty palm violently slammed onto the varnished wood, unintentionally closing the distance between the two of them, his tie now pushed against the surface of the desk.
"You can't act on impulses. The goal isn't just to get rid of him. The sooner the better? Sure. But think of it that way. What will happen if we do take him down as you propose? What do you think your friend Adam will do?"
James backed off in silence, knowing all too well the answer. Mob made use of that momentum.
"We'd only get rid of the flesh, not the idea of him. He has an entire community under him. Pilgrims ready to die for him. "
"Don't you too?"
"No. I have hires. Angry soldiers. Revoltists. He has worshipers. You'd be mistaken to think we have the upper hand. Sadly. Even after his fall, we'll be outnumbered."
"We'd have mostly Super Soldiers on our side."
"Oh, James. Don't humour me. A full-on war between us soldiers and Doc's men would be devastating. For everyone. But no matter how strong we are, in the end, we'd lose. I'm confident in my intel. But even I am stumped when it comes to the true depths of Doc's arsenal."
"It might be a sacrifice we'd have to make."
"A sacrifice you would be willing to make, James?"
"I- …"
Rose's gentle face flashed in the back of his mind. Something that never happened before. The deal's changed now.
"All of this is not even taking into account the fated satire that I need him alive. For a while at least. I won't be able to take over the entire Lab under my care without him and his knowledge. Because yes. He has all of humanity under his care. While his methods are cruel and quite ironically against humanism itself, he is still quite the leader. And I need that edge. So for now. He lives."
"I strongly believe you are miscalculating this. For someone who thrives on smelling fear in others, you seem quite scared yourself. You say he underestimates his soldiers, but you seem to underestimate them all the same. Soldiers would win. At a cost. But they would win."
"I hope we never have to find out."
"This will be the end of you, Mob."
"Really now?"
"Look. I don't like you. You don't necessarily like me either. I wouldn't wish your death. But waiting too long, giving him time, will kill you."
"As your naivete and recklessness will. Guess we'll get to talk about it in the afterlife."
James sighed.
"Fuck. I'll need the Dons. All of them."
"We'll see about that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"And I told you. It's not because I drink that I'm drunk. So stop calling me that."
"But. You are. Drunk, Drunkie."
The squad didn't even need to place an order. The bartender had already prepared their drinks before they got here. Proof of their loyalty to the place. Or to their habits.
"Denial won't get you anywhere, man."
"No. You know what. I'm done with this. You guys always give me shit. Why are you still acting surprised at this point? You know I like to drink. Joke's over now, losers. Find something more original."
"... Damn."
"That's actually pretty valid."
"No yeah, that's- yeah."
"My bad Drunkie."
"Again!? What's up with these name things anyway?"
"Well, they used to be pretty common before. I'm pretty sure the city folks are still using them. But I think they're different? Somehow?"
"What do they sound like? I'm sure it's some fucking bullshit."
"Emy."
…
"What?"
"T- That's um… A Name. A real name. M- My. … Name."
Savvy died inside.
"..."
"..."
She felt as if a lethal malady plagued her. Never did her soft skin ever feel that much heat coming from underneath; a warm blush colouring even the tips of her ears.
"..."
"Sorry. D- Don't mind me. I forgot I had something to do. I'll see you tonight."
After what felt like an eternity to the natal Insider, Rouge suddenly rushed down the rest of her glass and awkwardly left the counter and walked out of the bar. Savvy closed her eyes. She couldn't look back.
While they all knew deep down that she wasn't one of them, they never spoke it into existence. As long as it stayed a thought, it never meant any harm. She broke that. It was time. On this random day. At this random instant. Pretends could not hold any longer.
"What does it mean?"
It took a while before Jab got an answer out of her. She was lost in her head, processing everything at a rapid pace. Overthinking it all.
"W-what?"
"Um.. E-my you said? What's that?"
She looked at him, her vision blurry from the tears that were emerging on their own. She could still decipher his silhouette. Looking away from her. Nervously. He was trying his best to save the situation, even through his clumsy social dexterity and lack of communication skills, he wanted to help.
While panic was slowly creeping up, his earnest and honest attempt to aid her soothed her heart, currently beating recklessly, her breath failing to follow it. She sniffled and rubbed her palms on her face, trying to swipe away the flowing tears she failed to control.
"I-It's not a… Thing. It doesn't mean anything."
"What?"
"Names. Um… They're not like ours- Yours. Doc gives titles. Tags. Representing a function. As if that's all you were. A means to an end. Objectifying your value. B- But that's not what names used to be. Or are supposed to be. Names are unique. It is given to you. In a tender act of love. But your name doesn't give you meaning. It's the other way around. You give your name meaning. You live to make something out of it."
"Huh."
"Well, that's exactly what I've been doing all this time! I think I'm a genius!"
Spike's uplifting nature served its purpose.
"You might as well be."
"Ain't no way."
"Like you would know, Drunkie."
"You know. I might like Blondie better."
"Really?!"
"Well. It's just. It's a weird thing. Someone else gives you a name. Be it a parent. Or. … Him. But. Why is it we can't choose for ourselves?"
"Yes! That's what I'm saying!"
"And so. If I at least had the choice. I'd rather have the name you gave me, Smiley. Rather than his. Or my par- …"
"What were they like?"
"Hm?"
"Your parents."
"I- Maybe um.. Not tonight. Sorry…"
"N- no itt's-. I'm sorry."
"No, it's ok. Some other time."
"Right."
"What about yours, Drunkie?"
"Mine?"
"Yep. If you're going to ask her, you should be ready to answer, too."
"Ok, now."
"No, no. She's got a point. We want to know."
"I don't spill anything until the drinks spill. Pay up, ladies."
"Oh, you wish."
Emy quickly moved away from Rouge's odd departure, now embraced by normality again. Something she thought she would lose if she ever spoke up. A slight guilt lingered in her to even dare doubt her friends.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"He's literally doing it right now. Again. What is wrong with him?"
"What isn't?"
"For fucks sake. Here I thought I fucked your boss over by forcing him to rent me you fuckers."
"You wanted all the Dons. Here we are."
"Yeah wel- God- Frostbite just stop touching everything. This is a goddamn order!"
"Oh, Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. Relax, man. It's not like you can order me around. I've never been to the city before. This is sick, dude!"
Frostbite was having the time of his life, to the detriment of James' blood pressure. Pressing his face against any windows he could reach, running his fingers across every rail. The warm lights illuminating the vast inner city were shining upon this group of misfits as they made their way to their objective.
The various inhabitants paid them very little attention, busy with either their assigned function or their frivolous activities. The asymmetry of the large building stemming from the ground matched perfectly with the random paved routes and staircases scattered across this rich metropolis, their combination giving it a weird symmetry.
"I'm staying here now. This is my new home."
"Shut up, Frost. You'd get bored immediately."
"That's what you think, Alloy. But there's so much to discover. To do. Imagine all the drinks we never got to taste!"
"True. Go on. I'm listening."
"And the Pleasure Cathedral. Imagine all the bitches."
"Also true. I could have some fun with a cute girl."
"You both shut the fuck up right now."
"Or what?"
"I'm serious."
"Why? You know that side of town better than us. I heard you kept their log quite busy at some point."
"I said. Shut. Up."
"Alright, alright. Come on, guys. Listen to the guy. We're on duty here, remember?"
Scope finally decided to intervene.
"Whatever."
"Why you always acting like you the group leader or something?"
"Want to step up then, Frost?"
"Hmm. Nah. Not my thing. Only when it's time to fight."
"Right. That settles it then."
"All of you. Just. Keep going."
The holographic image spurring from his bracelet was steadily directing him where he needed to go, now entering narrow back alleys. Without the help of his materialized numerical map, these hallways and staircases would be a nightmare to navigate.
However, staying on course, he rapidly led his group to an open space. At the back, two giant sealed doors stand tall.
"There it is."
"Stay close."
"Scared, buddy?"
"Terrified. I'm not juiced up like you fuckers. That's why you're here. Now focus and do what you're paid to do."
"Ok, ok. Sheesh."
The suited man cautiously approached the ominous entrance. He slowly reached his hand towards the cold metal, abruptly stopping. A heavy sigh stopped his approach. He wasn't ready yet. However, the doors did not care. Making him flinch, the hatch opened with an echoing rattle.
A rather frigid draft of wind blew through his dark air as the slit kept getting bigger. Before his trembling irises, James could do nothing but bear witness to it.
A factory. Or a circus. It was all the same. Hundreds of men walking. Working. Carrying crates. Notepads. Pushing floating carriages. Some of them operating digital monitors, propelling dexterous robotic tools. All for the same purpose. Lethal manufactures.
"This is…"
" A gun forge."
By the thousands. Firearms were being produced. By the millions, ammunition. One thing stood out even more than all of this. Masks. All the workers were wearing masks.
"What the fuck?"
Frostbite was caught off guard, too.
"Who are those freaks?"
It didn't take long before someone came to greet them.
"Reason for your visit?"
"Oh. Huh."
Doc's subordinate glitched for a quick instant. Then, he swiped his hand over his wristband. The masked silhouette then immediately received a quick brief through his, now caught up on the situation. Suddenly, a deep voice travelled from further back.
"Leave them to me."
"Yes sir."
Most of the people present are wearing white masks. All of different shapes. All asymmetric. All unique. However, the one from which this rather masculine voice appeared gleams with a lustful golden finish.
They seem to be the only one with a gold visor. But not the only one carrying a large firearm.
"James. I was waiting for you."
"R- Right."
"But them…"
The hidden figure barely moved his head to the side, seemingly staring at the three bodyguards standing behind the tall man. The mouth of his large gun was subtly shifting in their direction
"Safety."
"Right. Well, here's the data you need."
The veiled man mimicked James' earlier movement and sent him the information he needed to retrieve. Quickly, he skimmed through it. Until he had seen enough. He closed his eyes and dropped his head down, nodding solemnly.
"I can show you around."
"No. We're leaving."
"What? Come on! We have to loo-
"We're leaving."
The Don caught a glimpse of James' stare from behind. It wasn't a suggestion. Or an order, even. That was it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The night was quiet. At least it was for everyone else. But not for him. It never was. Not anymore. And it never will again. This is a grief he isn't ready to process yet. How could he?
Mute had found this spot, however. Seemingly far away from most clusters of voices. Deep within the Foundation's blueprints. A lost hallway now turned into a safe haven.
Oh. I- Sorry. I didn't mean…
The soldier flinched. This was unprecedented. While he could hear and sense virtually anything, he did not hear her approach. Not that Wig was being specifically sneaky. She wasn't. He was just lost in his thoughts. Memories, rather. Memories he'd rather forget, yet couldn't run away from. He found it strangely comforting, however. The idea of losing a sense of space and time. Escaping.
They both stayed silent for a long time before the Commander spoke up, nervously rubbing her arm.
"I can leave. If you'd prefer that."
No, it's ok.
"I just… Like to come here. At night. I just haven't had the time in a while. It's calm. It calms me."
Me too.
"When my dreams uh.. Stop being dreams anymore. And turn into something else. Something… Scarier."
I know.
"I'm sorry. For, you know."
She glanced at his bandaged head.
"But I'm sure you're tired of people being sorry for you, so."
I don't deserve concern.
"I say it's calm, and here I am just talking. I can stop. If you'd like."
Please don't.
"I'm just not really good at it. The talking, I mean. It's always been like that. Since I was a kid. It's gotten worse, too. Somehow."
Same.
"Thought it would get better. But it never did. I got these in exchange, though, so, haha."
She slightly lifted the heavy locks of hair falling off to her side.
"I uh.. I might not be the best when it comes to holding conversations, but that also made me a good listener. Well, I like to think so."
I'm sure you are.
"If you ever wanted to… I can.."
I wish.
"I- Didn't mean to be sarcastic. I- I didn't forget. I just."
It's ok.
"I can help you. If you need help. Maybe you don't need help. Or maybe you do, just not mine. I'm sorry for assuming you do.'
I do.
"It's just. Being quiet for so long. And keeping to myself. I learned to read people. Usually, I'm pretty accurate with what I notice in people. And uh.. You look. Deeply saddened. So I just… thought I'd offer you. If you want.
I'd like that. If only.
"I could listen to you. With these. If you wanted to do that. I- I know it's weird. I'm sorry. It's creepy. I- I'm creepy."
You're not.
"I just thought you'd like to be able to share your thoughts with someone. Since it's probably been a while."
I would.
"It- It wouldn't really be like talking, but. I'd be able to see your emotions. Your thoughts. Some of your memory. B- But only what you want me to see. Well. What your mind, or your heart. Allows me to see. I- I know it's scary. A- and very intrusive. So I understand why you wouldn't want to do that. I was really just offering. Just in cas-"
The young man gently reached out his hand to her, solemnly accepting her assistance. Accepting help.
"O- Oh. O- Ok. I- … Just relax. You won't feel a thing."