Broker

PROLOGUE

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Each step down the stairs echoed in the narrow space as three figures descended into the depths. The walls were damp and gray, blocks of stone stacked upon one another centuries ago. He recognized the style, and could even rattle off when this particular type of subterranean architecture had begun being used in this region. Fun facts. Little details. He ran his fingers over the wall as he descended, brushing against one of the old light fixtures. Iron. Lovingly curved at the neck with a worn, empty slot where the candle would have gone. It had been added over a century after the stairwell itself was built.

His eyes drifted away from the architecture to the steps beneath his feet as his thoughts drifted. He’d been in his own head a lot more recently, something he would never admit to those around him. Ever since Vegas, if he was being honest. The guide had been helpful as a tool, but every single time he’d used it to create long-term plans, they’d blown up in his face. Now the guide was lost for the time being, useless to him. All because of her, he thought darkly. I need to start being more careful. Lashing out at the Cassiopeia girl and framing her for Liberty’s murder won’t stick for even a day, and even if it does hurt her reputation, it’s basically me admitting that I did it to Ishtar.

His lips twitched up into a smile. But will she do anything about it? Her little spy is so close to Miss Chernovna now. I wonder if that was her plan all along. Is it something I can take advantage of? He rubbed his chin. Perhaps not through her directly, but her friends… maybe.

He tilted his head. If she’s a spy for Ishtar, why hasn’t she tried to tell Chernovna that I’m an enemy of the world?Not enough evidence? Perhaps. Was that why it took so long for Sonya to sign me with ASTA? 

His thoughts trailed off as he alighted on the landing, the long stairwell coming to an end. An old wooden door was the only obstacle between him and his destination. He jerked his chin, and one of the two following him stepped forward. Felwinter, with her blue-black hair and cold, merciless eyes, approached the door with her hands stuffed into her leather jacket. The short pleated skirt, thick leggings, and boots made up the rest of her ensemble. She raised a hand to the door and closed her eyes, a faint whisper reaching his ears. A hissing breath. Murmurs in the dark.

“Two souls, as agreed,” she said.

“Good,” he muttered, and turned to his other companion. Riot looked worn down, his eyes sunken and red, faint streaks from tears marring his face. His messy brown hair was even more askew from where he’d pulled at it earlier. He wore a bland white dress shirt and brown slacks, a brown coat over his shoulders to stave off the chill that Felwinter carried everywhere she went. The only thing truly unsettling about the beaten-down Herald was the eerie half-smile that never seemed to go away.

Riot’s eyes flicked up and met his own before his head moved, and he stared back. “Yes, Majesty?” He asked with a hollow voice that didn’t quite match his rictus facial expression.

You killed her a few hours ago. Get over it, he thought dismissively. He was past the stage of breaking Riot down into something he could mold. Now, he needed to piece him back together one step at a time. It wasn’t something as base as compassion that formed his next words, merely fact and method. “You did well. Stay with me. Felwinter will lead us in.”

Riot held his gaze and slowly nodded. "Yes, sir.”

“Felwinter.”

“On it,” Felwinter said and reached for the door, pushing it open only to step back as heat radiated out of the door. A flush of hot air that kissed his skin and drew his eyes towards the center of the largely empty room. A rectangular stone chamber made of the same stacked blocks. Five folding chairs were set out. Two were occupied. One by someone he knew, the other by a new face.

Doctor Kaidan, once known as Dame Ito, wore a black blouse and a lab coat alongside a pair of black slacks and shiny shoes. The lower half of her face was covered with a partial oni mask that bore its fangs at them as they entered. Her long black hair fluttered a little bit in the sourceless breeze that the heat in the room kicked up. She crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knee. Ito’s ability allowed her to control and modify monsters, twisting them into something different or even enhancing their powers. 

Otis had run into her during the Liberty War, and she’d fled immediately. She avoided combat whenever possible - something she had in common with her new boss, the woman who sat next to her.

Craftsman.

Craftsman wore a neat, form-fitting brown suit and black tie. Her tan shoes were shined perfectly. She sat with her feet planted and knees slightly apart, her elbows resting on them as she watched the trio enter. Her long brown hair was styled to the side, like a comb-over, and fell down the right side of her face. Her eyes were the most arresting part of her, though. Two glowing dots of molten lava in her head. She smiled. "Marc Mallory, Otis, the Author.”

Otis’ lips curled up into an easy smile. "Graham Taylor, Craftsman, you look different from what I expected. I see you did some digging.”

“So did you. I’m impressed,” she said with a chuckle. "Don’t mind this body. Just think of it as a new pair of shoes for me.”

“I’ll think of it just that way then,” Otis said, committing the information to memory. No wonder she isn’t afraid of meeting me in an isolated place. “What happened to your last set of shoes?”

“Blackrazor,” she said with a growl.

So Ishtar knew about me searching for Craftsman as well and made sure to have her pet assassin deal with them. She really does know everything about my original plan, he thought darkly before giving an almost apologetic nod. "I’m afraid that might be my fault.”

Craftsman tilted her head. "What do you mean?”

“I’ve wanted to recruit you for a long time. Let’s just say that I once possessed a means to find the perfect people to work alongside me towards my goals,” he said. "Ishtar possesses some means to know who I was looking for. She’s already blocked me twice.”

The artificer raised a hand to her chin and rubbed it, leaning back thoughtfully. "Queen August was a favor for Erebus,” Craftsman murmured. "An Set and Liberty?”

Otis raised his eyebrows. "What brought you to that conclusion, besides the obvious?”

“An Set could have grown into quite the monster, especially if I had been able to make toys for him. The perfect shock and awe delivery system. Liberty had her cult and a strong following. Her henchmen were a mixed bag of great and terrible, but overall she was someone worth teaming up with. More importantly, if you’d managed to catch her in time, her going Hero would have been a huge boon for you. Too bad she went nuts. I’m guessing she’s dead?”

Otis smiled. He appreciated how this person thought. The guide wasn’t wrong. “Riot, here, finished her a few hours ago,” Otis said, gesturing to his companion.

Craftsman nodded appreciatively. "I haven’t heard anything yet. You do good work.”

“You’re a ghost, so I have the same to say about you,” Otis reciprocated.

“I have my ways,” Craftsman chuckled before her lips fell into a frown. "You’re going after Ishtar.”

“I have plans beyond Ishtar. She’s my obstacle, not my end goal,” Otis said flatly, raising his chin up. "I will be king one day.”

“Of what?”

“Everything.”

Craftsman stared at him for a long time, her eyes twinkling a little as she leaned forward. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin on her steepled fingers. "You know, if I hadn’t watched that footage of you coming back from a smear on the ground just a few days ago, I would have laughed at that. I believe you.”

“So you’re in?”

“Let’s talk about the benefits first,” Craftsman countered.

“I suppose we both knew this would end up being a transaction.”

“Glad to see there’s someone on this planet with a brain.”

“Real people are few and far between,” Otis agreed and held out his hand, calling up his menu. He pulled up the cheats tab and selected the item cheat. A moment later, an ingot of metal appeared in his hand. It was an odd bluish-white and glowed faintly. He hefted it before tossing it over to Craftsman, who caught it in one hand. She looked down at it, running her fingers over the surface.

“Mithril,” she murmured reverently. "I thought there were only a few nuggets on Earth, found by chance in Epic dungeons,” she looked up at Otis. "How?”

“I have my ways,” Otis said with a grin.

Craftsman threw her head back and laughed. "I like you!” she said and looked him in the eyes, holding the bar up next to her head. "You help me get the materials I need for my research, and I’ll kill every person on the planet if you ask.”

Otis smirked. "In that case, I have something I’d like to collaborate with you on.”

–

Two bullets left the chamber soundlessly, the sonic waves absorbing into the strip of paper wrapped around the barrel. The talisman burned away, and he reached into his pocket for another, rewrapping the barrel as the body dropped to the ground. He lowered his weapon and turned his head, glaring down the dark, empty alley as he counted the seconds in the back of his mind. As his count hit zero, a pair stepped into view. The first wore long robes that hung down over his hands. A staff was slung over his shoulders, and he hung his wrists over it as he swayed left and right with a lazy gait. The other was an elderly-looking man in a top hat, walking with easy poise as his cane tapped against the stone of the passage.

“That’s all of them,” Mimir said, turning his golden eyes towards the hotel leaning over them. He pulled his phone from his coat pocket and checked it. "Hellion is on the move, and Addison is in position.”

“Finally taking action,” the robe-wearing young man said with a yawn. "It’s about time.”

Mimir frowned at him but didn’t bother putting him in his place. He didn’t have the time for it. He stalked past him as his body seemed to flicker now and then, traversing short distances with a single step. He could see more than he could before - the shortcuts between places and entry points into a place that beggared imagining. He stopped his quick hops at one of the service doors for the hotel and slipped his gun into his coat, pulling a small hammer out. His eyes glowed, and he rapped it once against the deadbolt, right on the spot that gleamed in his vision.

The deadbolt cracked, and he pulled the casing from the door, dropping it into a nearby trash can. The actual deadbolt came next, and he pushed the door open, striding inside as the old man,Maximilian, fell into step next to him. It was a luxury hotel, usually one that prided itself on its security and privacy for its guests. Tonight, that reputation would be shattered. He wrinkled his nose a little at the expensive wallpaper and thick carpeting beneath his shoes. It reminded him of Caesar’s Palace. Of Ironsides.

“You truly think that girl is someone we need to interrogate?” Max asked quietly as the young man in the robes hurried to catch up.

Mimir shot him a look. "There’s no other explanation. She’s associated with Ishtar, I know it. If we can get it from her, we can bypass-” He coughed and rubbed his throat, grimacing a little as his body tried to choke itself. He glanced back over his shoulder. "Shrine, block the exit.”

Shrine frowned a little but nodded, turning around and spinning his staff. He slammed it into the ground and held out a hand, muttering something under his breath before a series of paper tags slapped against the walls around the broken door. A barrier of light formed between them, halting anyone from pursuing them from behind.

Mimir checked his phone again and frowned. Hellion was calling, which meant the situation had changed. "What’s going on, Hellion?”

<”Cops are on their way to you. Something’s going down at Pandora HQ; alarms are going off.”>

Mimir frowned. "Alarms?” he wondered as he started to turn on his heel, only to freeze in step. His mind went through the possibilities, piecing details together like threads across an evidence board. “Which side?”

<”All over! But it started in the west wing,”> Hellion said.

Mimir’s eyes glowed brighter.

“Liberty’s dead,” Mimir said and started walking faster, gesturing to the others. "They think the girl did it. How long do we have?”

<”What? I dunno, two, three minutes?”>

“Not enough time to grab her,” Max said as he hurried to keep up with Mimir.

“Yes, but enough to get my eyes on her,” Mimir said and added another number to the call. "Change of plans, Major. We’re peeking and dipping.”

“Got it, I’ll have your escape route ready. Are we leaving town?” Addison said quickly.

He stopped at the elevator access area and hit the button, one of the sets of doors opening with a chime. He hurried over. "Not yet, but get prepped. We won’t be here for much longer,” he said as the doors closed. They ascended, and Mimir checked his gun. It was possible they might have to fight their way out if the Pandora Committee saw them. At least we won’t have to worry about whatever security measures Ishtar has in place. If she pulls something while PC personnel are present, that’ll raise questions.

The door opened, and the three men stepped out, rounding the corner before stopping dead in their tracks. He pulled back and pressed himself against the wall. They’re already here.

“Hero Harbinger, you’re going to have to come with us. I apologize for waking you, but we need to talk to you at headquarters,” a male voice said. “We have a warrant to bring you with us. Please don’t make this difficult.”

“Hey, hey, relax,” a feminine voice replied. "What’s this all about? Can I at least call my mom first?” 

That must be Harbinger.

“Easy, guys, back up a bit. We’re not gonna give you trouble,” another woman said, this one a bit more brusque compared to the other. “Can I see the warrant?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the man said.

Mimir pursed his lips and took his chance, popping his head out and around the corner long enough for his golden eyes to fall on two women standing with six armed Pandora Committee soldiers and what appeared to be a hero in costume standing in front of them. His retinas burned, and his power activated. The dark-haired girl with the tattoos flinched and turned, but Mimir was already heading towards the elevator.

“I got what we needed. Let’s go.”

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