Atlas City

"Are you?"

Behind Victor, the Warehouse began to crumble and fall in on itself as flames engulfed the building. The sound of steel crashing turned the attention of the Witchfinders back to the building, the doors having fallen to the ground. In the glow of the flames, a single figure could be seen, features blurred by the fire and smoke. They twirled something in their hand playfully, stepping forward from the flames as something strange around them writhed for a few moments, before disappearing.

Standing now in the glowing entrance, their face still remained obscured by the fire and flames, but what was in their hand was visible enough to make out.

Another Comedy mask.

They donned it over their head and proceeded towards Victor and his fellow Witchfinders, slowly bringing their hands together in a slow, monotonous clap. Somehow, with the orange glow reflecting off the mask, the eyes and grinning mouth almost looked blacker than before.

"Well, what can I say Victor?" The figure began, voice still obscured as before. "You’re a man of Principles; you look down on these drugs, think they’re beneath you, and your ‘glorious cause’. The same inane principles everyone abandons when necessity dictates it. But you’ve made your point no less." A cold, hollow cackling began to erupt from them once more.

"Now let’s talk about my point, why I’m really here."

There was a moment of deafening silence as the black clad, white-masked figure stood before the Witchfinders. The figure was reveling in the moment, in the challenge.

"Vertical Integration." They spoke evenly.

Noticing Flat-cap and Cane, The Union Leader raised a finger in their direction. "Your pets here better stand down, otherwise I’ll be putting them down." They snapped their fingers, turning their gaze back to Victor.

"Or better yet… I could demonstrate on them how I make some of my other products. Like ‘Balthazar the Destroyer’."

The figure approached Victor, passing by him and standing at the edge of the docks to overlook the Atlantic waters.

"So how about it Victor. Are you listening?"

"Well, look at that! We debriefing now! Our first one as a team!" Henry remarked with a smirk, leaning back in his chair. "Aight....let's trade notes!"

Devon watched on as Sasha played a little doppelganger skit with Henry and Richard, resulting in a bit of a food fight only really stepping in to snatch one of the chocolate muffins that found themselves airborne. "Woe the cooks that have to watch their hard work being thrown into the trash." He said with a soft voice before digging into his claimed muffin. He then stepped back a bit anticipating the actions of the one who disappeared with a whole plate full of scrambled eggs, luckily managing to avoid getting hit by either of the gluten gladiators or the phantom of the buffet.

When things calmed down, flying food wise, another barrage was thrown through the air though this was a more verbal one, one of combined questions and information. Two of which demanded Devon's immediate attention, as such he turned to the first one to open their food receptacle. "Annoyingly yes, if you want to read up on the details I went ahead and created a couple folders on the shared drives it should be in the beast of decay case file. But to sum up the results it indeed formed a kind of inhibiting polymer complex, however I've been unable to identify the source of a couple of the building blocks so to speak and I have a feeling they aren't part of the beast of decay either. Maybe you could take a look at it, since you are more well versed with oceanic biology?" He asked Sasha hoping he would be able to fill in the blanks and in turn complete the formula for a decay inhibiting solution.

He then turned his mind to the far more troublesome matter that had just been revealed, with a sigh he sat down on one of the clean seats at the table giving himself a moment of time to think about the implications before more or less addressing the group. "Since none of you all were at the warehouse, let me just sum up the situation. Somebody murdered all of the witchfinders at the location, then leveled the building with god knows what kind of machinery with no attempts at cleaning up any evidence. Likely an action in anticipation of a SINS raid. Now let's add in the fact that some kind of law enforcement agency did this. Honestly I can only come to the conclusion that affiliates of the witchfinders have infiltrated one or more law enforcement agencies, high enough to be in the know of when locations are going to be raided and high enough to cover up the clean up operations from their subordinates." He explained to the others before taking a big sip of his coffee, giving the others a moment to let the new information sink in.

"What I'm saying is... FBI, CIA, NSA, SINS, DOHA or even a branch of the military, chances are at least one of these has been infiltrated and corrupted by the witchfinders to a degree that they are effectively in control." He added trying to figure out internally which one would be the most likely and which one would be the scariest prospect to fight against.

"So... our working theory is that the Witchfinders, a faction of deranged, extremist religious zealots, infiltrated one of the most secure federal agencies in the country, found out they were planning a raid on a Witchfinder warehouse, and then... murdered all their own guys in advance to prevent information leaks? That's our theory?" Sheri lifted her head up enough so Devon could see her skeptically raised eyebrows.

She slapped the table and stood up to leave. "Welp, this has been a fantastic waste of time. Good work gang, I look forward to watching you crack the next case."

"Knowing next to nothing about the Witchfinders and their drugs and....slightly more than I'd like to about government shadow agencies, is it that hard to believe?" Henry called over to Sheri as she began to leave. "At this point, any possibility seems...possible."

Henry put his hands behind his head and asked anyone who could answer. "What's up with these Witchfinders guys anyway? They're like a bunch of psychos who hate superpowers...but also have superpowers, right?"

Victor and his lieutenants looked at the Union boss as if there were a strange bug sitting on their comedy mask. Victor and the woman with the cane leaned toward each other to comment conspiratorially, neither looking away from the figure from Union.

"He really doesn't know who he's talking to, does he."

"Do you think he might be dumb?"

"Or forgot to do research."

"The state of criminal overlords these days."

"Shameful."

"This never would've happened under the last lea- actually, to be fair, his only prior experience with the Witchfinders was probably-"

"Ah, Francis, yeah. That would explain it."

"Even from the grave he finds ways to annoy me."

"Truly, you live a cursed life."

"It's sad, really."

"You should be direct in clearing up this misunderstanding. I hear it's good to be blunt sometimes."

"Guh! Well- I'm not gonna say you were right."

"That's fine. I know you're thinking it." With that, the woman clacked her cane once on the ground and then turned to leave. "Come on, Peni. We're going home."

"'Kay."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, even if we didn't catch your name," the woman said to the masked figure with a polite nod, before glancing back at Victor. "Let me know when you two are finished measuring."

"Noella."

The two women walked off, leaving the faction leaders alone together in the dark. Victor clicked his tongue and rubbed the back of his neck, then looked sidelong at the one from Union. "Vertical integration?" All tension seemed to have been ripped out of the atmosphere in an instant, and the two of them just standing alone outside a burning warehouse almost seemed to border on awkward suddenly. "Well. There's a cute diner not far from here where we can have a proper conversation. I get the sense neither of us actually knows what the other is saying here."

"Sometimes its good to just be direct with your words, you know?" Victor threw an arm around the Union boss's shoulder and pulled him close as he started walking toward the streetlights, as if the two were a pair of old friends. "That being said…" The humor finally left Victor's face, and for the first time his expression matched his demonic appearance.

"Don't ever threaten my people again."

The Union boss's entire body ignited in an instant, Victor stepping past their temporarily charred corpse as if nothing had happened. "Come on, lazy bones. Let's get some coffee."

Akiko had been beaming, having followed Sheri back to the tables and sat across from her. As Devon gave his theory and Sheri tore it to pieces, something inside of the ghost hero stirred. She got up to stop the redhead from leaving but found her face smacking the floor as Henry added to the conversation. A pressure was building inside of her and she could hear the sound of crackling fire behind her. Akiko didn't even bother to look around. She knew nothing was there.

Of course, you'd wake up for this...

"I think you missed a spot, Sasha" Akiko said with a small laugh as she got up from the floor. It hadn't looked like she had tripped however. More like just collapsed. "Sheri, don't leave yet! Admittedly, we shouldn't be making theories until we get more clues. We're gonna get too caught up in making the pieces fit. But I do think it's a good idea to see if there are leads we can pursue. Everyone's just voicing what they got right now."

"Though," Akiko added, looking over at Henry ominously, cracking her knuckles. "Some of us should be more careful with our word choice, especially after the food incident we just had."

A small handwritten note was haphazardly taped to the door of the room Klaus had laid claim, to once they had boarded the sub.

Back in a second! Well...a second to you, the reader, not me the--BRB

"Hey look, I just wanna know about the Witchfinders," Henry shrugged. "You hear about 'em on the news, but I never really got much outta those reports aside from their gist of their rheotoric. ...Actually, hold up," he turned to Akiko. "Do you know anything about 'em? I mean...one of your ghosts sure looked had the look of one, from what I remember."

"Hmm, maybe," Sasha said in response to Devon's request he look at the data, looking slightly embarrassed. He listened to Devon's theory, and Sheri's rebuttal, then shrugged.

"It's certainly likely that elements of many criminal organizations have infiltrated the higher reaches of the government," Sasha said, setting the trash bin down and grabbing a plate. He began quickly filling it with food. "The Witchfinders are well-funded, well-equipped, and growing in number thanks to resentment fostering amongst those without powers, or those who have been mistreated. Neither of those necessarily mean that using said power is forbidden, just that those who were gifted with it are."

Sasha shrugged. "Regardless of the motivations, however, the Witchfinders have, I believe, simply stumbled across the drug. It appears to be a recent addition to their ranks. The giant one we fought near the diner was too rough around the edges, too weak. They'll be working on newer, better soldiers. But to do that, they'll need vast quantities of the drug."

Sasha seated himself and looked at the rest of the group. "They'll be starting to synthesize the drug for themselves. Production and distribution will shift in America to the Witchfinders. Not only that, but they'll be eliminating any competitors.

"For us, however, we still have to look bigger. The Witchfinders found the drug, but who created it in the first place? That was the question I sought to answer. The last few days I have spent tracking down leads, tracing back the roots of the drug. I debriefed George earlier, but it's somewhere out of country. I know Russia has a variant of the drug in it, but it's more primitive. It doesn't give the user powers, simply enhances what's there. I believe the Witchfinders have been getting the drug shipped in through somewhere along the west coast, but without heading there ourselves, I didn't get much farther."

Sasha glanced at Akiko, who was supposed to be the detective, and smirked as if to say Top that, Ms. Bong, I dare you.

As Akiko was about to reveal important information, Sasha cut in. Her half baked lies fell to the wayside as he started rattling off information. There was an annoyance creeping up inside of her as she listened to him though she was pretty certain it was the Witchfinder inside of her. Like 90% certain. After all, his deductions seemed reasonable until his eyes met hers. Her eyes widened. He had the audacity, the audacity to smirk at her, to challenge her!

For a few moments, she could hear the tap of the mechanical keyboards again. There were figures standing on the other side of the room, smirks on their faces. She could hear their voices, mocking, asking what she was without her powers. Asking what she was without his last name.

A fire lit in Akiko's eyes. Not literally but Sasha did see them flash red briefly. Digging inside of her jacket for what seemed an unusually long time, she pulled out a vial and a little black book. There was a cocky grin on her face even as her hands shook, even as her fingers struggled to stay curled around the items. There was an angry roar amidst her thoughts.

"Well, well, Sasha. That is impressive," Akiko said with a smirk of her own. "But while you were tracking down leads, I was tracking down some pretty vital evidence. Exhibit A, an actual vial of the stuff. Exhibit B, their little black book. Exhibit C..."

She took a shaky breath. They had to know.

"An actual Witchfinder's soul."

"It's all I have to offer given the facts. Or do you perhaps have a theory why law enforcement murdered a whole warehouse of criminals, more than a few who didn't resist and then leveled the place without investigating the scene and taking anyone in for interrogation? Smells to me like someone in the government is trying to cover something up and not something small. So unless we want to entertain the idea that this drug is another government concoction a la MKUltra, them being in bed with the Witchfinders to a certain degree doesn't sound all that outlandish." He retorted towards Sheri after having gotten some backing from both Sasha and Henry.

He then turned towards Sasha who had himself uncovered a whole host of leads to follow. "Given the amount of the stuff that got trashed in the warehouse it has to have been shipped in via one of the bigger ports, but that still leaves a couple dozen places dotted along the West coast, do you have any idea where about along the West coast we have to start looking for this needle in the haystack?" He asked hoping Sasha could narrow things down to two or three port cities at most.

Not a moment later did the spectral detective drop a few bombs on the group. She had managed to collect the black book that one of the ghost on site had told her about, an actual non-trashed sample of the drug and apparently the soul of one of those shitty witchfinders. "Well that would have been useful to have had earlier, chemical analysis takes literal ages on mystery matter like this. Oh well, at least we now have one more set of eyes to help decode that mess." He said with a little annoyance in his voice giving a little nod to Sasha at the end.

"Why the hell didn't you lead with that?" Sheri rebuked, spinning on the ball of her foot and snatching the vial from Akiko's hand.

She held it up to the light, head tilted slightly as she gazed deep into the transparent amber fluid. She wondered if this was how carbon nanotubes would feel if they could see pig iron.

"Chemical analysis can wait. First we should check it for any stable isotopes. Pharmaceutical companies use them as a sort of signature to track and identify their products." She handed the drug back to Akiko. "If this vial has any, we'll know who's producing them."

Sheri didn't bother to comment on the "soul" thing. She never bothered to question how Thinkers chose to present their abilities; it was always some quirky nonsense.

The ground level of the atrium had become a raging storm of conversation, ideas, evidences, and possible theories surrounding the subject of the Witchfinder Generals, as well as the drugs they had been using. So far, everyone had brought up some major potential leads; an outside source for the drugs, potential government involvement, the possibility of a pharmaceutical company being used (even if only in part) for production, a little black book, and what sounded like (depending on what Akiko meant by a 'soul') a witness.

Richard quietly cleared his throat before deciding to add some of his own thoughts. "Devon, if I recall correctly, we'd talked about the possibility of some leads in ex-East Germany? I'd heard rumors about things like the freaky Witchfinder from the diner, being used during the Belarusian Civil War. Thought it was just a myth, like the Philadelphia Project or something, but seeing him in person lends a lot more credibility to that possibility."

He looked between the group, taking what had been discussed about the potential of government involvement for a second, milling it over in his head while he thought it through. "It's also entirely possible the Witchfinders are some kind of... Well, either a false flag movement, or maybe a government controlled terror group? I mean think about the political implications for a second. The US government, at least, is having a major schism over super rights, supers in the military, providing more funding to supers, etc. A group like the Witchfinders could very easily be part of some political group's toolbox for getting whatever it is they want passed into law."

The slight shrug he gave showed he wasn't entirely confident in his hypothesis, but he still felt it had credibility. "It'd be a risky move, but with enough layers of separation between politicians and terrorists, how do you come out and prove that this is all part of some conspiracy to either oppress supers, or get more supers fighting wars?"



Lilian talked for a while, starting off with general enough chit chat, but the generalities quickly turned to things she was working on, ideas and inventions she had, and soon it seemed she was whisked away by a passionate, heartfelt speech. For all of Maxwell's dark sides, for his coldness, and his views of people often being little more than tools, he couldn't help but feel thrilled but what she had to say. His heart may be somewhat cold, but it would have to be missing entirely for all of this to have no impact on him.

Especially because these emotions were all her own. Maxwell wasn't using his powers on her right now, and truthfully, he rarely ever had. Why manipulate someone who'd freely offer you their loyalty? That was not least of the things that made her quite endearing.

He'd started to respond, but after a few moments it became clear she'd trailed off, coming back to reality and asking him to repeat himself. The Shape chuckled a little at this.

"Well firstly Lilian, I just wanted to say that, busy as you may be, I do hope you're enjoying your time with all of your 'jobs', especially with being a mom. " He patted her gently on the shoulder before clasping both hands in front of him, leaning against the bar.

"Let's not get too absorbed in the talk of 'becoming gods'. We've still got a lot of work to do, wouldn't do us well to put the carriage in front of the horse. But... Your ideas, and your inventions, are an investment we can't ignore either. So I'm going to support you in this 100%, and if testing on me is necessary, let's go ahead and do it. Assuming it's safe that is. Mustering up the 'resources' to do proper tests would take time, but you've more than made your point that what you're working on could potentially be one of the most important things we've ever made, even when I had The Union under me."

He went quiet for a moment, pensively tapping his fingers together before looking back to Lilian. "But as for The Union, I'm not yet sure if they're causing me problems or not. Someone certainly is, they've been providing drugs that create super powers to various gangs and villains in the area, but most significantly is that terrorist group, the Witchfinder Generals. I don't know who's behind this, but whoever it is, we need to deal with them. Quickly."

As Victor continued to walk away from the charred mess he'd left behind him, both the building and the person, he rounded the corner of another towering warehouse and came face to face with yet another white, pristine looking, Comedy Mask. As the figure laid a hand gently onto Victor's should, there was a slight, giggling sound that emanated distortedly from the mask.

"You know what Victor? I think that's a fine idea. But how's about we go with a different cafe instead, something I'm a little more familiar with."

There was something of a flash in Victor's eyes, but not a true flash. It was like seeing light evaporating into nothing but a void. That was all Victor saw for a few seconds, no more than five or ten, and after that another 'flash' seemed to evaporate the darkness and fill his sight with light again.

The first thing that struck him was the location, some kind of old-timey looking diner, but not one he recognized. The second thing that struck him was the condition of the diner, and everywhere else around. At his feet was an inch or two of water, and under that was a thick mass of dead flora, moss, lichen, vines, and plenty of other decaying and rotting looking things. But in other areas, it seemed like the piles of decayed stuff was more of some kind of 'fauna' than flora, strange spots of rotted flesh and other things.

The Union Leader was on the other side of the diner's counter, putting something into a grinder. Coffee beans.

"Why don't you have a seat at the counter Victor, this'll only take a second." While they did this, a coffee percolator next to them quietly hummed and bubbled as it heated up the water inside. Outside the diner, things moved, though what exactly it was that was moving was impossible to tell. It was twilight outside of the diner, still enough light brighten the sky, but not quite enough to see everything on the ground below. Once The Union Leader finished grinding the beans, they poured them into a paper filter, and placed it into the percolator.

The Union Leader spun around and clasped their hands together at the counter, now mask to face with Victor. "Don't mind the decor, everything that's going into your drink is properly sanitized, no need to worry about that. Plus, the beans are from this fantastic place in Kenya, probably some of the best coffee you'll ever have."

They rapped the top of the counter with their knuckle, as if to knock on wood or something. "Now, let's make a deal, you and I, eh? Seems you've got some affinity for your people. Not sure if that's just because they're really good supers, or you've got some found family thing going on with them. Personally I've never seen the point in the whole 'found family' concept, but I mean... Well you saw, or at least Francis saw, what Balthazar was, so you don't make stuff like that for a living and have really deep connections with people."

They chuckled to themself for a moment before taking their attention back to Victor. "Anyways, your people, here's what I'll tell ya. I won't do anything to them, but in exchange for that I need you to A) not kill any of my people, B) not destroy any of my property, C) not try to destroy me, and D) not screw anything up with my business. You managed to do three of those things tonight, and one of them has been an ongoing problem with your organization. So, let's make a deal on the first three parts at least, shake as gentlepeople, and move on. As for the fourth part..."

The percolator clicked off, and hot, steaming, dark liquid began to pour into a crystalline carafe below. "Ahh, the coffee, one sec." They turned around and, once the carafe was full, pulled it away from the percolator, grabbing a hot pad and placing it on the counter next to where the two supers stood, and settling the carafe on top of it as well. The Union Leader grabbed some sugar and creamers and placed them between the two of them as the Leader began putting their coffee together.

"Alright, so 'vertical integration'. I'm guessing you didn't like that, don't like other dogs coming around and spraying all over your territory, I get it. Also not what I really meant. What I meant was this: The Witchfinder Generals have consistently been making BIG mistakes, the mistakes with The Union just happen to be some of the most recent. You had that Super Cop you all tried, and failed, to kill; the failed attack on the diner that was thwarted by a handful of rando heroes; and of course, the warehouse with MY drugs in it being 'interloped' on by not one, not two, but THREE different groups."

Once the sugar and cream was added, the black spot on the mouth opened up and allowed The Union Leader to take a sip of coffee. After they finished, the mouth closed again. "Fine cup of coffee. Anyways, you had SINS there, with an agent that obliterated your people and leveled the building. And then you had some gang of supervillains, and a bunch of unknown supers show up for some kind of investigation and a fight right after that. And where were the Witchfinders? And let's not forget too, this was AFTER Francis was dead."

They paused, leaning back slightly and raising a hand to ask for a moment from Victor. "In fairness Victor, I'm not blaming that on you. I can acknowledge you're pretty powerful, a lot more than I expected actually, but I guess seeing clips of you during your hero days doesn't really say much. Makes me wonder why you joined an anti-super terrorist group though? Anyways, point is that the Witchfinders are a liability. But, and there's a big but there, they can also be an asset, especially because our goals, I believe, are going to find some areas where they align quite soon."

Another pause as they once again clasped their hands together in front of them. "I don't want 'control' over the Witchfinder Generals. Believe me, there's a lot of terrorist groups I could choose from, I'm even selling to a bunch of them! Fomóraigh, the Ulsters, Allah's Chosen Caliphate, the 10th Crusade, etc. etc. Granted, some of them have no idea who they're buying from, but that's besides the point. Anyways, what I want with you is more involvement in the 'supply side'. If SINS, or any other organization finds our drugs in the hands of Witchfinders, that's a lead they can follow back to us. And what happens if they find us and decide to throw us all in jail, or the chair? Well they'll find all our customer data and follow that lead back to... Drum roll please.... The Witchfinder Generals."

They leaned back for a moment, taking another sip of coffee, and chuckling a bit as they considered the situation they were both in. "So, for the sake of peace between our nations, and the effective continuation of our commercial relationship, I would like for the Witchfinder Generals to allow The Union to deal with more of its products and services, be that the drugs, the guns, the 'Balthazars', or anything else. I want us to be the ones making sure it gets to you, the ones storing it in our warehouses and secure locations, the ones guarding it with our lives. But, there is one more thing I also desire."

The Union Leader's coffee had been drank to empty, and they began to pour themselves another cup. "Your organization has connections and people that would be very helpful, both for The Union, and the Witchfinder Generals. We could try to put some of our own people into the same places you have, but that would take time, and neither the Witchfinders, nor The Union, have much to spare. I want to work with those people, those contacts, and I want to begin working with them on what is going to be an historic operation that will benefit both of us. I could just go to your boss and talk to them about it, but right now you're the one in charge in Atlas City, and I know some of those contacts and valuable personnel are here too."

A light sound of clinking began as they stirred the sugar and cream in their new cup of coffee. "You're strong Victor, obviously. But power isn't about strength. It's about how you use your strengths, your weaknesses, your resources, your tools, your people, all to your advantage. You want the Witchfinder Generals to be powerful? Then it's time to take powerful actions."

"Hey, you might catch Akiko slacking but while she works at an...unorthodox pace, as a detective, she's the real deal," Henry interjected. "Besides...got a feeling she'll be one of the keys to getting the drop on the Witchfinders," he added, looking over at the ghostly detective, his eyes then drifting over to a packet of nearby hot sauce which he stared at in contemplation. "Not only do we have a decent amount of evidence left for chemical analysis, we have our very own Witchfinder we can interrogate in-person...uh, so to speak."

Listening in to Richard's take regarding the Witchfinders, Henry didn't quite like what he was gleaning for this. "If any of that, has a grain of truth in it, then..." he shook his head. "I honestly don't get it. You'd think there'd be bigger problems to deal with, especially now. Then again, I never quite understood the government's hold on superheroing. Makes me glad we're operating unaffiliated."

Victor smiled pleasantly as the Union boss spoke, his finger making steady circles around the rim of the coffee cup. The black liquid started to simmer quietly inside its ceramic container, ignored by its attendant.

"Couldn't agree more," Victor said, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. "I'd be happy to make some introductions for you. Get the ball rolling on that. As for a proper contract - I'm sure you'd want one of those drawn up, right? I'll have my people get in touch with your people. Happy days all around."

He pushed back from the counter and stood, leaving the untouched coffee lying abandoned. "If that's everything for now though, you can- Mm. My socks are wet. You can go around and drop me back where you found me." He spun on his heel, spreading his arms wide to indicate his surroundings. "Lovely place, by the way. Very striking."

Akiko clutched at her chest, looking wounded as both Devon and Sheri practically reprimanded her for not delivering key evidence sooner. Richard helped twist the knife in as he, too, had absolute no reaction to the ghost hero's confession. She placed her head on the table, staring off into space in disbelief. Had she simply been overthinking this all along?

Henry's words snapped her out of her despair. She sat up, about to thank him for defending her, when two things registered in her brain.

"Unorthodox!?" She cried out first as her brain worked on processing the gravity of the second statement. "Henry... Taco sauce won't be enough to make him behave this time around."

She paused, placing her arms behind her head. Her brows came together in thought as she tried to gauge how resistent he would be to the idea. With all the theories floating about however and need for information, it was tempting.

"Since it hasn't been too long yet, there's a chance that we could get some info out of the Witchfinder. That way we can get these theories narrowed down. I might need to get clearance for this though. Or at least a couple of you to get him back under control if need be. I can't guarantee anything though, especially not with how grumpy he gets."

Sheri crossed her arms and eyed Henry, as he seemed the most experienced when it came to working with Akiko. "So what, is this like a split personality thing?"

"Uh..." Henry scratched the side of his face. "Kinda, in the literal sense. She's like a spirit medium of sorts. Best way I can put it anyway. Saw in in action twice. Once during our trip to the beach, where we had a interview with the dead. And once when...well, uh...there was a taco incident."

"I knew you had something to add," Sasha smiled at Akiko, nodding to the explanation of her powers. "What an amazing gift."

5 days ago.

Sirens wailed outside Vic's apartment. Atlas City was panicked and overwhelmed well past the strike of twelve, sprawled on its arse in the aftermath of the Beast. Up above it all, Vic slept peacefully, lounging over the broken remains of almost every material possession she had. Something tickled her ear and she stirred. Black beads on stalks peeked over orange claws. A hand bopped the creature's portable house, and its eyes were slurped back into its shell.

"Freddy," Vic slurred, "Where's your brother?"

Tap. Tap.

From across the apartment, in the dark, Vic heard - not the shuffle of a hermit crab. Footsteps, with the specific, dangerous sounding clack of a stiletto heel.

"Anastasia, lights..." Vic called out, cradling Freddy against her chest. Cold light flushed the room and showed off the extent of the carnage, and the slick, blonde high ponytail of the woman going through it. Vic's jaw dropped. "Stephanie?"

'Stephanie' didn't turn around for her. She lifted Vic's many white sheets that used to cover her furniture, and threw everything that wasn't of interest to her behind the pink derriere she pointed Vic's way. She was wearing a garish get-up of all pink, a big baggy jumpsuit with a funny neckline that made her look like an astronaut. It wasn't quite on brand.

"Wh- wait, Steph, what the hell are you -" Vic stumbled over her words as she did the same with her feet, wobbling to a stand. Her brain kept rebooting itself as it tried to troubleshoot this clear ERROR in her reality. "No, you can't be - how'd - If you're here for your stupid reusable smoothie cup I told you you must've left it at the gym, I never - and that was SIX YEARS AGO what are you doing here?!?" She didn't reply. Just kept searching. Vic stormed up to her and shot a hand out for her shoulder. "ARE YOU CRAZY?! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU -"

"She won't talk," a smooth male voice wafted down from the balcony. Vic jerked back from the blank brown eyes that stared through her, and whipped her attention up to the robot leaning over the balcony railing in a decidedly un-robot-like fashion. "It was the only way I could get her here. Not having to talk to you." The robot peeled off its masking tape label, and chuckled at his name - 'Dipshit'. "Vicki, Vicki... Vicster. What do we say about vandalizing company property?"

"Mack Bullard," Vic acknowledged the voice coming through her robot. Stephanie shouldered Vic's hand off her and strutted over to rummage through the other side of the apartment. "I didn't... realise agents breaking and entering with exes was in... my... contract..." Vic seethed between her teeth. "Nor did I read 'possessing my shit' in the fine print."

The robot shrugged, struggling to get the sticky tape off its fingers. "Your contract's almost at its end. And forgive STAs for intruding on our own property, but you're a hard girl to get a hold of."

"Well you've got me now," she exasperated. "What is it? Wanna talk about renewing the contract? At two-fucking-AM?" She threw a dirty look back at Stephanie. Near her feet, Pinhead poked his head out from the mess, hiding. It clicked. She ignored the instinct to put her hand on the pocket the chip was tucked in. "Whatever you're looking for, you're not gonna find it here. I'll look over whatever contracts you want tomorrow, Christ."

"We know you have her." Bullard stated. "We know you were at the beach-"

"Oh yeah, who told you that, Tobias Flanagan?" Vic mocked him in a very stupid voice, "I made you take 'tracking chip' out of the contract."

"We weren't tracking you."

A hand snaked around her waist to her pocket and Vic snatched it away, shoving Stephanie back with a gust of wind. Pinhead made a painstakingly slow dash for it.

"Don't be such a diva, Vicster! This is all just to ensure that Miss Wright's memories of her service are passed down to her successor, to make life easier for you."

"... Right." On a normal day, she wouldn't be all-g with her agency taking her dead not-really-girlfriend's memories anyway. But this was swiftly escalating to a, 'there's definitely something more nefarious going on, how did I not realise how shifty these guys were earlier' situation. Gold mist sputtered from Stephanie's fingers like glitter. "You couldn't go through SINS to get her. What the hell makes you think getting past me will be any easier?"

Rudy and Zach the robots marched out of Vic's jam room to flank Bullard. Stephanie pressed a button on her collar, and a glass dome sprang up around her head. Vic instantly regretted asking the question.

"It's company property you're living in, Vicster." Bullard tutted. All three robots whirred, their limbs transforming into... very... gun-like protrusions. Huh. Vic didn't know they did that. A sickening crack sounded behind her. She twisted around to see Pinhead, frozen under the pressure of a tacky fuchsia heel.

"... Your skin, I mean."

The robots fired. Pinhead crunched. Useless sparkles shot off. But what screamed over it was the shrill sound of all the air in the apartment being sucked out through unseen vents. Vic struggled as the air rapidly fled the scene. She smashed in Stephanie's helmet with an award. A tranquilizer got her leg. Her head slammed against glass, multiple times, and then -

And then she was out the window, along with the couch. She faded in and out of consciousness and being. Somewhere between the concussion and the oxygen deprivation, she'd lost how she got here. She clutched onto Freddy tight. The crab came and went with her.

---

Now.

Vic jerked up in bed, feeling like she'd just fallen seventeen stories into it. A video played on the flatscreen television on the wall. Her own face bobbed and swayed on screen, in a shower cap, red dye leaking onto her forehead, and prioritizing her smirk over forming her words. Her eyes quick to dart away whenever they made contact with the lens, always interested in elsewhere, even when the camera pulled her in close to...

Vic scrambled for the remote. Beep - tex, the American superpowered superstar, front-woman of Cold Front, has still yet to be spotted since falling out the window of her apartment. STAs has released a statement -

She turned off the TV and was cast into darkness.

---

Vic dressed up and left the VIP suite of Shapeless. Her once bottle-red hair was now dyed silver, with brown roots showing. The ~disguise~ made her look like a ghost, but somehow less unhealthy than what that iconic Vicki Vortex red did for her. She could almost say that her skin fell back on the spectrum of what skin should look like. She slipped out the back of the club into the alleyway for her morning smoke.

Just one, she instructed herself as she shuffled it out of the packet and lit it up. A moaning caught her attention. Like a sick cat, only bigger, deeper, and more distinctly annoying. She sauntered towards the open skip bin the groans echoed from. She hauled herself up and leaned over. Her eyes crinkled in amusement at what she found within.

"So this is where you've been," she said. She took in a long draw and exhaled through her nostrils, smoke curling around her smirk. "Did the Rat throw you out?"

Two yellow slits gleamed in the darkness of the bin. A mountain of meat, pale, sickly green in colour, the skin stretched too far and too tight. Carnifex unit 04, nicknamed 'Scourge'. He looked vaguely like a man, but he was more like several; melded and sewn together within a mad scientist's flesh pits.

The creature straightened himself, his sigh muffled through a mask of thick, black leather. ”I’m TRASH,” he replied, with a coarse, rumbling voice like an avalanche. ”So my creator threw me out… like trash. LAST WEEK’S trash.”

The creature drew out a groan as he fell back. Lower, and lower, a slow descent that ended with a dumpster-rattling thud. Tin cans tumbled. Rats scurried. Pigeons retreated, but scattered their surprise all over the alley walls.

The creature laid on his back and stared, into nothing in particular, content to contemplate on its sorry existence…

...Until he realised that Vic was still there, and he turned his narrowing eyes towards her. ”Whaddaya want, Vortex?! Can't you see that I'm SULKING?"

Vic returned his whining with a cheeky brow raise. "I see you, Oscar," she placated, "Momdad issues, huh. Take my advice, make bank then change your number. Works a charm."

Scourge blinked. There was... a distinct lack of insults in her reply. He glanced aside to consider her words. ”So you're saying… money takes the ache away?" He asked, with a voice lower than she'd heard before.

He cast his gaze downwards, and his mind wandered. A vast mansion. Vaults full of gold. Swimming pools full of movie stars. Maids in leather and leotard feeding him grapes as he slouched upon a throne of petrified, muscular heroes…

”Ohhhhhh, now that's the dream…," he purred, his eyes starry and gazing off into the distance.

...But the dream faded, and Vic's face returned to fill his vision.

”But… where do I START?" He asked, his posture straightening as he looked up to Vic. Flies buzzed around him, reveling in the rot and decay which had accumulated over the days.