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Opera DeSanta

GRA Building, Coast City

December 3rd, 2300 hours

///

It wasn't the same.

Gazing down onto the street below, it was dark now and though Coast City was always more active at night very few people had business outside of this building.

Under the GRA's watchful eye.

But that extended everywhere.

Perhaps it was that Caine wasn't in the corner behind her.

Yes, that was it. That was her mistake.

She would order the immediate disposal of Ariya and-

The reassignment. Fuck, she'd forgotten to give Caine his new orders. He had probably fallen in with paramilitary knowing him but if he was mercenary at least he was in the area.

She planned to send him to Cassie after the incident last summer. Opera's only family was deep in Russia's more civilized district, but even then there was no real safety.

Ever since Opera made the mistake of getting in with these damn assassins instead of just sending in a task force she'd been waiting for it to bite her in the ass.

They would go for Cassie. And there would be hell to pay if they did.

Footsteps on the carpet behind her as the door opened.

"Not now, Ariya."

"Ariya's passed out in an alleyway across town."

Spinning around the gun was already behind this newcomer's cloak as soon as it emerged from Opera's pocket.

A rough one-handed shove sent Opera against the window, and she took in her attacker.

"L-Lynx?"

"Close."

This one had a red mask, flowers on the edges. Wearing a black cloak.

"This a plasma pistol? Shit, I thought the only one that wasn't drawn up on a blueprint was in Ramses Trojan's third desk drawer on the right. Where'd you find this?"

"What do you want? I'll give you all my money"-

"Oh, shut the hell up. If I wanted money I would have gone for an easier target. I just need a favor."

Opera stood up, they were less than a foot away but she was pressed against the window.

The assassin suddenly laughed.

"The problem is, there's just too many ways to kill you. I can't decide. I'm wagering on kicking you out the window right now but I need you alive for about five minutes beforehand."

Opera contained her breathing. She'd already sent for help, it was tied to that chip in her hand.

"Just tell me what it is you need me for."

"...I want you to pay Ajax off my sister. He asked for more payment in Thailand if I remember correctly. And I want you to get out of the contract killer game while you still can."

"I can do that, but... Your sister...?"

The figure looked out onto the streets below and Opera wondered just what she saw.

Was this what was in that dark spot in GRA's eye? Behind the static screen?

"We have a... Complicated relationship. But I want her alive. If anything happens to her you're on my list."

"...So you can use her?"

There was a laugh, a cackle. Opera didn't know assassins that well, perhaps that was why she was in this situation. But she recognized it.

It was the same cackle as her soul made.

"I'm not you. I let my loose ends go. I let them do their damage. Because then I have an excuse... You would be pretty fit for the game if you could keep up. You would be perfect, I'm disappointed actually. But you can't learn now. And if you piss off the wrong person and their name isn't 'Katia', you'll be dead."

Opera let her speak, though it wasn't in her nature.

Here she was... Bowing to someone.

For the first time ever.

No, the first time she'd taken the moment to think to herself.

She didn't even bow to god, he never showed himself to her.

"So you care for me? Something else you need me for, Katia?"

Another chuckle, mild. Katia turned around.

Perhaps this was the most feared mask in 'the game'. The one you didn't want to see. Opera didn't even know it. But she feared it.

It wasn't a sick twisted grin. It was a Jinn mask, standard. Painted in what from the shade and texture, was blood.

And it was wet.

"No. If you drop then the GRA will win, and I won't make as much money. I'm simple."

Katia casually punched a window that was supposed to resist hell and it cracked.

Tapping it, it fully shattered.

"Don't piss me off again."

Opera watched her lean and drop, no sounds of a grappling hook or density shifter or anything she would even know about.

Some part of her listened for wings.

Just the glass dropping.

As security busted in she gave a sigh.

///

Damien

Near the Finland-Russian border

December 4th, 0300 hours

The sound of labored breathing, his own.

And the feel of hot blood dripping down his face. Here, his death meant nothing.

If father even noticed...

Another boot connected solid with his face, his mask somewhere in the snowbanks already. And his armor was riddled with bulletholes.

Ripping the single edged serrated blades from their sheathes, with a cry more of frustration than rage, he slashed the air in front of the attackers he could barely see, another kick from the back sending him onto his face.

It had been at least an hour already of tormenting... At this point he wished they would just kill him and be done with it.

He'd made the biggest mistake of his life. Left the only safe place in the world for an impossible task.

Now, his undoing was his own.

"Choi's brat. Here, you're just another freak hiding behind a mask."

"What do you want...?"

The laugh echoed through the forest, trees just as dead as this prey surely was.

They were all in black; so was he for the most part, but the burgundy of his armor gave him away.

When he designed the set father told him it was moronic.

"I want a great number of things. Freedom for the people of the Scandinavian Union. Opera DeSanta's head on a plate. And maybe your father's while I'm at it."

Damien managed to stand, wiping the blood from his mouth.

"My business in the Union doesn't concern you, Berg. I'd like to know why you found it necessary to attack me..."

From ahead of Damien, behind a tree, a figure emerged.

Tall. Slender. Though it was only a testament to his agility and strategy.

Berg was terrifying to those who knew them... Who else could run an underground insurrection in the Scandinavian Union?

As Berg removed his hood and mask, his golden furred visage was revealed. Officially he was a mutt, but if he heard anything other than dingo...

"Just a welcome, Jinn to Jinn? No, Damien. We can't have even more assassins trapezing around, threatening to expose our operations here."

"...What do you mean?"

A frown came to Berg's face.

"Someone has their assassin, the one with the cat mask, doing something around here. I would know if she was just another contract killer. No shortage of those, either... I suppose you would know about that particular assassin, though...? But then again, ever since you were exiled..."

The frown was replaced by a smirk. As much as Damien hated how everyone made a point of bringing that up, he wouldn't give Berg what he wanted.

As much as he hated to think about it, Gynezis was right. Jinn was a mess. Everyone hated each other.

Hell, the last time he'd even seen Berg was probably when he was 9. That trip to Sweden...

He half expected Lynx to be here if he'd taken the trouble to come himself, but the rise in bounty hunters made far less sense.

"I'm only going to be here for a few days. That's why I routed through the North... If anyone's making noise, it's you with this daft attack."

Thinking for a moment, Berg whistled shortly and several assassins dropped from the trees, then walked back from the direction the 'dingo' came.

"Tell me what you're here for at least. It's too much trouble to anger a warlord. I'm thinking you can do me a favor anyways."

Warlord.

At one point father even wanted to be called 'Emperor', but that would wait until his ambitions were realized.

If they were realized.

Damien didn't much care for that anymore.

"I'm here to see... If the rumors are true."

"What rumors? Things don't get to Europe very quickly, boy."

The panther's muzzle twitched. He didn't want to explain himself.

Around the time he'd come up through Russia he'd started having doubts but it was too late to turn back.

At this point all he wanted was to see him with his own eyes.

"The afflict. The one everyone's been talking about. He's here in the Union. I just don't know where. That's why you've got so many assassins on the doorstep. And- the one you mentioned earlier? The cat mask? With the grin?"

Berg nodded, his eyes narrowed.

"That's my father's personal servant. I think you figured that out already."

"You don't explain yourself well. Or maybe you're just evading me. What do you want with this afflict?"

Staring Berg in the eyes, the wind picked up a little and the trees seemed deader than before.

He tried to inflect that look father would give when people didn't agree with him on his military maneuvers.

Or when Damien had gotten into trouble.

The panther rolled up his sleeve, exposing the patterns singed into his arm.

They glowed red before the limb caught fire of the same crimson shade, his eyes too turning the same and burning like hot coals against the snow and night.

Berg clapped sarcastically. "I've seen your damn party tricks. Did you know there's more Jinnrai under my command than any of the other insurrection forces in the world?"

"I'm not one of those cheap clones. I've killed 8 pureblooded afflicts in my lifetime. The one in Norway is supposed to be the strongest, so I want to take a look for myself."

"...Norway?"

Fuck, he'd slipped up.

Berg gave a nod.

"Walk with me. We can discuss these complications. The base is not far from here, you can stay the night there."

Extinguishing himself, Damien bridged the gap between the two men.

He wagered Berg wanted something out of this, too.

But the bastard was figuring out what he could get from it.

After all, the whole point of attacking was just to spite him.

///

Lucian

Phantom Forest Facility, Somewhere in New Egypt

December 4th, 0600 hours

"This is getting tedious. We've been at it all day."

"I would have thought someone like you would be used to these tests by now? And, perhaps, have more conclusive results?"

As the last burst of light green flame exploded from Lucian's right arm, the otter gave a huff.

"And by the way, Krause, it's been all night." The interjecting bull scientist gave his superior a disapproving look.

Dr. Winston had been the only reason he'd even gotten a break to sleep and eat since yesterday. Lucian was surprised that Ramses himself didn't ever stop even when the other scientists monitoring him did.

He'd met Trojans before. Hated it when you called them rich, like it was an insult. Felt like they had something to prove.

Not like he could hold it against them; a few branches of their family didn't contribute to the GRA at all and just enjoyed their rich lifestyle off the backs of their relatives.

Until two of them were gunned down publicly. Then they got to work.

Lucian hadn't really questioned what Ramses wanted with him. He knew how much it cost to keep an afflict on ice, and if Trojan kept him on life support for a month he was clearly worth something.

As for Mr. Trojan himself, the man in the chair was really indifferent to Lucian. For the first week or so he completely ignored the otter, leaving Lucian to explore the facility.

And he found not sheisse.

Cairo was relatively nearby but he didn't speak Arabic and he wasn't even sure if he could leave or not.

"So, Mr. Krause, we have been preparing a test for you for the last few days."

"You've tested me the last few"-

"A real test. Not firing lasers at immobile targets."

"What's the point of all this anyway? It's always so much testing. You already know I'm capable. Just tell me what to do and I'll get it done."

"You're a smart boy, figure it out yourself." Ramses' face displayed fatigue the next Lucian caught it from behind the plexiglass.

Dr. Winston gave a sigh and whispered something to Ramses.

They got into another one of those barely audible arguments, probably over giving Lucian another break before whatever he was about to do.

As per usual though, Ramses won and Dr. Winston went back over to his control panel.

The jackal gave a rare smile looking down at his own controls.

He'd seen Dr. Winston around Ramses' office late at night; it was clear to see they were more than friends. Some part of him wanted to laugh just thinking about Trojan's bedside manner.

A frown appeared remembering Ariya teasing him about the same thing.

He would never see her again.

Casting it out of his mind, he faced back towards the wall to find the room had expanded, the far wall with targets gone.

On the other side of this now mirrored room, though with variably less attendants behind the plexiglass over there, stood a single figure.

His hair was dreaded and tied back in a wild sprout around the back of his head. Hair as jet as his fur.

And his eyes were blue, a light and vibrant blue.

It didn't make him any less of a blooded Trojan, though.

Jared.

Jared? Jared Trojan?

The same light blue eyes reflected onto his right arm, the Janus scars glowing the same, intricate patterns showing extreme use.

Ramses' nephew was an afflict...?

But wasn't he supposed to be, like, ten or something-

Lucian's eyes widened as the mirror's arm sparked and he barely moved aside as a blast of blue energy arced over his shoulder.

The otter looked for cover as the blasts continued but it was all he could do to stay out of the way, there was no defense in Janus duels, only the opposite.

Giving a look back to Ramses he only saw the jackal grinning, Dr. Winston simply studious.

Loyalty? Was that the test? Would he fail if he fought back?

Jared drew back an arm and flames arced from the ground and towards Lucian, the otter moving aside once more as they hit the wall and spread across the plexiglass a moment.

Jared was emotionless.

Deciding to do something at least, Lucian sent a low-power blast that hit Jared in the chest.

But it sent the jackal onto his back and rolling a short distance, staggering up.

Any blast connecting was a near-guaranteed kill, but only because it jailed for a follow up attack.

He let Jared shakily stand, clutching his chest which had a few wisps of smoke curling off of it.

Lucian attributed the hit to a sudden retaliation from reckless attack, but if Jared was experienced...

Just the initial shock of Ramses having an afflict up his sleeve was still reverberating through him.

Giving another look back to Ramses, this time Lucian let forth a slightly lesser blast.

Jared grabbed it in his hand.

It took him a moment to process, well into his next action, that Jared was holding a ball of green light that didn't even belong to him.

The jackal's hand quivered as he contained it, but staring Lucian in the eyes, he crushed it with a fizz and the emission of steam.

It was like catching the light from a torch; the only way to even dodge these crude attacks was to see the aim and move quickly.

Giving another regretful look towards the plexiglass, he now saw the tinted scars from abuse of this sort.

None of it was his.

Lucian intercepted one of Jared's beams with one of his own, a white flash and a tremor making them both fall onto their backs.

No, just Lucian...

Jared began to physically advance, running towards Lucian as the otter struggled to get up.

Just as he'd shown his adversary mercy earlier... Though he didn't think mercy was Jared's game.

As Lucian stood he dodged a glowing blue kick, something he'd never seen before.

Moving into stance for a moment, he started moving out of the way as the heat from Jared's fists came at him.

It was clear he was the inexperienced one.

Lucian didn't even know Jared Trojan was here, let alone a verdammt afflict... He hadn't seen him anywhere along the compound before.

Was he supposed to kill Jared? Was that the test, to the death? Because he sure wasn't being given quarter-

As one of Jared's fists struck Lucian under the chin, his lights flickered out and he seemed to take forever to hit the ground.

Muffled sounds, a buzzer.

After a moment he felt something pick him up.

Nn... He was dead. Surely.

He'd already made it through an explosion and it cost him half of his face. Getting uppercut was something else but when it was followed with whatever technique Jared was using...

But as a mild shock passed through him, his eyes snapped open and the pain went away.

Looking around he was behind the plexiglass on some sort of cot, Ramses the only one paying attention to him.

"I wanted a real fight, Krause."

"Your nephew..."

"That's not exactly Jared Trojan."

"...Explain, please."

Ramses gave a sigh, as if he'd done this many times before.

"My nephew is an afflict, that's why I began a private sect of the Janus initiative here at Trojan. But he is going on 10 years old at the moment. What you fought was an experimental clone. That's why I was letting you kill him."

"When you say clone, I don't think of something so perfect"-

"Jinn's clones run around missing half a face or an arm or something of the like. Ours have been perfected for decades. And the GRA doesn't know we have our own afflicts, so let's keep it that way."

"...What game are you playing, Trojan?"

By his use of Trojan maybe he meant on a grander scale.

How many times had Ramses referred to the GRA as a separate entity?

"You'll find out when I see fit to tell you, Krause. You have the rest of today off, report back here tomorrow." He silenced Dr. Winston with a glare.

///

Marshall

Vervous Magnatrain Station, Norway, Scandinavian Union

December 4th, 0600 hours

As he stepped out he got a feeling of vertigo. He attributed it to magnatrain sickness but he'd gotten past that shit years ago...

Nope, it was turning into some kind of headache...

He stopped in the doorway and held his head for a moment, teeth coming together.

"LEFTENANT! Shit, I think he's gone..."

He wasn't breathing, a razor blade in his chest and the track it had made grinding up it marked in his very own red insides.

Razor-4 leaned over him, then fired down the hallway before he himself was torn to pieces.

"Marshall?"

A hand on his shoulder, almost vertically reaching up for it.

He realized he was blocking the doorway, and moved so G201 could get off the magnatrain. God knows the thing was going to take off as soon as the last passenger was an inch out the door.

Still cleaning up the mess that was Thailand... And they would be for a long time.

Rochelle didn't further her query, simply giving him a strange look over the shoulder as she walked towards the van.

They were leaving the magnatrain station. Right...

It was a distinct scent this time that caught him, and it didn't matter if his nose was an inch or a mile away. He was a wolf, he was trained for scents, and that specific scent would wake him from a coma.

That perfume.

In a hushed tone he told Jacques to go ahead back to base, that he would come along later.

As Marshall disappeared in the crowd he followed the scent that was almost teasingly left for him.

She'd done it before.

He still didn't know how, it never seemed to affect anyone else...

He lay there, Albatross Island having been left a few days now. And all of G119 was slain.

But that didn't happen...

Clutching his head, all of it was hitting him like a truck more vertically dropping than driving at him.

What the hell-

He caught his first glimpse of her, disappearing up the stairs.

This was one of the many rush hours in which all the trains would get here at the same time, and he fought his way through the crowd.

As he got to the other exit, a smirk around the corner.

Or maybe it was just the feeling she dropped behind in the air...

If he'd knocked someone over barreling through the crowd like a battering ram to an anthill he wouldn't know.

A little more Marshall caved away; and for a moment he was Private First Class Davenport again.

As Marshall emerged from the exit and onto Vervous' bright lit and busy commercial downtown, the smirk disappeared in an alleyway.

It was a trap, surely. But he didn't know anyone that would personally fuck with him on this level.

Another splitting headache.

"Hardest bastard I ever knew... They say one of the highest kill counts in GRA history."

"There goes a legend."

"Any family to send a letter to?"

"He was the loneliest man on Earth... You know, after G01 was disbanded, way back in the day, they killed his parents and his sister. Fucked with his head so he wouldn't"-

Shaking it out like a feral shakes the twig caught in its fur, Marshall stormed down the alleyway with the bull barrel in his hand.

No one there. He didn't have to flick on his thermals.

In fact, the glasses were going. He told himself a long time ago it was fucking stupid to wear them indoors and at night, but he slept with them sometimes.

Absently he began to ascend the wall onto the roof, like they did back in Canada.

Back when life was worth living for your own sake.

He gave a grunt as he made it up. Marshall could eat bullets for cereal but climbing was something else.

1. Years of strain and getting to that age were catching up on him.

Nicole would be 39.

As he approached her, she was sitting on the edge of the building looking out. He hadn't realized but the alley was actually an incline, over the roof of the magnatrain station. This building was higher.

"Why are you here?"

"It's been almost 20 years... Ach, you never were good with your words."

Nicole turned around, the moon setting against her fur, dark gray shining with an almost feline glow to her folf's graceful body.

As she laid eyes upon him her smug look faded.

"...You are Marshall, aren't you...?"

"20 years enough to forget my name, too?"

Nicole stood up and walked over, footsteps making no noise. Marshall noted the clear outline of a Trojan collapsible rifle on her back.

"Oh, god, what did they do to you...?"

Her slender hand wavered up to his face, fingers grazing along one of the many scars.

"...It was to protect my identity."

"Mmh... When I saw you in the station I could have sworn I saw those beautiful blue eyes..."-

"Speaking of, what exactly are you doing in Vervous?"

A playful sulk came to her face.

"What's it to you, anyways? It's not your sector."

"I'm in charge of a black ops squadron Northeast of here."

She was a prodigal hacker; she already knew about all that anyways.

"Well... I fell into contract killing after they dissolved us. You know, everyone in the original squadron is either dead or in hiding?"

"I haven't kept up."

"Not like you to..."

She walked over to the edge of the roof, this time he followed her.

He didn't really feel anymore, but something came over him.

"It's still early, you know. There are a few nice coffee places around." He cleared his throat afterwards, looking away as if he hadn't just...

...

And he was feeling again.

"I was thinking more un hôtel chambre..."

"Je ne parle pas français."

"It was practically English."

As the moon disappeared their eyes met.

She was excellent at manipulating, too.

Everything he could never be.

With a sigh, Marshall fished his phone out of his coat pocket.

Waited a moment.

"Yes, Leftenant?"

"Isaac... I'll be back later tonight." A hand on his arm. "Tomorrow, actually. Something came up."

"Affirmative. Take care."

As he hung up another feeling came over him. He had an afflict to check on, damn it...

"You need any help getting off this roof, wolfie?"

She'd always called him wolfie; because it pissed him off.

Christ, he hadn't been with a woman, anyone, in forever and the butterflies had gone to little atom bombs in his stomach...

"I'll manage."

Another damned smirk.

///

Tai

G201 House, Norway

December 4th, 0700 hours

I think what jarred me from sleep was the snow pressing into my face. I was so tired afterwards that I could have fallen into a coma...

Upon realizing I wasn't in my bed but lying on the ground outside... In my pajamas, to mention, it still took me a while to get up.

I could scarcely tell where my feet ended and the snow began, the three cat digits buried under the snow of the same color.

I'd touched the hardwood floor of the commons after the door had been open for awhile but that was as cold as my feet usually got.

Honestly I was too tired to even question what the hell was going on. What jarred me out of that was the still-dripping black spraypaint now on the side of the house.

And the can in my hand.

"What..." I said to myself, looking between the two.

It was barely legible, I couldn't read the last part at all because it was in Latin.

The other was cryptically 'A wolf among sheep'.

Once more I looked between the message on the wall and myself.

Message...

Was this what Ariya was trying to send me? It didn't just pop into my thoughts like I was thinking it would, I subconsciously wrote it down?

On the fucking side of the house?

The can. I had to get rid of the can.

I thought about tossing it but my brain began to go into overdrive like it had a while ago when I was talking to Riddick... I wasn't doing anything but my body was moving.

I aimed the spraypaint at the snow and fired a black splotch onto it.

Confused for a moment, the thought that if I had done it my fingerprints were likely on the trigger entered my mind. Best if I'd just found the thing, and being unaccustomed not known what it did.

Going with the green bid, I spraypainted my pajama bottoms before tossing the can aside.

Yeah. I didn't know what spraypaint was. In Gibraltar heads on pikes marked territory and blood was tags. Go with it when they-

And there were footsteps.

No more alibis came to me as Kyle and a few others rounded the corner.

One of them was a cheetah I-

Lio. Lio de la Rocha... From Connecticut...

I stood dumbfounded for a moment, but I didn't have time for any of that.

"...Tai?" I expected Jacques to have a French accent but he was all the same, the only difference what he went by.

"I heard banging outside the house so I ran outside to come and see." It wasn't directly under my bedroom window but it wasn't unlikely I would have heard it.

"...In your pajamas?"

"I was scared there was an intruder or something. I had to get out here fast."

"Well don't freeze out here- wait, did you spraypaint yourself?"

"I didn't know it was spraypaint... Until I spraypainted myself, that is."

"Well, that means you've contaminated evidence with your fingerprints."

Well... I did that on purpose.

As Isaac rounded the corner behind me, I turned to face him.

The first thing I noticed was the heavy scarring. Isaac was no longer so handsome as he was before, no charming grin on his face but a dead frown. And his brogue was much weaker, no longer roguish.

"S-sorry about that... I wasn't thinking."

I wasn't, actually. My body was moving for me.

"What is that, Latin?" Isaac got closer. I was between Jacques, Kyle, and Lio and him.

Omnibus locis fit caedes

"...Let there be slaughter."

Kyle had been at the back of the group but was now standing beside me, somehow having silently broken through the snow to me.

Where I would have been unnerved I was just glad I was closer to someone than Isaac.

"A wolf among sheep, let there be slaughter. What does it mean?"

"A wolf among sheep could mean a lot of things... Let there be slaughter isn't an aphorism."

Everyone stood there for a moment. My feet were cold.

"A traitor?"

I wasn't sure who offered it, but it wasn't me or Isaac.

"A traitor among us, let there be slaughter."

Another long silence.

"...Let's go inside. It's probably some local trying to fuck with us but the cameras will show us the truth."

The cameras... Fuck.

What if it wasn't me, though? I didn't recall it after all. But it would be hard to explain why I woke up outside either way.

"We're a black ops class, tier 4 squadron. No locals even know this site exists."

"Which means it's compromised," Isaac finished. "We'll have to talk to Marshall about relocating base."

"Damn. Really liked this place." I looked over to Lio; he had never been here.

But, no, that memory of Isaac making the new scar in my ear, Lio was right there yelling at him.

And there was someone else, I didn't know them.

"Where is Leftenant Marshall anyways?"

"Something came up."

"Always busy... It'll be the death of him."

We walked back inside, the message tolling on us but we pretended it didn't.

///

"Tai... Get in here."

Isaac's door had been open; I hadn't ever been inside his room or even seen the inside of it. And I didn't think he was in there either.

I'd been grabbing something from the kitchen... Most of the day was spent trying to get back to sleep so I could talk to Ariya but when you'd passed out so hard you woke up outside and spraypainted latin in your sleep you didn't really want to go back under.

For a moment I hesitated but he saw me standing by the door, so I didn't have much of a choice in the matter.

Walking in there was a dim camping lantern in one corner. Another relapsing memory came to me of Isaac getting pissed off one day and punching his ceiling fan's light. I wasn't there obviously, I'd just heard about it.

It was midday, but he always had a blanket draped over the window for whatever reason so it was like night all the time.

Through the dim light I saw the shadows of so many bottles that it made Riddick look sober... Isaac liked Russian spirit, I guessed. None of those pills or edibles or anything like Riddick had, though.

He was in a chair, his face cast into shadow, eyes not bright enough to show through it.

I sat across from him in a chair, and the door mechanically slid shut behind me.

For about thirty seconds, we sat in silence. I didn't know how much of my face he could see so I didn't look at him.

I couldn't see jack shit... Only the bottles, the dresser they were on, and the outline of the fox in front of me.

"You pissed off Trojan, from what I hear...?"

"I-I'm sorry about that. I won't make excuses. I said something really dumb and it hit too hard."

"Mmh. You know, the weak can be destroyed with bullets... But the hardest soldiers are always brought down with words."

I could see Isaac saying something like that in the other timeline, maybe everything he'd said so far.

But he'd changed down to his face.

"Egyptians... And Trojans especially... They get you with their eyes. Because they contrast so much with their fur, you'll stare at em, get dizzy... And they'll have you just like that... See some kid on the street looking up at you all pitiful and when you come close he pulls a gun. Lot of Jinn supporters in East Africa. But they can do whatever they want with you. Throw you away when they get bored of you... She'll do that. Watch out for her."

He'd picked up on my feelings for her.

We were closer in this timeline; she'd spoken to me like less of a training partner and awkward interest and more like a friend.

Or maybe we weren't as close.

Isaac seemed easier to talk to drunk than sober, some people were like that.

"...Do you know about what happened to Reyna when she was a kid?"

I wanted to see if there was still that immeasurable tragedy in her life, that made her who she was.

"Yeah. It's public info, when she was 12 her parents got gunned down on a business trip."

12... That knocked some years off.

"Was she there when it happened?"

Isaac didn't give me any strange looks that said 'you should know this,' but that was probably the drink.

There was still that unnerving feeling I had about him, though, always lingering. Maybe it wasn't the drink. Maybe he just knew who I was and what I'd done... And didn't react weird because of it.

Or maybe that was an incredibly specific conclusion to come to. And I should treat it as null.

"No, it was a business trip. You generally don't take your kids on those. The only real impact it had on her life, in case you're wondering, is that she got raised full time by her uncle. Reyna hardly ever saw her parents because they wouldn't fucking take care of her or Jared. She was raised by her uncle."

I stared at the silhouette, where the eyes would have been.

Maybe my conclusion was correct.

"I'm not your enemy, Tai."

"...Then what are you?"

"Captain Isaac Broderick, 7 years service. Inverness. Alcatraz-1. Your leader."

For another thirty seconds we were quiet, every moment getting ever closer to the boiling point.

"Me, and you, Tai... We're one and the same. We want the same thing. One day, you'll understand me. You'll understand me, because you'll be me."

I had no answer to that.

To this day I know it wasn't just some strange high thought that somehow made it out his mouth but I have no idea what that even meant.

But maybe I do have a fix on Isaac. Or a little bit of one.

He handed me what he'd been drinking from, too dark to read the label but it was shaped like the stronger stuff, and I saw the faded Scottish flag as a sort of sticker near the neck.

"Go on. It would be rude not to."

With a wince, I drank a short gulp and nearly as soon as it touched my lips pulled away, trying not to hack at the horrible taste and the burning sensation.

Handing it back, I clutched at my ribs.

Fuck... I'd had alcohol once before, back when I was maybe 8 or so. Some guy got me drunk and was about to do god knows what before another guy shot him and saved me.

I still didn't remember hardly anything from back then...

But this was the first time I'd tasted hard, leathery type that you'd drink just to be high.

"You don't trust me, Tai. And that's okay. I wouldn't. Hell, I don't. But you know what...?"

He coughed.

"You know what," the fox resumed, "I'd fuckin' die for you, kid. Just as I'd die for anyone on this team. I'd die for some random just passing by. Because I'm a soldier. And I'm in the GRA. And I'm expendable."

His hand drew closer and I recoiled before a finger jabbed my chest.

"And you're expendable. No matter how special everyone might think you are..."

Again, I had no answer.

Isaac leaned back in his chair like a puppet with cut strings, or rather, one that the puppeteer let go. The light hit his face, but just cast a thin line across his eyes, and I could see a dark shape that was his muzzle moving.

"I fell in love with my squadmate when I was... Two years into service. Her name was Asala. She was Trojan... But distantly. Lived in the South African Union when she joined up..."

I pictured Reyna, of course.

"No, she was sort of gray more than straight jet. Still black furred for the most part but lighter. And her eyes were almost red. Fuckin' Trojans, and their eyes, man..."

The way he was answering the questions that weren't even but random thoughts I'd grabbed for a moment made my blood run cold.

No, Isaac wasn't anything but a normal guy who knew how to get in your head. Deep. Further than you wanted him to go.

Or at least I thought.

"I was stationed in the SAU after they realized it would be a waste keeping me sitting around in Inverness or Glasglow. Was in her fireteam. That's how I met her."

He coughed again, then violently hacked before taking a swig from his bottle.

When I'd held it, it felt heavy, but through the brief moment in the light I realized it had hardly anything in it anymore. He was taking light swigs, too.

"Guys and girls bunk in the same room there. That's just their culture. Eat together, sleep together, die together. So as a foreigner I... Heh..."

He smiled just for a moment.

"We did engineering shit together. It was navy type shit back there, Jinn likes to pepper the coast since we don't guard it well. But we just did repairs. And we would always work together, just the two of us. So it was inevitable. They don't act any different, they just don't oversexualize things... Honestly it's a little indecent for us to be sharing a house with Rochelle and Rey and Mari. In my book. But to GRA it's like telling from a hammer and a screwdriver. You can pretty much do the same fucking thing with them. So they're the same."

"At least we have separate rooms."

"Honestly it makes me feel lonely at night, not bunking with anyone... But like I was saying, we fell in love. And on off time we'd go into the city and act like civs. And no one would be the wiser... But I got transferred back to Scotland because the situation was heating up. Well, she used her Trojan connections to go with me."

He grinned for a moment, shaking his head.

"You know, once my contract was up I was going to marry her. We'd move to Central Africa, where nobody has stake. And we'd... Live."

He stared at the floor for about thirty seconds.

Isaac was 25 in the old timeline. He'd joined at 18.

Something went wrong.

"So when she died in my arms in the siege of Glasglow, I was a dead man. I couldn't live. So I was ready to die for anyone. I threw myself in front of my squadmates at every turn. They slowly got picked off. And we had broken in too far, been taken into Glasglow, gone too far ahead... So it wasn't about the mission then. It was survival."

I saw a tear drip down his eye, his grip on the bottle tightened so hard I thought it would explode.

"We got picked off. First Rodney. And then Marcia. Alan. Viktoria. It was just me and two others then... And Jinn found us. We were cornered. I escaped but went back in for them, got them out ok... Do you wanna know... What they did to me, Tai?"

He took the deepest swig, I wouldn't have thought there was enough left in the bottle.

"They shot me because they knew Jinn would get slowed down when they finished me off. And they left me for dead, of course."

In my timeline Isaac had gotten hit with a car bomb and left for dead all the same, I'd find out later, but...

I didn't see how anyone could be so heartless.

If Isaac would die for me, I resolved...

I would die for him.

"Well, I was taken prisoner. Most of the scars I got are from getting fucked up over there. When they freed Glasglow, actually, I got shot by a friendly because he thought I was with Jinn. But I made it through that, too."

He sighed.

Another thirty seconds.

"Your eyes, Tai, they're like a Trojan's. Gold on white... They're fuckin' beautiful..."

Color came to my face as he stared into me.

"...You know, if you were a girl, I'd probably kiss you right now."

"I-Isaac"-

"I'm drunk, I can't help it."

Giving a chuckle, he looked at the bottle for a moment before handing it to me.

I took it.

It was fucking heavy again, and I looked in to make sure it wasn't just me being weak. No, it was full again. Same bottle, same Scot flag. I didn't question it.

Well...

It would be rude not to.

This time I took the biggest swig I could bear to, swallowing it like a pill before getting back and coughing a little. A lot. I gave a weak look to him, his grin as sly and flashy as it was back there.

The scars didn't fuck up how handsome he was. If I said that earlier I take it back.

I handed the bottle back. "You need it more than me."

He gave a hard laugh, a weathered and leathery one, before going back to hacking for a moment.

Polished off that bottle.

My head hurt more than my ribs now.

I'd forgotten I'd just taken a drink, actually. I didn't even feel the pain until then.

...

Holy shit, I was high.

"Now get the fuck outta here. Go run sims or something, you bum."

He laughed as I staggered out, the door shutting behind him.

Me. The door shut behind me.

I wasn't sure how to feel. I felt lightheaded and like someone was kind of picking me up a little off the ground, but that's beside the point.

I liked Isaac, I think.

Riddick would definitely like him. In the old timeline I was pretty sure he had a crush on Isaac.

But... Everyone just seemed to despise him because of how much of a dick he was.

Maybe I just liked Isaac when he drunk.

As I came to that conclusion it was like losing a friend but only halfway.

I went back to my room and fucking crashed.

///

Marshall

"You said we would have until tomorrow..."

He buttoned up his shirt, not bothering to look at the flirtatious and yet pouty smirk.

Or he would probably end up staying until tomorrow.

"We're not kids anymore. We don't have forever."

Nicole gave a sigh, pulling the sheets back up over herself.

"I'll stick around in Vervous for a while... If you help me find my target?"

Marshall gave a sigh.

It wasn't him. It wasn't GRA.

...

Who was he kidding, he wasn't some fucking GRA drone. He was, but he didn't have to act like one.

"Who you looking for?"

Half- most of him expected a young domestic cat, snow fur.

"He's a panther. Son of some Jinn warlord or something like that. I do a lot of operating in this area and one of my regular customers saw him coming in, so that's that."

A sigh of far more than just relief.

"Well, if I see him, I'll let you know."

Marshall pulled on his coat and reached for his shades to find they weren't there.

Turning around, Nicole was looking at them, trying to find the thermals button.

He gave a sigh.

"Marshall?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you love me?"

Silence.

She rolled her eyes.

"Always so careful. I could love you. I certainly love you in bed."

Marshall scowled.

"What happened to the old Nicole?"

"...I made it quick and painless."

With a frown, Marshall took his glasses back and walked out.

As soon as he shut the door another headache hit him, and he nearly doubled over in shock.

"Good evening, Alcatraz. My name is Caine, and I will be your new overseer. I'm sorry to hear about Leftenant Marshall's passing. He will be missed."

Gritting his teeth, Marshall collected himself, breathing heavily for a moment.

Something was going down.

Another headache, but this one was milder.

"You're not supposed to have this, but I'm giving it to you. Everything we know about your case. Prior knowledge. Your papers. Everything you need is here."

The dossier. He'd forgotten to give it to Tai back there...

But he remembered doing it...

...

Marshall was going to have a talk with Alcatraz-J when he got back.

///

Tai

February 23rd, Unknown Location

Night

It was a sudden wave of frustration and he threw the recording device across the room.

Perhaps the realization that this wasn't the past anymore- he was here in this room.

Day and night had passed at least twice now.

And he hadn't eaten, either... He hadn't even drunk anything.

Leaning against the wall of the hut, he looked out at the moon.

Wondered what time it was in Norway.

If that was even G201 headquarters still... After all 3 had just up and left and after he'd made the worst mistake of his life...

Maybe there was no G201.

Tai would never forgive himself, even if he was just putting the poor bastard out of his misery.

But they'd all been at each other's throats in the end... Someone had to snap.

As the door opened Tai scrambled away from it, unceremoniously rolling to the middle of the room and watching intently.

Garcia was shoved in, tripping on the doorframe and faceplanting right on his muzzle.

Tai stood and rushed at the door but it closed, and he wasn't able to get a good look outside.

Standing at the door, he punched it once for good measure and ignored the coyote's groans.

"Fuckin' hell, man..."

"What happened to you? Who the hell are these people?"

Gritting his teeth and looking away a moment, he was getting tired of this shit...

For no good reason he punched Garcia across the face with special attention to the muzzle, and the coyote crumpled again.

"What the hell, Tai?!"

"IF YOU DON'T ANSWER MY GODDAMN QUESTION, I'M GOING TO FUCKING"-

"JUST SHUT UP, CHRISSAKES!"

They stared at each other for a moment, the coyote on one knee with his hand wiping the blood from his muzzle.

Tai walked over to the recording device and snatched it up.

He sank against the wall.

"We're going to die here."

"What the fuck is wrong with you? You touch me again I'm going to fucking kill you... And I'm getting out of here"-

"Don't fucking come back for me, I just want to die."

Garcia stood and spat blood on the floor, wiping his mouth again and then repeating the action at the balcony.

Tai watched the coyote indifferently, leaning against the railing and looking out at the moon.

It was their only light but it was good one, somehow the moon was larger and closer than he'd ever seen it before.

The world mocking him with beauty, because it was the best it could do.

"Why did you come to me in Antartica, Tai? Why drop everything on a whim?"

"...I thought nothing was worth it anymore. And I wanted to hide away... Like you."

Garcia gave a chuckle. "Rude awakening when you saw the compound was already occupied, huh?"

Tai didn't give anything.

"I was thinking you'd be long dead. And I could cure myself with your research."

"...You want to get rid of your disease? Do you know how much of a gift it is?"

"It's just that. A disease. I... I want to be normal."

A moment of silence passed between them.

Garcia had never wanted it gone; it was the only thing he had sometimes.

The only thing that kept him breathing. Literally.

"I left them."

Garcia turned back around. "Who?"

Wincing, Tai put his head in his hands...

"Everyone that got behind me in the end... Riddick, Lynx, Kyle, god knows where they are now... Probably dead. And I left them behind."

"You had to."

"I could have gone back for them."

"Less than... What, 100 hours or so I busted you out of a max security torture cell. You couldn't have done shit."

Tai huffed.

"Well, I wager if you could port us out of here you would have done it already... So we'll just have to bust out the old-fashioned"-

"That won't be necessary, Alcatraz."

Tai snapped back over to the door, that woman from earlier was standing there.

Garcia used her name... Jabari. The leader.

She didn't come alone, a giant of a panther and a damn sabertooth just behind her.

But even before that Tai took in the arms, the intricate patterns on the flanking two...

And Jabari's scar tissue, worn from so much use Tai didn't think it was possible.

"Speaker. Come with me."

Garcia started forward for a moment but then shrank back to his original position... Tai took note.

Standing up, there was only one other person in the room.

Just another interrogation.

As Tai walked out wordlessly, upon crossing the threshold the night lit up with all sorts of huts and wooden houses, primitive lanterns and people walking all over.

And most of them were stopping and staring at him... And they all had markings on their arms.

"What is this place...?"

"The only place our kind is accepted, Tai. In the most remote area of Central Africa, the Dead Zone. Beyond anyone's reach."

It took the cat a good ten seconds before he realized he was walking on a shaky bridge above the ground structures, houses on tall stilts forming it into a road of sorts.

This was a city... A primitive city.

"I understand you have many questions. I will answer all of them."

He didn't wager, then, at least, that Jabari knew anything of importance, so he simply badgered her with questions about the place itself.

The caracal explained it was the home of the Janus Tribe, a settlement of just what it sounded like.

As she went on about infrastructure and location and god knows, the realization that there were more than 25 accounted for afflicts in the entire world hit Tai like a mach truck.

"How do you"-

"Hide this place? The GRA has no interest in Africa besides Egypt and the SAU. And neither does the Land of Free Peoples. Our borders are nuclear wastelands before the lush forests."

Jabari took a turn left at a sort of crossroads in the bridge, someone walked past them and shot Tai a strange look.

It occurred to him that he could run... But he felt at calm.

And, for that matter, that feeling of water in your head that told you someone was influencing your thoughts.

He struggled but it was like getting out of bed in the morning, just with much less willpower.

As they came to a hut on stilts raised to their level, a shard of pain plunged through Tai's skull.

With a gasp, everything went dark.

///