Book 2 Prologue 3

Sonya took a little time to flirt with one of the guards as they made their way into the prison. The brunette was about as receptive as any hardened law enforcement professional was, and given what she’d been through with Martin, Sonya decided that maybe they were a group she could do without interacting with too much. Still, she was able to get in to speak with the kid who was already being called “Riot” by the locals.

She stepped through the door and found him sitting at an interview desk with both wrists held tightly by shackles. Her lips thinned. He was shaking, his eyes downcast, and his shoulders hunched. His heartbeat was all over the place, and based on what she could get from his physique and what she knew about his ability, there was absolutely no reason to have him shackled like that.

“Get that off of him,” Sonya growled at the guard.

The woman frowned at her but complied, unlocking the shackles and storming off in a huff. Sonya squinted at her before turning back to the boy with all smiles. “Today’s your lucky day, Ollie!”

He stared at her in confusion for a few seconds, giving her a chance to look him over. He was thin, with brown hair and dark eyes that shone a bit behind his glasses. He was in a fairly standard prison outfit that looked far too big for him. He seemed to finally take in her words and sat forward. "You… called me Ollie.”

Sonya tilted her head. "Should I not?”

He flushed and looked down at his wrists. "Everybody calls me Riot.”

Sonya shrugged. "Eh, it’s not my first choice for a codename. Mine’s Farsight!” she said and sat down, pulling off her sunglasses and setting them aside. He looked up at her and gaped for a moment before looking away. “Oh, don’t be shy. They’re just creepy, glowing, clicking spheres in my head. What’s to fret about, right?”

He blinked and then laughed. His shoulders relaxed, and he looked up at her. “Um, I didn’t get your name.”

“Sonya Chernovna,” Sonya said politely and extended a hand. "It’s very nice to meet you, Ollie. I’m here to give you a chance to turn your life around.”

He took her hand in his. “M-me?” he asked. She focused on her HUD as his eyes went wide with awe.

Analyze.

<You have acquired the Product: Karmic Threads>

Oh, interesting. I didn’t know Karma was a real thing.

“Yes, you,” she said brightly. “You see, my lawyer, Colin, has informed me that there area few caveats to getting you out of here. You did make a bit of a mess, and the Tennessee State Government is not willing to let it go easily.”

He bowed his head. "I tried to stop it.”

“Your gift is new,” she said gently. "It’s not your fault. I understand.”

A tear streamed down from his right eye, and he swallowed hard. “S-so what do I have to do to make things right?”

“Well, you need someone to vouch for you first. That’s me, by the way, so don’t make me regret it!” She chuckled and waggled a finger at him. He shrank a bit, and she winked reassuringly. “The second thing is you need to be assigned to some sort of community service or rehabilitation program to prove you’re trying to turn over a new leaf. We both know there’s no leaf to turn over, but legal hoops, right?”

He nodded. "Right.”

She steepled her fingers. "So, here’s what we’re going to do. The Pandora Committee is hosting a program in about four months that will be intended to test, prepare, and train prospective new heroes. Field experience is great, but not everyone is built to hit the ground running,” she glanced at his arms. "No offense.”

He stared at her, ignoring the comment in favor of gaping. “W-what? Me? A hero?”

“What better way to make up for what happened than to help people with your ability?” Sonya asked. "Sounds like a good deal to me. You do well, turn things around, keep your nose clean, and not only will you get your license, but…” She trailed off and slid a document across the table. He glanced at it and looked up at her again. She smirked. "I happen to own a corporation that sponsors heroes. Like athletes. You know, income.”

“You’re offering me a job?”

“I’m offering you a sponsorship on the condition that you don’t break a single rule at that camp,” Sonya said. “You keep your head above water, and your life will turn around for the better.”

She was about to reach out to take his hand when she felt something strange rise up in her chest. Her Heavenly Jade Heart pumped mana once, and words appeared in the heads-up display that came with her mechanical eyes.

<Possible intervention target found. Activate Deus Ex Machina?>

Before she could react, he was on his feet. “Yes! I would-” he stammered. "-Yes! I-I won’t let you down! I p-promise! Thank you, ma’am!”

He took her hand, and curiosity got the better of her.

Yes.

The sensation was… there was no sensation. No change, nothing. She blinked a little in confusion before pushing down the disappointment. Her ability hadn’t reacted like that before. Was there something about the kid? Or maybe… ah hell, I have no idea how this damn thing works. She pushed off the feeling and returned his enthusiasm. “Great!” she elated. "Now, I do have some bad news for you,” she said and scratched her nose. “I’m still figuring out how to get you out early, so, uh… you might have to hang out for a little bit longer.”

He sighed and sat back down. Even so, he was all smiles. His eyes danced around her and sparkled. “Don’t worry, with a light at the end of the tunnel, I think I might be able to make it through.”

—

Beyol was troubled.

The streets of Moscow were beautiful as always. It was a sunny day despite the chill that came with the first touches of winter. He didn’t mind it. His shadows were colder. The coat that the Mistress had insisted he wear helped, of course. The slacks, too, and the designer shirt, and the new shoes. He was a bit confused about why she was so insistent he wear something different. T-shirts and jeans were cheap and practical, and for someone who got blood on himself often, it seemed more sensible just to wear something disposable.

It wasn’t a bad thing, though, and it helped him blend in a bit better with all the other people who were walking around the streets of the Russian capital. Few looked his way, though a few smiled at him with amusement for some reason. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why. He rounded a corner and spotted his destination, a cafe. He liked coffee. That put him in a good mood. Yes, the sun was out, the air was crisp, and he had coffee to look forward to. Still, though, he was troubled.

Something soft pressed against his arm again, and he looked down at the mess of off-gray hair highlighted with flashes of purple attached to the head rubbing against his arm. He felt that softness again as well as the narrow arms of the troubling woman who was gripping onto him like a vice. He raised an eyebrow and once more wondered what on Earth was wrong with this woman. He had spent a short time dealing with some gnolls on her behalf, and all of a sudden she was glued to him every time they were assigned together.

He sighed and glanced around as Veloce - she still hadn’t picked her new villain name yet - mumbled something about fruits.

“Date, date, date, date, it’s a date.” Veloce sing-songed against his arm, barely audible since her face seemed to be attached to his coat. 

He scratched his nose. He didn’t hate the attention, but it confused him a great deal. He hadn’t been prepared for this kind of thing back during his training, so he had no real frame of reference to work with. Why is she so interested in fruit? He thought to himself. Does she like dates? Should I get her some? Would that make her happy? He glanced down at her again. She seems happy already, he sighed again. I don’t understand.

He walked into the cafe and up to the counter, and a young woman greeted them with a small smile. "Hi! Welcome! Can I make anything for you?”

“Two coffees, please,” he said, pulling out some cash from his wallet that he unfortunately had to move from its usual pocket because of his new ‘attachment.’

“Sure! Would your lady friend like anything sweet to go with it?” The woman asked brightly.

Beyol considered the question before leaning in and holding his hand up to whisper. "You wouldn’t happen to have any dates? She apparently likes them quite a bit.”

The woman blinked and then gave him a deadpan look. It was the same look the Mistress gave him all the time these days. Why did women look at him like that when he was with Veloce? The woman looked down at Veloce with a pitying look before taking out a tart from a display and setting it down next to the two coffees she prepared and handing it to them. He paid quickly and led Veloce over to a table.

“We need to sit, Veloce,” he grunted.

Veloce looked up at him with bright yellow eyes, her appearance having changed so much since the Mistress had blessed her. A big grin spread on her face before she glanced over at the table and the small tray with a treat and coffee in his free hand. Her eyes sparkled, and she darted off his arm to sit in the chair, swaying merrily as he set the two coffees down and the tart, which he assumed had dates in it, in front of her. She looked down at the treat and brightened even more, if that was possible, before looking up at him with a big smile. "You’re so sweet.”

“Am I?” He grunted and sat down, taking his blessedly strong black coffee in his hand and sipping.

“Mhm,” she mumbled, a full piece of the tart already in her mouth.

“We have work to do after this,” he said stiffly.

“I know, I know. Boss lady wants us to go poke around a bit, cultist supplier or something or other,” Veloce said, waving her hand. "No worries, I got it.”

He raised an eyebrow. "Have you given your name any thought?” He asked in a low voice.

She pursed her lips and looked away. "Always busy-talk with you. Good thing you’re cute,” she said and tilted her head left and right. "Yeah, I got a few books from her that have some great ideas in them. I’ll come up with something soon.”

“You’ve been saying that for months,” he pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I get distracted,” she shrugged, picking at her black fingernails. She wore a heavy coat, but the rest of her ensemble was decidedly not for cold weather. A punk outfit with a torn shirt and ripped jeans that exposed enough skin to make him flush a little if he looked too hard. For some reason, that seemed to make her laugh when it happened. She was messing with him somehow; he knew it. Still, it was the new look she was going for as a reborn supervillain.

She took a sip of her coffee and glanced out the window. "Wish we could just, you know, deal with the problem instead of being all stealthy.”

“Only if it’s as bad as she suspects,” he reminded her. "We’re not here to make a mess.”

She puffed out a breath. "No fun! No fun!” She whined and threw her head back, slumping against the chair. "Fine. I’ll be good, but only if you buy me dinner later, somewhere nice.”

He glanced down at his attire. He figured it was suitable for a nice restaurant later. "Alright, I suppose that isn’t a bad deal. I will buy you dinner at a reputable restaurant this evening after we’re done.”

“Two dates in one day,” she sighed, leaning forward on her elbow and cupping her chin with her hand. "You know how to take care of a girl, Beyol,” she said, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Again with the fruits. Is it addictive?

“You can have plenty of fruit tarts or whatever you like when we go,” he said flatly and sipped his coffee, turning to look out the window as well. Across the street was their target, an innocuous building that was home to several shops but had a large warehouse in the rear that they all shared. His agents in the area had informed him that a group of criminals operating out of it was connected to a cult in the United States. One he had taken pains to insert some of his best people into. It had not been easy. This “Liberty” ran a very tight ship. He had managed it, though, and was now waiting for fresh information from his people to deliver to his Mistress. For now, he would deal with the immediate problem and cut away at the enemy’s funding.

That was enough for him, but there was more to it. Apparently these criminals were active in the area collecting monsters that appeared in the city in order to sell them as pets on the open market. It was a bit distasteful and bound to cause unnecessary trouble for the Mistress’ wider goals. According to the Mistress, monsters were bad for business.

Beyol finished his coffee and set it down as Veloce finished her own and popped the last piece of tart into her mouth. She beamed at him and got to her feet, stretching a little and arching her back in his face before getting to her feet and brushing her hands off. He cleared his throat and looked away. It was a little embarrassing how much she did that around him. He got to his feet, and they walked past the counter where the young woman gave Veloce a look and a patient smile. Veloce grinned at her before wrapping her arms around his left arm and returning to being attached to his side.

Once again, Beyol was troubled. I have to move my wallet again.

The two of them crossed the street through the cold and walked straight into a butcher’s shop. They walked towards the side of the counter, and the owner looked up and frowned at them. "You can’t-” He was cut off by a small spark of electricity that jumped from the clingy Veloce’s finger and struck him, knocking him to the ground unconscious. She glanced up at Beyol and blew across her finger like it was a smoking gun as they stepped up to the door leading to the back. He pinched his thumb, and a violet knife appeared in his free hand. One swing and the deadbolt was cut cleanly. He reached forward and opened it.

The two of them stepped inside of the large space beyond. People were shouting and going back and forth as they worked. He frowned and looked around while Veloce skipped away to peer with a hand over her eyes like a visor. "Oho! Looks like we found the right place!” She said merrily and glanced back at him, grinning. She paused and pouted. "Wait, do we still get to go to dinner?” She asked.

He frowned at the cages with hounds in them and then glanced at her. He met her gaze, big yellow eyes pleading, and sighed. "Very well. Go have fun,” he said.

She turned on her heel and cheered while pumping her fist. "Yes!” She shouted and hopped onto the rail before shouting to the entire warehouse. Bolts of lethal electricity began dancing across her skin, jumping from her body to strike anything around her and immediately starting small fires. "Y’all gotta die, please! I have a date tonight!” 

He frowned. What is it with this woman and fruit?

His phone rang, and he turned away as all hell broke loose behind him. “Yes?”

<”Headmaster. I have a report from Rift out of the Liberty Cult.”>

Finally, something that wasn’t troubling. “Tell me everything.”