Beyond the Broken Moon - Lights from the Underworld

December 2067. Renzo and Corinne have flown to Eastern Europe to attend the Underworld Auction, where a dangerous biological specimen is rumored to be put on sale. However, the Stratosphere Angels and the Broken Moon Circus are involved in the ordeal too, turning an already dangerous situation in an absolute hell.

The sound of a hammer echoed in the grand chamber, bringing everyone’s attention to the podium. A podium that was nothing but a small shipping container, a metal crate with reinforced steel bars and a red velvet drape covering it. If anything, the contrast between the elegant fabric and the underlying crate was a motif for that place as a whole: a dismissed Soviet hangar, with shuttered windows, lost in the depths of what once was Czechoslovakia, a couple hundred kilometers far from Bratislava. Yet, said hangar was richly decorated with expensive carpets and standards, showing off symbols and logos of countless organizations. Countless as the people sitting in the hall, on foldable plastic chairs equipped with exquisite red cushions. The hammer resounded once again, smashing on a small wooden circular plate, bolted to the crate, through the velvet. The hand on the hammer was fresh of manicure, with pink varnished nails. That color complemented the owner of that hand pretty well, as it was her color. Pink hair, pink trousers, pink heart tattoo on her cheek, a pink suit worn in a disheveled way that showed her naked left shoulder. The only items that weren’t pink in her outfit had to be her violet shirt and violet shoes. That woman, giggling to herself behind the stand, observed the swarm of industrious ants staring at her, anxiously waiting for her to start the celebrations.

“The auction begins in fifteen minutes, my dear guests! Please, don’t leave your seat and don’t move too close to the goods, or there will be… consequences.”

Her tone was willingly sensual, sugary to a diabetic level, almost as if she was acting in a low budget adult movie. Yet, for those who knew Claudia Amarene, the information broker of the underworld, that wasn’t a surprise at all. A lecherous snake that had an unsettling double standard when selling her high quality coveted intel. It cost money, of course, lots of money, as everyone expected, unless the buyer were an attractive young woman. In that case, the broker asked for something else – a more carnal and intimate form of payment… or so the rumors implied.

Renzo glanced at her from behind his featureless mask, from the slits carved into its black surface. The way that woman moved was remarkable, every minuscule gesture weighed to show as much skin as possible, without ever bordering on the obscene. He felt his stomach churning, clenched his hand around it, as he controlled his bowels, his compulsion to retch. An elbow striking his ribs, from his right side. He gritted his teeth, swallowed the insults, turned around.

“What the heck? What did I do?”

“Don’t stare at that bitch, or I’ll cut your balls and eat them whole.”

Renzo rolled his eyes. That voice, a voice drenched in subtle anger, belonged to a neko with long blond hair, only two years older than his girlfriend. Of course, where there was a fire, there was a Gattonero. In that specific case, Corinne. She was wearing a featureless white mask too, but her cat ears and tail betrayed her nature in a way that was hard to conceal. That last minute disguise wasn’t meant for people like her. Not that they had many alternatives, though. Renzo shook his head, shrugged.

“I find her creepy.”

“She totally is! Last time that sucker sold intel to dad, she requested to have her way with Bea, Claire and I at the same time as a payment!”

“…and what did he do?”

“He kicked her ass out of the office, while holding her at gunpoint and calling her fottuta puttana on repeat. Nyaver seen him so angry… oh, huh, no, wait. I have seen him angrier. It was when…”

“Let me guess: when he found out he’d become a grandpa.”

“Yuuuup.”

“Figures.”

Renzo’s attention was stolen by Corinne’s tail, wiggling up and down. That could only mean she was nervous. Her nyaver was a dead giveaway too – her nyas were few and far between, coming up only when she wasn’t at ease. That was understandable, however. They were sitting in a hangar forgotten by man, surrounded by what could have been criminals and mafioso coming from every corner of the known world, with no way of contacting Reno for help, not even in case of need. The auction house was a legit faraday cage, stopping every and all electromagnetic signals in both directions. And, of course, there were armed guards. Everywhere. He let out a long sigh, took out his phone from his pocket. Of course, no signal. Yet, that wasn’t the reason he pulled it out. The ulterior motive was simply, childish maybe. His lock screen picture, a photo he had taken himself. A young blond neko girl, smiling at the camera, hugging two minuscule toddlers, their short tails protruding from their backs, their small cat ears bent down in their sleep. His heart beat faster at that sight, warmth spreading through his whole body, his eyes getting wet behind the mask. He pushed the phone back into his pocket, took a deep breath. Before he felt the pressure. A finger. Pushing his forehead. Corinne’s finger.

“I still don’t get it, you know? Why are you here? Are you speedrunning the worst absentee father any% category? ‘Cause you might as well be doing that. Or, wait, is Claire mad at you? Tell me, please! I love some good drama!”

“You also love swallowing Alexiel’s Schwanzstucker, ain’t it?”

Corinne fell into an awkward silence, wagging her tail even faster, her fingernails burying deep into her pants. Her voice sharpened, almost cut the air around them, slashed without hesitation.

“At least, we use both condoms and pills.”

Renzo couldn’t appreciate Corinne’s scornful gaze from behind the mask, but he was sure she was fumigating. He cracked a satisfied smile, knowing full well that she wasn’t in a condition to notice it. A low growl escaped her lips, turning her words into an even rougher blade, a weapon looking for first blood.

“Her cock is bigger than yours too, so deal with it.”

“Sure, sure.”

He shrugged, let her rant enter his right ear and exit from the left. A literal dick measuring contest with his band’s guitarist wasn’t among his priorities anyway, though he had to admit that Alexiel was intimidating, when she wanted to. Once, Renzo made the mistake of stepping into a “joint performance” of the two members of his band, catching Corinne in the act of – let’s say – savoring Alexiel’s forbidden fruit-slash-snake. That interruption ended with Alexiel giving him such a homicidal gaze that Renzo questioned his own safety. A cold shiver down his back. That intersex gal wasn’t someone he wanted to have on his bad side, not after she survived what she survived.

Renzo turned his attention back to the current moment, focusing on the makeshift podium instead, on the figures standing close to Claudia Amarene, on the dismissed Tupolev Tu-144 still occupying part of the hangar’s space. The rusted beak of the Concorde-lookalike derelict offered a peculiar backdrop to the event, bathed in the powerful artificial lights, the sun placebo that made the stage visible despite the shuttered windows. The windshield was cracked, one of the wings torn and shattered. Several metal sheets were missing, baring the skeleton of beams and panels sustaining the artificial creature, a once proud sky-dweller that shattered the sound barrier. Renzo’s eyes moved again to the center of attention, the two silhouettes waiting near the auctioneer. One was massive, wearing an oddly shaped mask that looked somewhat like Gaetano’s head, complete with a fin. The other was minute, wrapped in a red, tattered cape, with what looked like animal ears peaking from it. They both wore a logo too, on their black garments –a golden circle with a red wolf in the center. The circle resembled a moon, which felt thematically appropriate, but also caused a shiver to run down Renzo’s spine. A shiver connected to the reason why he was there, in the first place, instead of tending to his two newborn cubs. A tap on his shoulder, Corinne’s index finger pointing at the other side of the hall.

“Duh, speaking of cocks… ain’t that the chick that almost cut off your junk ‘cause we played a Honhwan Star Duo song?”

Renzo focused on that faraway point, his eyes adjusting to the distance. Until they met her. Jet black, slick, neck-length air. Fair skin complexion. A sort of black Venetian mask with red lenses covering her eyes – a striking exception, since no other guest in the hangar was showing as much of their face as her. Despite the fact that she wore a dark dress, instead of her usual leather outfit, there was no doubt: that woman was none other Yu Vampyr – Stratosphere’s Fifth Angel. And, apparently, she wasn’t alone. At her right sat another woman, this time wrapped in an elegant grey tuxedo. Black hair too, arranged more like a bowler cut, pale skin, her features hidden by a mask similar to the one Corinne was donning. Renzo squinted his eyes, trying to connect the dots. There was a high chance that woman was an Angel too, but which one? Her skin tone immediately excluded Nivandra Rajaam and Nadia Nagase. Her hair was too short to be that of Miho Teruchigawa. That left only the twins – Ghost and Lemur – whose general appearance matched what he was seeing. Of course, there was always a chance that the person in question wasn’t an Angel to begin with, but, if the rumors were to be believed, Yu Vampyr was “under active surveillance” after a nondescript blunder. Who could keep an Angel in check, except another Angel? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

Renzo diverted his attention from the Stratosphere duo, glanced at the podium again, at the two cloaked figures standing close to Claudia. At the draped box they were shielding from the crowd. If the shorter of the two was whom he thought she was, that meant having to deal with a former Angel too. He cursed under his breath. He should have been happy to have spotted her so fast, since she was the whole reason why they even travelled to that place, but the mere fact that she was alive was a source for discomfort. Danger seemed to follow him and his loved ones, whenever he went. All because of that bout in Tokyo. All because of that. He let himself slump on his chair, groaned. Not the best way to start the evening.

**

“That one was looking at us.”

“Whatevs. Everyone here’s totes looking at me. One more, one less makes, like, no diff.”

Yu smirked, as her retort landed. Those ugly idiots surrounding her all wore senseless, featureless masks. It was tradition, at the Underworld Auction, to grant an additional layer of anonymity to the buyers. But, no, she didn’t need it. Yu Vampyr didn’t need to work in the shadows. Whatever deed she did, it was to be broadcast to the whole world – so that Seu, her beloved Seu, could see it. And, if Seu saw that, she had to look flashy. So, flashy it was. Black satin dress, high heels, black lace, all wrapped up by her signature mask. That made her pop up, especially compared with her plain companion, that Lemur brat wearing boring, mouse-grey business attire and an even more boring white mask.

“…if you say so.”

When Mr. Magnificent Manchild received an invitation to the Auction, he could have made the sensible choice and join himself – yet, he decided instead to send in two Angels and put a third on stand-by. True, they had home advantage, since Prague was less than five hundred kilometers away, but it still felt like an overkill. All for one stupid mystery box too, of all things. Yu poked her finger on Lemur’s shoulder, let out a vengeful smirk.

“How’s your little sis’ doin’, by-the-waysies? Still horny for wolf coochie?”

“People can care for other people without wanting to bed them – you know this, right?”

“Care my ass! Who’d care about that fleabag? Nah, she’s totes a zoophile or a furry!”

Lemur clenched her fist, kept her emotions in check, refrained herself from punching that annoying brat to the ground. If Ghost had that kind of thoughts about Lucia, it wouldn’t have eluded their synchronicity. Her sister and her were two parts of a whole, they were open books to each other. If Ghost fawned over Lucia, that would have been impossible to hide. Becky felt something for the runaway Angel, though: she really, really liked her as a friend. Admired her. Missed her. Was thankful to her for that medicine she got, a medicine she felt guilty for hiding from Lemur, which led her to spill the beans. If anything, Lucia and Rebecca were the closest thing to real friends she had ever seen among the Angels. There was nothing sexual between them, absolutely nothing. Yet, someone like Yu couldn’t understand it. Someone who lusted after her own flesh and blood…

Disgusting.

Lemur shook her head, gritted her teeth. Becky. Becky’s sake was the only reason why she hadn’t killed Yu with her own hands. Yet, Becky was also the reason why she was there, at that Auction, keeping Yu under control. The leash that bound her to Greschnik, that kept that maverick under strict surveillance. Still, something didn’t add up. After Lucia left, a new Seventh Angel had taken her place pretty soon, but they’d never met her. Only del Toro and one of the Renkas (maybe number 3?) were allowed to work with the newbie. Apparently, Greschnik wanted to keep her as a trump card, a secret weapon shrouded in mystery, a secret even to her (?) fellow Angels. That made Lemur feel uneasy – a hidden variable that could make their thin mutual trust crumble.

A voice from the podium, the same sensual tone as before.

“The moment you’ve been all waiting for is coming… and so am I.”

A chuckle. Claudia licked the back of her hand, much like a cat, under the gaze of more than two hundred strangers.

“For this special auction, we’ll only have one item on sale, but you know it already, n’est-ce pas?”

Her fingers moved on the draped box, caressed it delicately.

“A one of a kind gift, retrieved by the Broken Moon Circus, whose representatives are here with us today.”

Broken Moon Circus. That name startled Lemur. That wasn’t written on the invitation, but if that was the case, the small caped figure on the stage had to be…

“Gal, how’s they called? Like, Broken Moon Circus? Really? That’s totes lame.”

Yu’s remark didn’t faze Lemur in the slightest. If anything, it made her glad that she was wearing a mask, hiding her true expression from that wretched dog who tortured her sister.

“Shut up and watch. You know why we’re here.”

To keep tabs on whoever buys the item and identify their affiliation, if said item proves valuable to Stratosphere or connected with the Angel project.

Claudia snapped her fingers, let her hand close around the drapes, pulled them up and down a couple times, before smiling at the crowd.

“It’s time for a little striptease, innit? Here, I’ll let you have a look at the body you so much covet.”

One quick gesture, the fabric following her palm, ripped from the box. A metallic case shone under the lamps, reflected light all around. Vertical bars, arranged in a regular pattern, rusted and rugged, interspersed with dirty glass plates. And, inside the cage, what looked like a foul, oversized, deformed rafflesia flower. The stalk was at least one and a half meters tall, the petals looked as if made of flesh, the colors were muted, cadaveric. A stench of rotten meat filled the hangar, forcing even Claudia to pinch her nose in disgust. Yet, despite that aura of death, the flower was unmistakably alive.

Twitching.

As if it had a heartbeat.

Silence fell in the hall, all eyes on the cage. The pictures of the Blossoming, not even two months before, spread like wildfire through the minds in the audience. That plant, that eldritch abomination… was once a human being. Whispers, words, murmurs, half sentences, buzzing, shouts, screams. The hangar came to life, as the nature of the concealed lot was revealed. The heritage of Rosenmaester. His last masterpiece. A lethal bioweapon defused by the wit of a lone Irish detective and her team.

Lemur’s eyes widened under her mask, her breathing accelerated. That plant… Stratosphere lost seven people to the Blossoming, all around the world. The flowers that emerged from their bodies were burned down immediately. Those that weren’t noticed withered in the span of one hour, before melting into an organic puddle of sorts. Yet, that one met a different fate, was now standing tall, in front of all of them, ready to be bought by the highest bidder.

Against all the odds.

A chuckle overpowered the noise, amplified by the microphone. Claudia clapped her hands once, twice, focused the attention on her.

“Oh, such a warm reception! I’m glad you are all excited for what’s to come!”

Her index finger caressed the glass, moved to the bars, stroked them.

“You watched the broadcast, yes? Where Veckert-chan told everyone not to worry? That was so cheesy, wasn’t it? But, you see, she administered an antidote to aaall of us, saving our lives. If she didn’t, the world would have become a nice, colorful garden of bloodstained flowers. She was so amazing, innit? This flower isn’t dangerous anymore. Of course, you could ask yourself what do I do with a defused weapon?… and that would be a veeeery fine question.”

She joined her hands, forming a triangle with them.

“…but, you see, the answer is simple. This flower is not the end. This flower is the beginning. Imagine. What could your scientists develop, if they could study Rosenmaester’s last magnum opus?”

Words erupted, noise levels raising, voices echoing on the sheet metal. Claudia’s lips contracted into a smile, she lifted her arm, struck a pose.

“The minimum bid for this unique item is five hundred thousand euro. And the bidding starts…”

A snap of her fingers, a holographic countdown popping up mid-air. Twenty, followed by two zeros.

“…now!”

Nineteen fifty-nine.

The auction had began.

**

“Darn it to hell.”

Renzo avoided a stamp thrown at the wall, bending his head at the last possible second. That was definitely a way to start a discussion with his employer, the father of his partner and, begrudgingly, the grandfather of his children. Said grumpy cat grandpa was sulking over his desk, twirling and churning piles of printed documents, tapping on one or two holokeyboards at once while smoking a joint. Renzo’s nostrils were attacked by the acrid smell of burnt catnip, as Reno Gattonero waved his tired hand at the newcomer.

“Sit down, Renzo.”

“What’s this all about?”

A puff of smoke, a sigh of resignation.

“Taxes. My advisor was arrested last week, while trying to flee to Lichtenstein… and, guess what? I can’t find a new one in Euterpe, they are all overworked to death, they say! I’ve called twenty-two of them, no joke, and nobody – nobody had room for even just one more client. That’s racism, that’s what it is!”

Renzo nodded, while trying to suppress an automatic grin. Gattonero was the last client a tax specialist would have liked to have. Too many skeletons in the fiscal closet, too many child support requests skirted with the agility of a juggler, who knows how many thousand euros of potential liabilities. Somehow, Renzo could understand why hearing his surname was a powerful turn-off for them. Yet, he couldn’t voice his thoughts, lest his already precarious relationship with Claire’s father could turn even more sour. The eyebagged neko squared him from his face down, then up again, wiggling his tail up and down.

“You were at the hospital, I take it.”

“I’ve been there till now, yes. Wanna see a pic?”

Gattonero’s ears twitched, his paperwork left behind, as he took yet another puff. Renzo pushed a couple buttons on his phone, letting a picture take center stage. A blond female neko, smiling at the camera, holding her two newborns in her arms – both of them sporting minuscule cat ears and tails. Gattonero closed his eyes, patted Renzo’s shoulder.

“Well, congratulations, I… guess. They look kinda cute, must be their mother’s side.”

Renzo felt a hitch in the neko’s voice, something that might have been mistaken for warmth. He reciprocated the patting, meeting the stiffness of Gattonero’s chiseled muscles.

“Claire told me you’ve been with her the whole day, yesterday. Color me impressed”

“…I’ve been less than a stellar father, but come on – it’s my baby girl having her first babies. What parent wouldn’t be happy for her?”

The same parent who seriously considered castrating me after he found out Claire was pregnant, only to be reminded by all three of his known daughters that all of them were born from unprotected one-night stands. Renzo’s mind answered the question, though his mouth remained closed shut, refusing to vocalize the conclusion.

Gattonero sat down at his desk again, with a concealed spark in his dull eyes. Renzo took a chair, sat right in front of him.

“So, what’s the matter? You haven’t called me here for taxes.”

“Of course not. Ever heard of the Underworld Auction?”

A tap on the keyboard, the forms replaced with several pictures, faded, in low-resolution.

“Well, if you haven't, here's the deal: it’s an irregular, itinerant event that features whatever the hottest stuff on the black market is. Usually, with a side dish of mafia families, secret organizations and assorted state actors from all the known world.”

Renzo eyed the pictures, trying to discern any details out of them – unsuccessfully.

“Sounds dangerous.”

“It is, very much so. I wouldn’t get involved with that. At least, not in normal circumstances.”

Gattonero’s fingers waltzed on the keyboard, pushed several buttons in a sequence.

“…but an acquaintance of mine, someone who’s deeper into the underworld than me, told me something funny: there’s just one seller this time around, someone responding to the name of Broken Moon Circus.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell.”

Gattonero grumbled, hit another button, changing the subject of the picture.

“Does this ring a bell?”

Renzo’s heart sank.

Wolf ears. Red cape. Golden irises on black sclerae. Fur on arms and legs. Emerging unscathed from an explosion. There was no doubt. The figure portrayed in that frame was none other than Lucia Lunarossa.

Stratosphere’s former Seventh Angel.

Someone who had a beef with him.

Someone that could kill all of his loved ones on a whim.

And had a goddamn good reason to.

**

“Six hundred thousand euro.”

Nineteen fifty-six. Not even five seconds to the first offer. The bidder was a somewhat overweight man, of course donning a mask. Lucia observed the situation from the stage, gazed at the hall, looking at the faces. Her sight enabled her to discern the smallest details, no matter the distance these people were sitting at, no matter the dazzling lights and the ominous, bass-driven music booming from the speakers, echoing among the metal walls. Her pupils were adapting at a breakneck pace, as the darkness of the place was pierced by beams of lights, pointing at whomever placed the last bid. The loud banging sounds made her uneasy, her ears twitching at irregular intervals, making her glad she had worn plugs to protect them. That was the blessing and the curse of her sharper senses – she could perceive everything and perceive it well, but oversensitivity had its painful drawbacks. Her attention moved again to the assembled audience, that carnival of masks blankly staring at the stage under the ever changing lights. Many of those people had to be undercover cops or members of the military. The auction didn’t make distinctions, everyone who knew where it was held was automatically admitted, provided they wore a mask concealing their identities. Infiltrating it was shockingly simple, something that left both Blade and her confused. In hindsight, it made a modicum of sense: running an event of that size in complete secrecy required too many mouths being kept shut. A leak wasn’t a question of if, but of when. Thus, the auction was staged and organized around that premise – it’s secret until it isn’t, so wear masks to protect your identity unless you want it to be known… much like Claudia Amarene did. She was pretty notorious as the information broker of the underworld, so she would have been recognizable anyway. Lucia would have applauded at her bravado, if she didn’t hate her to the guts. Of course, said bravado was somehow granted by the massive security measures. No cameras, no phones, no weapons, full body inspection and the whole array of signal jammers, in addition to the Faraday cage. Last but not least, the small regiment of fully armed guards outside was enough to fend off a police platoon while the organizers and customers fled to safety, so it wasn’t a cause of concern – on paper.

She squinted her eyes, localized the emergency exits, a couple windows that were shuttered but not bolted, as the first reconnaissance report duly noted. Blade’s intel had been first class and he handled the auction thing-y wonderfully. Lucia felt a sense of wonder every time she watched him type on that old-fashioned PC of his, moving between displays and churning out useful information as if it was second nature. Truly a sight to behold. Finding the path to the Underworld Auction wasn’t everyday business, but he discovered a channel in record time. He started by listing the pictures of the Blossom on what looked like an ordinary, albeit inactive, Internet forum from the ‘20s. Which, of course, was just a front and the one way to get the attention of whoever ran the show. It didn’t take long for that year’s organizer, Claudia Amarene, to get in touch with them – and to make Lucia an indecent proposal. That’s where her hybrid nature came to her rescue, gently convincing that unpleasant beast to back down, before leaving the negotiations to her great golden second-in-command.

Now, they were both there, on the same stage as that smug snake, wearing black robes and masks enriched with golden decorations, while foreign agents, private companies and mafiosos were fighting to the last euro to seize that prized, one-of-a-kind plant.

“Six hundred fifty!”

“Six hundred eighty!”

Every new offer made her heart pump faster, her adrenaline levels rising. That was exciting. Half that much money meant that their Broken Moon Circus could finally get a land base in Hong Kong, one with a stable connection to basic services, instead of moving from port to port on a broken down fishing vessel. Satellite Internet had already been a major improvement and a welcome boon. Contacting Becky had never been easier than in the past few weeks, after they snatched a relay from a Dutch cargo ship. Most unexpected pre-Christmas gift ever, but that made their life more comfortable, finally being able to access the World Wide Web from everywhere instead of lurking into bankrupt erotic holo cafes that didn’t secure their Wi-Fi password. Against all the odds, that was still a booming business in countries of South East Asia, yet she had no reasons to complain: thanks to said business, they could somehow access the net – somehow being the keyword. And that somehow had been good enough to contact Claudia.

“Seven hundred!”

Lucia turned towards Blade, glanced at his mask. He had to be grinning, under that disguise. She tapped on his shoulder, tiptoed to reach his ear, whispered.

“It’s going well, isn’t it?”

“On par with our expectations, boss, but…”

Blade nodded in the direction of the audience, of the huge access gate, now shuttered close except for a small, sheet-metal door. Movement around it, soldiers in full tactical gear waving their hands, pointing at something. Lucia smirked under the mask, a smirk Blade could only imagine through the subtle change in her shining eyes.

“Oh, you noticed that too?”

A hint of amusement, one that didn’t get lost on him. He nodded again, this time at his boss.

“Yes. There’s something serious going on there.”

**

“Seven hundred fifty!”

“Seventy! Seven hundred seventy!”

Corinne was enthralled by the sight of the hands moving up and down, shouting bigger and bigger numbers, as the voices mingled, fought tooth and nail to emerge from the chaos. A melting pot of screams, trampling each other until just one pierced the competition, taking shape and boasting an even bigger number to the world.

“Seven hundred eighty!”

Some were standing up, their composure forgotten, a feral competition with no rules except shouting louder.

“Eight hundred! Eight hundred!”

In a way, it looked more like a mosh pit than an auction – music and dazzling lights, the same animal instincts at work. Her tail kept moving up and down rhythmically, her ears twitching. She couldn’t avert her gaze from that show, that spectacle of basic human nature, a rave party of men clad in tuxedos racing to the highest offer.

Until she felt it.

“Corinne? Corinne?”

Renzo’s hand was resting on her shoulder, his fingers tapping on it.

“The guards are on the move.”

Corinne emerged from her state of stupor, gazed back at him behind her featureless mask.

“Okay, and?”

“They seem uneasy. Going in and out to relay comms. I don’t like it.”

Corinne turned around, her eyes focusing on the backside of the hangar, on the armed personnel swarming like little ants around the main entrance. Loud music was masking the noises, the flashing lights making it hard to follow their movements. That had to be by design, to shield the bidders from the outside world, from the gun fire and commotion that sometimes defiled the sacredness of the event. She shrugged, shook her head.

“Maybe they’re waiting for something or there’s a simple communication problem. Sucks to be them.”

That was when Renzo stood up, grabbing her wrist.

“Let’s act as rehearsed, okay?”

Corinne shook her head again, stood up too, covered by a curtain of tuxedoed people angrily shouting higher and higher figures at the stage. She raised her hand, started pulling her fingers up and down.

“…fine, fine, Mr. Conspiracy Theory. But know you owe me and Alexiel a dinner, after all this is over, yes? Three star restaurant, on your tab, full course, plus a love hotel room for me and her, while you drag your sorry ass home to your kittens, okay?”

Renzo rested his forehead on his hand, grumbling something under his breath. Swear words eaten by the basses, the orchestral hits, devouring every other sounds in the hanger. All except the loud voices of the bidders, struggling to get noticed, to capture the attention of the cruel depraved angel that led the show. Renzo patted Corinne’s hair, letting out a quiet sigh.

“…ever the greedy gal, huh?”

Corinne giggled, wagged her tail, rubbed her cheek on Renzo’s mask.

“Never do anything for free, not even for your sister’s hubby! Best thing dad ever taught me!”

“…if that’s the best, what even is the worst?”

She rubbed herself on him again, an impish smile hidden from sight, as she whispered in her companion’s ear.

“You really don’t wanna know, Ren.”

**

“Nine hundred! Nine hundred thousand!”

“One million!”

“One million and two hundred!”

As the clock ticked down, Claudia gazed at the crowd with a perverted joy. The cut of the auction director was thirty percent of the selling price, which meant that she was going to cash in a fat check, no matter who won the bidding war. She had hoped Lucia would consider paying her due in the biblical way, but – alas! – that hungry wolf didn’t seem too hot on having some bedroom action with her. However, the mere fact that Lucia Lunarossa was alive and well was first rate intel for Claudia’s beloved President-chan. The fact the former Seventh Angel could survive without death suppressant was already a miracle, but Claudia would have never expected to see said former Angel leading a small criminal enterprise too. That alone was proof that Lucia’s connections ran deeper than it was immediately apparent. Rumor had it that she had a preferential link with the upper echelons of the Fishface Syndicate, which might or might not have been the reason why Blade Aural was following her like a puppy. How someone like that half-wolf freak could do that was a mystery – a mystery begging for a solution, an explanation.

“Fourteen thousand!”

“One million five hundred!”

But that wasn’t an immediate problem. With her channels, Claudia could close the gap in relative tranquillity, given enough time. Now, the auction was all she needed to care about.

“One six! One six!”

“One million seven!”

The timer went down. The number went up. She licked her lips. That was the perfect combination, a spectacle that aroused her joy. The small fries dropped out already, leaving only maybe ten, fifteen bidders still touching up their already absurd offers. She wondered how many of them would still fight on the flower in the next three minutes, how many would drop defeated and how many would ask for more time. The begging part was especially delicious. Denying their requests was absolute bliss.

“One million nine hundred fifty!”

“Two mill…”

An explosion. A deafening noise. The music stops. The lights flicker, die out. Dust, a cloud of dust and metal shrapnel, close to where a door was. The body of a guard bouncing on the floor, after piercing through the sheet metal, thrown away like a rag doll. Silence falls. The bids die in the throats of the audience, as all heads turn. First, the one at the end of the hall. Then the others, one by one, row by row.

Just in time to see another body fly, land on the concrete, a helmet shattered by the impact. Claudia blinks, stares at the entrance, at the breach, the door thrashed opened.

Blue sparks in the dark, blue sparks surrounding a dark silhouette. A man. Taller than average, slim, his hands tucked inside his pockets. Leather jacket. Golden studs shaped as the number one. Neck-length brown hair. And a manic grin plastered on his face.

“Good grief, pals…”

An echoing voice, doubled. Echoes and reverbs, as if two people talked at the same time, just with a slight, unnerving delay.

“…has your daddy never told you to stop playing with flowers?”

The voice turned into a roar.

And the shape of a lion enveloped him, in a triumph of lightning.

Two armed guards hurried to the breach, their rifles trained on the intruder, on the shimmering form lighting up in the shadows. Four more guards joined their ranks, full tactical armor, even more rifles loaded. Their fingers on the trigger, the laser scopes marking the spots.

Not for long.

Their world turned upside down, in the blink of an eye. Electric blue slashes, the paws of a beast that exists and doesn’t exist at the same time, the guard flying a second later, thrown away like broken toys all in different directions. Those lucky enough to be hit first. Those who didn’t found themselves overwhelmed, incapable of retaliating. Their arms broken, their legs shattered by a single swipe. Before being launched too, thrown like a hammer. Landing in front of the audience, of the masked people gathered in silence, in fear.

Watching as the lion advanced, smashing helmets against the floor, bashing armed professionals without even taking his hands out of his pockets.

That man, that lion.

Was coming for them.

**

Lucia didn’t see the intruder, didn’t register the incursion. She was already on her way out, dragging Blade behind her. One split second before the explosive entrance of that unwelcome guest, her reflexes, her instincts gave her a way out, a path to safety. The mask torn, the black garments too – back to a more practical outfit, red ripped cape notwithstanding. Running among the screams, the cries, as more and more police officers poured in. Running to the emergency exit they had identified before the auction began. She yelled at Blade, her eyes shining in the now complete darkness.

“Anyone behind us?”

A voice from behind her, engulfed by the jarring noise of heads bashed against metal.

“…nobody. We are safe for now!”

Her rhythm intensified, till she got a clear look at the green emergency light, the beacon they placed right before taking center stage. She gritted her teeth. Such a good chance to expand… gone the way of the dodo. The plant was lost, no money gained, a fully equipped safe house prepared for nothing. All because, somehow, the cops found the auction. But how? Who snitched? And why? Cops and spies had always been part of the underworld auction, bystanders to the show of illegal goods moving through borders, changing hands. What triggered them to go on the offensive like that? That was simply annoying.

Gun fire, swear words, blue bolts of lightning. Whatever was happening back there, obscured by the massive frame of the damaged Tupolev, wasn’t an ordinary police raid. Blade’s voice boomed from behind, overcoming the confusion.

“Once we’re out of the door, we just need to…”

“Wait.”

Lucia stopped, her clawed toes scratching the floor, braking her momentum. Her eyes focused on the exit, on the shadows surrounding it. A whisper, chewed to a soup of words, a whisper Blade could barely understand.

“…someone’s already there.”

He looked up, as his eyes got accustomed to the darkness embracing them, to the lack of lights aside from the weak, green halo illuminating their goal. And he saw them. Two figures, not imposing but not small either, their arms crossed, their masks off. One had cat ears, a tail too. The other…

“Bloody moonfish, that can’t be…”

He instinctively went for his gun, before remembering that no, he had none, thanks to the auction rules. He squinted his eyes, trying to ascertain his doubts. That had to be a mistake due to the low visibility. There was no way the finless in front of him was in fact…

Lucia’s voice startled him, broke his chain of thoughts.

“…look who’s back. Hi, fuckboy, what’s with your new catpanion? Did you get tired of your old kitty and got a new one, after knocking her up?”

A chuckle from the shadows.

“I see you got yourself a shark toyboy. I know you were a furry, but fish? Color me surprised, Ms. Lunarossa.”

That voice. That voice checked out. He couldn’t be anyone else than him. D.’s former boyfriend, that larva of a man that was pushed around like a pet, kept on a leash in skimpy leather outfits with cat ears and dragged to boys-love conventions. A subhuman thing that didn’t have a right to be called as such, and yet managed to steal D. from him. A weakling Blade resented with all of his heart, regretting the day he decided not to pull the trigger.

That man.

Renzo.

Rubecca.

Was now standing in front of him, with a shite-eating grin and a self-confidence that felt unwarranted. Especially, while facing Lucia “I’ll rip your lungs off and eat them” Lunarossa.

The gun fire intensified, search lights piercing the pitch-black shadows behind the downed airplane. Lucia sneered, pointed her claw at Renzo.

“I’ll be quick: you move or you die. Choose one.”

“If you kill me, good luck removing my body and getting through the door before EiN catches you. I’ve heard he’s pretty savage.”

Blade’s blood froze at that name, he turned around to look back, to focus on the noise. EiN. Lorenz Kristhhoffer. So, those blue sparks…

Lucia growled, her canines glimmering in the low lights.

“Figlio di puttana.”

Blade looked at her in confusion, trying to grasp words he wasn’t very familiar with, despite his forced stay on the Mattanza. Words that sounded like a heavy-handed insult, even if he wasn’t completely sure about it. Yet, before he could connect the dots, Lucia started talking again, moving back to English for his sake.

“Okay, fuckboy, what do you want from me? Say it now, or I’ll kill you anyway.”

Something shining in the low green glow, among Renzo’s fingers.

“This data drive contains everything I’ve gathered on Greschnik, the Angel Project… and Project Lilith.”

He threw it at Lucia, waited for her to grab it. She looked down at the small stick, at its polished metallic case. Renzo went on, as the noises became louder, as the first cops started trampling the Tupolev.

“Take it. Do what you want with it. Use it for whatever purpose. On one condition…”

He raised his voice, overcoming the chaos, dominating it.

“…don’t lay a hand on me, my family or my friends, ever again. Forget I’ve ever existed. Leave me, Claire, and my kids out of your machinations.”

Lucia stared at the drive, then at Renzo, then at the drive again. Her ears twitched, her eyelids closed.

“There’s nothing I’d like more than killing you and that cat-eared bitch, but you know what? Fine, I’ll play your game.”

Her irises shone, her annoyance seeping through her teeth.

“You have my word, fuckboy. As long as you don’t get in my way again, it’s as if we’ve never met.”

Renzo nodded, moved to the side, opened the emergency door. Lucia didn’t even look in his direction. She simply grabbed Blade’s sleeve, before dragging him through the exit.

Before closing it again, behind them, leaving Renzo and Corinne alone in the dark.

Right as an entire regiment of police closed in on them.

Led by a guy surrounded by a lion-shaped aura.

**

Concrete all around. Low lights, sickly white. Some flickering. Visibility reduced, the darkness engulfing everything. Safe. In the shadows. Far from the commotion. Lemur stopped to catch her breath, coughed. Detective Kristhhoffer. A Resonant. One even an Angel would have trouble dealing with. She whimpered, cleaned her mouth, let her lungs, her muscles rest, out of the danger zone. That raid was unexpected, there was no way the ROPES team found out about the flower. Nobody knew what the lot sold at the auction would be, except the seller – and nobody who saw the flower could communicate it to the outside world. Besides, even with all the advance warning in the world, Yard couldn’t dispatch a team in such a short time to a foreign country. She bent forward, her breathing still intense. The more she thought about it, the less that sequence of events made sense. Yet, she knew what to do, as per indications. She tapped on her earlobe, on the concealed tracker. Two taps to connect, one more tap to transmit, then Morse code. Dot and dashes, spaced and grouped, to call in for support. All while Yu was simply staring, with a malicious grin.

“That was totes horrible, gal. Running on heels ain’t my forte. That was, like, an unadulterated disaster.”

“Shut up.”

Dots, dashes. Dots, dashes. A pause. Then, she heard it. Dots and dashes too, in another arrangement.

Just one word:

Acknowledged.

She let out a long sigh, as she let herself catch a little respite. They were away, far away from the hangar – in a Stratosphere safe house prepared just for them. Blue lights in the distance, peeking from slits in the shuttered windows, sirens blaring. No more gun fire, though. The action had been quick, brutal. No resistance. She bit her lips, pressed her palm against her mouth. That one man alone could make her shiver, of all people…

“Yo, Lems, I was thinkin’… how’d ya know we had to, like, walk away like that? You grabbed me at the speed of light, when lion boy showed up.”

Yu’s grating voice made her skin crawl. The last thing she wanted to listen to.

“Jesus, Yu! You wanted me to face EiN?”

“Chillax, Lems! We’re Angels! We totes could beat him to a pulp!”

“Someone here hasn’t read the files, I take it.”

“Oh, I totes skim through them, Lems. They be boring AF, no siscon spicy stories there.”

Lemur felt like puking at that remark, stopped the retching midway. She didn’t know what siscon meant, until Nivandra – of all people – duly informed her of the existence of that genre of erotic stories centered around incest, of all things. Knowing Yu, that wasn’t even an innocent remark. Lemur rolled her eyes, forcing herself not to think about that, mentally blessing the fact that Rebecca was too far away to feel her disgust and be influenced by their mutual synchronicity. She glanced at Yu again, squinted her eyes at her with contempt.

“If you read them, you’d know EiN is classified as run away first, ask questions later.”

“And you were so fast at runnin’! He didn’t even break through the wall and you were already sprinting, gal! Almost as if… you knew he was coming.”

“Come again?”

Lemur turned around, glanced at Yu, at her masked face, her ruby lenses. Only to see her put a hand under her long dress, slowly untie her panties, rip them off with one swift gesture. Only for the fabric to become rigid, solid. What was originally white underwear, was now a shining knife, at least twenty centimeters long. Yu licked its tip, her tongue moving up and down the blade.

“Those idiots totes thought I was unarmed. They didn’t know, like, about polymorphic metal, did they?”

Her left hand under her dress too, grabbed her bra, ripped it off in an instant. Turning it into an even longer, wider machete in a matter of seconds. She kissed it too, let it grind against the knife, once, twice, as a grin adorned her face. Her body was still shielded by the black satin dress, every movement causing it to move around, almost unveiling what should have not been shown. Her mask was shining in the low light of the warehouse. The ruby lenses too. Red as blood.

Lemur stepped backwards, without breaking eye contact.

“Y… Yu, this isn’t time for jokes! We must report back to His Holiness that…”

“…that you betrayed us, bitch?”

Lemur’s heart sunk, her pupils dilated.

“What?”

“Like, it’s totes clear, Lems. You sold us to save your wolf-coochie-hunting dirty sis, yes? You’re the reason Yard found the Auction, I’m totes sure of it. Bravo, Lems, bravo! But, like, you could have been less obvious.”

Lemur raised her guard, felt her stomach churning. Her movement were clumsy. Unsteady. Imprecise. Ghost was the mano-a-mano expert, Lemur was the sniper. Capable of hitting a target ten kilometers away, of instantly calculating the effects of the wind, gravity and al that jazz, of adjusting her aim in the fraction of a second. Yet, every time she shot her Duke Leto, her arm almost broke. Superpowers without relevant secondary abilities – an annoyance that kept bugging her. What use was to be the best sniper in the world, if her body couldn’t take it? Suddenly, her overspecialization became her burden. She breathed. Once. Twice.

Deescalation. Yes, Yu was simply seeing things. Deescalation.

“This is stupid, Yu. I didn’t even know the lot was a plant! I cannot have been…”

“Stop wasting my time, Lems. I, like, got proof.”

Lemur stepped backwards again. Still a lot of space before the wall. She had scanned the area before entering, she knew she had room to maneuver. Yet, her senses were sending her mixed signals. Something wasn’t right. A shadow in the corner of her eye. She turned slightly, glanced at her left side. Nothing. Gaze back to Yu, to her knives, to her steps. Slow, steady. Still on her high heels. Lemur’s confidence came back. That was what she had to target. There was no way Yu could fight with those shoes on, if she ever considered fighting in the first place. Their outfits favored Lemur too, a comfortable tuxedo against a frilly, long dress with an opening on the thigh. Lemur raised her hand, tapped on her earlobe again. Dot. Dot. Dot. Dash. Dash. Dash. Dot. Dot. Dot. Twice, three times. And the answer came, almost immediately.

Acknowledged.

She drew a sigh of relief, focused again on Yu, without losing any more ground. Now, she just had to make Yu do the talk.

“Proof? Yu, there can’t be proof of something I didn’t do!”

“Oh, but there is. N’est-ce pas… Clads?”

Lemur gasped. A violent crack, an impact on her right elbow. She fell to the ground, her shoulder hitting the concrete. Pain. Sharp pain. A pain she wasn’t used to. She managed to get on her knees, staring up, trying to understand. Only to feel it. Her arm. Broken. She bit her lips, her teeth sinking in the flesh, her nerves burning. Until she saw a familiar figure, towering over her.

Pink hair. Pink tuxedo. Pink eyes. And a colossal sledgehammer among her slender hands. Lifted as if it weighed nothing.

A sound of clapping hands, Yu’s voice breaching the air.

“Yo, Clads, that was a totes radical strike.”

The reply came almost instantly, accompanied by an elegant curtsy.

“I’m glad you liked it, Yu-chan! I wonder whether Lemchan was expecting this, though.”

That woman was none other than Claudia Amarene. The organizer of the auction. Brandishing a heavy hammer. Breaking an arm without breaking a sweat. Lemur’s mouth fell agape. That didn’t… couldn’t make sense. She shook her head, put herself together, growled, stood up, raised her left arm, her right one hanging like a cracked pendulum. Claudia. Yu. They definitely knew each other. Claudia’s strength. Yu’s remarks. All of that could make sense only if… only if…

As her brain made the connection, her heart sunk.

“…you’re… you’re the new Seventh Angel?!”

“Oh, yes! I’ve covered the role for a loooooong time! Apostle first, and, after your sister’s little furry BFF took to the high seas, I got an unexpected promotion! One Angel down, one Angel up! Isn’t it sad, Lemchan?”

Claudia made a small pause, smiled at Lemur.

“But, you see, after that flea-infested baddie breached his trust, President-chan asked me to remain incognito, to watch the other Angels without being seen, to weed out potential traitors before they could deal even a fraction of the damage she caused.”

Claudia chuckled, kissed the head of the hammer, leaving a shade of smudged lipstick on it.

“And you were so naughty, Lemchan! Getting in cahoots with the ROPES team behind President-chan’s back? That’s a no-no-no! So, I got in touch with Yu, riiiight before the auction, filled her in with the details. Lo and behold! I was right! You were a traitor! So, Lemchan… don’t resist, pretty please? Naughty girls like you…”

Laughter echoed in the empty warehouse.

“…must be punished for their dirty, dirty deeds.”

Lemur’s brain built a new connection, a conclusion she didn’t want to reach. Claudia set her up. The only people who could alert Yard in advance were the sellers, Lucia’s Broken Moon Circus… or the auctioneer herself. A shiver ran down her spine. Claudia Amarene was the one who tipped Yard. She toyed with them from the beginning, with the goal of…

“YU!”

Lemur shouted, let out all the air she still had down in her lungs.

“Yu, she’s playing us! She’s pitting us against each other! She’s the one who tipped…”

“Lems, I totes not care. She’s right? You’re right? I dunno. But you’re the one losing. You’re the one I hate. So, Clads here must totes be the one to follow.”

Yu stepped forward, closing the distance, forcing Lemur to retreat to the wall. One arm down. One against two. Numbers were not in her favor… at least until the backup arrived. Time. Time was what she needed. Time was what she was going to get.

Yu ground her knives against each other again, smirked with all of her teeth perfectly lined up.

“Lems, Lems… you and Ghost are the reason I can’t get into the top three. But, hey, if you die here, does she die too? Would that synchrofuckcity of yours kill her? Oh, gal, I can’t wait to find out! You totes should have used it more, before kicking the bucket. If you share all feelings, all emotions… why didn’t you fuck each other? Wouldn’t have been the best? A total resonance of absolute pleasure that piles up and piles up and piles up before exploding? Why didn’t ya do it, Lems?”

“Because we’re not like you!”

All of a sudden, Yu found herself in the air, her chin bouncing back, after the kick hit. Then, she felt it, the pressure on her sternum. Lemur’s shoulder tackle, with the damaged arm, smashing against her torso, making some room between them, throwing her to the ground. Only for Claudia’s sledgehammer to fall with all its might, cracking the concrete floor. Lemur avoided the slam at the last second, a roll on her still healthy side. Then, a sprint forward, a knee to Claudia’s face. The Seventh Angel recoiled, lost ground too, fell back, still keeping her weapon in hand, albeit barely. Close to her, Yu found her footing once more, raised her knives, got ready to strike. Only to be kicked in the head, one of the lenses popping off of her mask, revealing her true eye, before she loudly fell on the floor with a solemn thud. Claudia smirked, kissed her own index finger, winked at Lemur.

“My, my! Wounded beasts are the most dangerous, aren’t they?”

She swung her weapon again in a wide arc, going for the head. Yet, Lemur was faster. Another knee strike to the sternum, making her opponent fall back, then an elbow thrust on her throat. Claudia lost her breath, let her hammer fall, brought her hands to her neck. Lemur turned on herself, spun on her back foot. Before kicking Yu, still recovering from the previous strike, with all her momentum, smashing her against the wall, cracking it, her dress covered in dust and rubble. Claudia lifted her hammer again, her eyes bloodshot, her breath heavy, her stance unsteady. Yu growled, grabbed her machete from the ground, adjusted her broken mask. They charged at the same time, from both sides, brandishing their weapons with a wide horizontal swing. Lemur saw that coming, ducked quickly, before sweeping both of them with one single low kick. Claudia stumbled, Yu fell down badly, her heels broken, her shoes ruined. She yelled, swore in Korean, rolled on the side, ripped the shoes out, remaining barefooted, before rising up, her knives steadily kept in her hands, rage mounting up inside her. Claudia stood up too, the hammer used as a makeshift hanger, her eyes betraying a mixture of contempt and annoyance.

“Lemchan, you’re making this… unnecessarily complicated. Just… accept your punishment and die already!”

Only to get kicked in the belly again, before she could even lift her weapon, bending in pain one more time. Lemur breathed. Breathed. Slowly. Breathed. Those two were amateurs. Angels, but still amateurs. A former idol singer. An information broker. No real fighting experience, never had to survive as a war orphan, never had to protect their lives. Those two weren’t attacking her, they were flailing their weapons around in the hope of hitting something. That was even more evident for Claudia. A true professional would have killed her target with one swing to the head, instead of disabling them by hitting their elbow. That’s why they were the Fifth and Seventh: because they were Angels in name only, if not for their Gifts. For all her shortcomings, Lucia was better at brawling than both of them combined. That thought calmed her, if a little. Another breath, slow, long. Even down one arm, Lemur felt a bit of confidence returning to her. There was still hope. Despite Claudia framing her, despite Yu believing her without a shred of evidence because of her jealously towards the twins, despite her broken arm and having no weapon, Lemur still had one card to play.

Acknowledged.

Backup was coming. Lemur had to endure it just a little longer. Just a little longer. Just a little…

“Alright, Lems. You’ve done it. You pissed me off.”

Yu grabbed Claudia’s shoulder, threw the woman behind herself, almost making her tumble down.

Before opening her mouth.

And shrieking.

Shrieking like a flock of bats.

As the ultrasounds mixed

with a high pitched scream

That shriek

was the last thing

Lemur ever heard.

Her ears.

Her eardrums.

Something warm pouring out of them. Something warm. Sticky.

Blood? Her blood?!

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee–

A hiss. An interminable hiss, a bell ringing in her brain.

She must have screamed, Lemur must have screamed. Yet, she couldn’t hear herself. She couldn’t hear her voice. Only see. Touch. Feel pain.

Pain.

PAIN.

Her balance lost, her eyes wide open, her healthy hand covering her ear, bathing in red.

Useless.

Useless.

Useless.

No sound.

Just ringing.

Ringing.

Ringing.

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee–

Yu’s mouth flapping. Claudia’s lips moving. But nothing comes out of them. Absolute silence. Except for the ringing. She retched. No sound. No balance. Her body losing cohesion, losing coordination. She tried standing up, fell down again. Another time. Another time again. That sound. That sound that pierced her brain. That was Yu’s Gift.

The Scream.

To think she’d experience it on her skin…

Lemur tried to speak, to say something. But nothing came back. Whatever sounds she was producing, they weren’t registered by her brain, their eardrums were gone, unable to perceive them any longer.

And the mouths kept flapping. The lips kept moving. Her eyes following them, reading them as she learned in Sarajevo. No sound, no sound at all. But she could get it. Something, at least.

Laughing.

They were laughing at her.

She tried to stand up, fought against the retching, got to her knees. Before falling back down.

Falling. Falling. Falling.

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee–

Claudia bent on her, her eyes wide open, her pupils like small dots, inebriated by her new position of power. Then, kissed her. Kissed Lemur on her chest, on her sternum, leaving a lipstick mark on it, smudging it on the white shirt. Before raising her hammer.

Lemur screamed. She must have screamed. Yet, she couldn’t hear herself. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything, as the hammer fell again, on her left leg, smashing her knee in a cacophony of pain. She couldn’t do anything as Yu’s machete pierced her chest. Just scream. And her scream echoed inside her ribcage, inside the only intact lung. Something warm on her cheeks. Tears. Of despair. Of fear.

I don’t want to die.

She thought it. She said it? No use. Her ears couldn’t get it. Just a hiss. Just a ringing.

beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee–

Claudia’s snicker. Yu’s smirk. As her blood flooded the floor, leaving her body, that was the image that occupied her sight. Their cruel smiles. Their lips flapping. Again.

Time… end… this.

With… pleasure.

They raised their weapons, hammer and knives. Their eyes glimmering in the low lights of the safe house, almost shining.

Then, blood.

Everywhere.

Splattered on the walls.

In two wide arcs.

But not hers.

Not her blood.

Theirs.

Because an Angel had descended from Heaven.

A platinum Angel with stars scarred on her forearm.

Standing between the two, her hands slashing like blades.

Nadia Nagase.

The backup she was waiting for.

**

“So, let me get this straight, Renzie.”

“Renzo.”

“Whatever.”

Renzo’s eyes locked on the brown marbles of that mountain of a man sitting in front of him, surrounded by police agents and a plethora of handcuffed people, laying down in the now completely lit hangar. Of course he had heard of EiN before, but seeing the real deal eye to eye felt like gazing the depths of a wild animal’s heart, an unnameable feral beast. Now, said beast was there, his arms and legs crossed, staring at him right into his eyes, talking with his badly accented English, harsh sounds that made it even harder to understand.

“I get it, I get it. You’re a private detective, yes? You work for that Gattonero pal that can’t keep his dick inside his pants. How many kids does he have now? Fourteen? Fifteen?”

“Three.”

That was Corinne’s voice answering the inquiry. She was also sitting there, under the gaze of the agents. She had removed her mask, showing her face and neko traits without filter, albeit with a bit of annoyance.

“I only have two sisters, lion-head!”

“Two that you know of. I tell you, your papa is single-cockingly keeping up the neko population after the ban. It would be fun to make a DNA test and see how many of you cats come from his ballsack.”

Corinne hissed at him, her nails delving in her pants, almost scratching the skin underneath. On his side, Renzo couldn’t avoid letting out an amused chuckle. Rumor had it that Reno was responsible for a non negligible fraction of all unexplained neko births from human women in Euterpe (many of which married with a human partner too), but that had to be just that, a rumor. No way someone with as much debt as Gattonero would risk his livelihood by spreading kids up and down the alley. Though, if he had to bet, Renzo would have expected at least two or three more Gattonero siblings to exist outside of the deadly trio of sisters that worked with him. He gazed back at EiN, meeting his annoyed stare once more. EiN shook his head, before resuming his speech.

“If I got it right, you came here to investigate the whereabouts of that wolf pirate bitch Lucia Lunarossa, or?”

“I did, yes.”

EiN squinted his eyes, his mouth morphing in disgust.

“Two weeks after your GF gave birth? Seriously? You leave your kitty partner in the hospital to look for a gal that could have sliced you to shreds? And Michelle says I’m a bad father, for Veck’s sake!”

Corinne wagged her tail, shrugged, nodded three, four times in a row.

“See, detective? I told him the same, but no. Renzo’s totally on the fast track to be a worse parent than my mom. Which is saying a lot.”

Renzo sighed, rolled his eyes too.

“I had my reasons. Lunarossa had an open beef with me. I just wanted to… be sure she wouldn’t go after them. Me? That’s a thing I was ready to accept, but if she hurt Claire or… or the children... I couldn’t let that happen. That was why…”

“Oh.”

EiN muttered something unintelligible, grumbled a little, trying to put his scrambled thoughts into words.

“I mean, I see the point, but what about witness protection programs? We offer them, you know?”

“Against a former Angel turned werewolf that survived a point blank explosion and single-handedly sunk a military corvette in the Asian Sea, with all military personnel on board? You serious?”

“...yeah, that sounds... a little too much to handle for non-elite agents.”

And you aren’t important enough to deploy the elite ones. That was the unsaid part, the one that Renzo knew. Mobilizing three or four ESPDeC agents just to protect a human-neko family from the remote risk of being killed by a wanted criminal wasn’t something they could easily push for. Yet, elite agents were exactly what was needed to keep up with someone like Lucia. A chicken and egg problem, a Gordian knot that Renzo solved in his own way – by bargaining with the source of his woes, facing her directly.

EiN’s expression seemed to relax, as he leaned forward to face Renzo even closer.

“Let me tell you this, you have some balls, kid. Father at twenty two, going head to head with stuff way out of your league despite all the odds. Your file mentioned you being in Euterpe during the Second Black Lightning too. You met a Donner?”

“Many of them.”

“And you survived to tell the tale.”

“I was lucky enough.”

To have Elena on my side. That thought bounced inside Renzo’s head again and again. Weren’t it for Elena, the first Donner he faced would have killed him. Wooing a finned girl he just met caused her to decide to save him. Talk about good luck. Yet, that was Renzo’s misfortune: never being able to complete anything on his own, always having to rely on others to finish the job – be it a former fishface killer shooting a Donner, a Stratosphere sniper downing a chaingear, or an Australian velociraptor keeping a Polish cyborg at bay. None of his successes could be considered as his own, though he always played his part in them. That was also the reason why he did what he did. He needed to protect Claire, to protect Liam and Myrike. And, for once, he was the only one that could do that. On his terms. He looked back at EiN, at the agents roaming around, putting the plant – what was left of it, at least – inside a metallic container. In the chaos that surrounded the raid, the flower seemed to have been badly damaged. Yet, Renzo didn’t care. That was the last of his concerns. EiN’s voice boomed, a new question coming up.

“Did you manage to contact her? Lunarossa, I mean.”

“She got away seconds before I could, since you gently decided to pin us down, detective.”

EiN smirked, patted Renzo’s head.

“I see two masked idiots near an open door, I pounce on them. Action. Reaction. It’s that simple, or? Next time, be less conspicuous, kid!”

“You don’t say.”

A white lie. A lie to protect their agreement. Data and a safe escape route in exchange for Renzo’s safety, for the safety of his family. A deal with the devil, but a deal he’d make a thousand times over, if that meant Claire and his kids could live without the fear of being killed by a vengeful werewolf. Yet, that seemed to work. EiN seemed satisfied by the answer, nodding in a very relaxed way, as he leaned on the chair.

“I hope your kids’ll be fine. But, hey, their mother is French, right? Don’t let her take over, don’t let her teach that foul language to them kitties! I know it, or? Getting home and being greeted with papa, questkue tu a feht oh-joordwee? That’s… ugh. French gals are hot and stubborn as fuck, you can’t win against them.”

Corinne’s half-French eyes widened at that remark, her teeth biting her lips, her claws delving even more into her pants, only for Renzo to let out an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, that’s the curse of having the hots for a blond French girl. Does yours scream décevant every time you mess up too, while scratching you all over your face?”

“No, but she’s very good at showering me with French insults when I burn dinner. About the scratching… huh, that happens too, just not when she’s angry.”

EiN sank into his chair, his head bent back.

“Say, kid. If you ever step by New Langdon, please come and visit me. We can leave our French halves taking care of them kids while I show you around the place. And I get to introduce you to Veck. She’s, like, the best detective ever. In comparison, we’re both amateurs. That chick gotta straighten your ass in shape and teach you some tricks.”

“I’ll consider the invitation, detective.”

“You truly should.”

EiN shrugged, before standing up again.

“Alright, class’s dismissed. I gotta deliver this plant to Yard, ‘fore going home. You kids go back to Italy, no detours. I’ll have two agents escort you to the airport and make sure you take the goddamn plane home.”

Renzo nodded, sighed with relief. He felt his heart lighten up, as the police agents moved to escort him and Corinne.

For once, he didn’t mess up. For once, he managed to do something, without external help.

For once, he was coming back home with a result.

And that result was the most precious he could possible obtain.

**

Claudia’s first reaction was one of shock.

Pure shock.

The hands, those black gloved hands, ripped through her tuxedo, through her shirt, through her skin as if they were made of butter. A diagonal slash from her left shoulder to her hip, blood pouring out of it, sullying what was left of her outfit. On the other side, Yu met the same fate. Her satin dress slashed in half, ripped through with ease, leaving her skin exposed, a similar gash opened on her body. They both kneeled, keeping the pain in check, trying to endure it. Yet, the question haunting Claudia’s thoughts was simple.

How.

How didn’t they see Nadia arriving? How didn’t they notice her? How could her incapacitate both of them with just one strike? Was that the difference in their levels? She let out a nervous chuckle.

Marvelous.

Nadia was simply marvelous. The more she saw her, the more she admired her no-nonsense, fast, effective movements, the more she longed for her. That was her ultimate goal. Winning Nadia. Making her her prized possession. Owning her like a puppy.

A goal worth screwing over the Underworld Auction for.

A goal that felt more and more unreachable, in that precise moment.

A shiver down her spine. Even with the enhancements that came with the nanocure that turned her into an Angel, even with her months of training with del Toro and Renka… she was still a complete newbie. Cannon fodder with no use in battle, compared with Nadia. Or even compared with Lemur, a sniper that didn’t fight at close range almost ever – but was more than able to stand her ground against both her and Yu at the same time. Out of her element, unarmed, one arm down. Still winning, until Yu remembered about her Gift, her secret win condition. Yes, betting on Yu’s help was the best she could do. A resentful young woman with no moral qualms, someone who resented the top three for having more screen time than her in the news.

The easiest to manipulate.

All Yu needed was seeing the messages sent by Lemur to Yard through an encrypted channel, – messages Claudia herself sent after cracking Lemur’s authentication factors. Her passphrase was surprisingly easy to guess and her biometrics easy to spoof, once one knew where to look. Claudia had taken great pains to copy Lemur’s writing style down to the comma, to clean up every trace of her access. A true masterwork, something that felt like second nature for the best information broker of the underworld. That was enough to sway Yu to her side and worked more than wondrously. So, why? Why did Nadia come to Lemur’s rescue instead? She bit her lips, keeping the pain at bay. Did the First Angel have… favorites? That was a stretch. Nadia wasn’t able to feel. Wasn’t able to empathize. So, why? Why did it look like she cared?

Even now, in front of her eyes, that platinum-haired pale woman was tending to Lemur, to her quickly deteriorating condition, completely ignoring the two downed angels.

“Backup has arrived, as requested. Fill me in with the details.”

Claudia slowly stood up, pressed her ripped shirt against the wound to stop the blood, as her nanostructures closed the wound. That was going to leave a scar nonetheless, but the pain was already subsiding. She coughed twice, started talking.

“N… Nadia-chan! What… what brings you here?”

“Question…”

Nadia turned to face her, her ice cold eyes emotionless, robotic.

“…who are you? Identify yourself.”

Claudia swallowed a lump of saliva. Oh, of course. Of course, that was the case. It was not that Nadia cared for Lemur. It was more that she saw her fellow Angel being attacked by another Angel and a stranger. President-chan kept her identity a secret to everyone else, including his top dog. In her shoes, Claudia would have probably behaved the same way. That gave her some peace of mind, but also made her realize matters were going to be harder to settle.

“C… Claudia Amarene. I’m… the new Seventh Angel.”

Nadia didn’t reply immediately, simply kept staring at her. Then, she spoke, in a cold, monotone voice.

“Produce evidence.”

Claudia tapped her index fingers against each other five times, in a broken pattern. The sixth time, a small hologram showed up in front of her, each finger sending a weak beam of light. Stratosphere’s logo materialized in the void, with an ever-changing shimmering set of symbols and numbers. All of those patterns were unique for Angels, almost impossible to forge. Nadia gazed at them for a dozen of seconds, stared blankly.

“Evidence acknowledged. You are who you say you are.”

“N… NADIAH!”

Lemur’s voice broke in. Fatigued. Insecure. Flawed. The volume unsteady, getting up and down.

“Na… dia! I… DON’T want to DIE! Yu… Claudia… Claudia set…”

“Calm down. I’m here. Explain, slowly.”

Nadia looked back at her, noticed the blood trickling from her ears, her shattered knee, her dangling right arm, the tears flowing down her cheeks.

“I can’t hear… I can’t hear you… your lips… move your l…”

That’s when Yu rose up, growling like a beast, as what was left of her shredded dress fell to the floor, sullied in red.

“YOU! You’re totes a bitch, you know?! Instead of being GRATEFUL that we snooped a traitor among us YOU SLASH US OPEN? What the FUCK is wrong with you, gal?!”

Nadia blinked, looked at Lemur, then at Yu again. Her voice shook ever so slightly, her emotionless expression somehow influenced by Yu’s words

“Traitor? Elaborate.”

Claudia smirked. It was time to play by the book, exactly as rehearsed.

“Yup, Nadia-chan! Lemchan here tipped off Yard about my little auction. They sent their puppy lion to take care of it and that almost got all of us killed. Isn’t that right, Yu-chan?”

Yu nodded, barely containing her rage, as her wound started to close, to form a scar running diagonally through her bare skin.

“Damn right! Clads here caught her with her hands dirty! She has lotsa docs to show! This Lemur bitch was selling us whole to protect her bitchier sis!”

“I… didn’t. I DIDN’T!”

Lemur’s scream startled them, Yu more than Claudia. She couldn’t be able to hear. She couldn’t be able to follow their discussion. That was going against all they knew about her Gift – a rather useless Gift that supported her role as a sniper. Yet, Lemur, somehow, was still there, still fighting. She grabbed Nadia’s tank top, her wounds still too deep to regenerate.

“B… Becky! Protect Becky! She… has no guilt! Becky! Protect her!”

Nadia’s eyes met Lemur’s desperate gaze, delved into it without understanding. Empathy. Compassion. Those were feelings that didn’t belong to her. Her brain refused to let them in. And yet, for once, she felt something. That was a glitch, a glitch in how Nadia ticked, a glitch in how her senses processed reality. She couldn’t feel that, and, yet, she did.

“A… acknowledged. I… promise it. On my life.”

Lemur’s grip started to loosen, her pained expression relaxing, even if just by a little.

“It’s… it’s Claudia! She SET ME up. She…”

“Bang.”

Claudia’s voice. One word, uttered with contempt. Fingers pulled together like a gun barrel, a gesture that didn’t have anything to do with her Gift, just an automatism she came to associate with its activation. That’s when her lipstick mark on Lemur’s shirt lighted up.

Before exploding, burning a hole through her chest.

Splashing blood on Nadia’s face, on her tank top. Right as Lemur’s eyes froze. Her mouth locked in a grimace. Her tears still falling. For the last time. Lemur – Katja’s body fell limp, among Nadia’s arms. And her heartbeat stopped.

Never to start again.

Silence.

Silence fell in the room.

Nadia’s eyes unblinking, her breath regular, if slightly accelerated. Motionless. Not a word. Not a twitch. Simply motionless, like a statue. Until something broke the spell.

A chuckle.

Claudia’s chuckle.

“My, my. What a way to go. A treacherous snake till the very end.”

She dusted off her shoulder, putting together what was left of her suit.

“Accusing me, who exposed her, of being the traitor? Isn’t it rich, Yu-chan?”

Yu too started smirking, despite the pain. Lemur. Lemur had died. Just now. In front of her very two eyes. The Fourth Angel was no more, which made her the Fourth Angel by default. That thought made her giggle.

“Oh, totes! Like, this stupid cow thought she could swindle us to save her li’l furry freak of a sister! That’s, like, so lame.”

“Shut up.”

Nadia’s voice interrupted them. Cold. Direct. Not a shred of emotion and, yet, filled with an undertone that might have been mistaken for rage.

“Seventh Angel Claudia Amarene. Report all the evidence you collected to His Holiness immediately. Have it cross-checked and evaluated by our forensics experts. Every. Single. Piece of it.”

She turned around, gazed at Yu.

“Fifth Angel Yu Vampyr. Write a report about your involvement in this case, without withholding any information.”

Her eyes darted from Yu to Claudia and back, in an unnatural, continuous motion.

“Your positions as Fifth and Seventh Angel are frozen until everything is cleared up and the investigation is closed. The Fourth Angel position is now assigned to Nivandra Rajaam, with immediate effect.”

“WHAT?”

Yu’s scream pierced the air, almost turning into a shriek. Yet, that didn’t faze Nadia, didn’t as much as cause a blip in her demeanor.

“You two are under investigation for the murder of the former Fourth Angel Lemur. If Lemur turns out to be a traitor as you claimed, you will be rewarded and will receive an official excuse. If she wasn’t…”

Her eyes glimmered, a sinister shine on her irises.

“…I will make sure you are the next casualties.”

Yu’s voice erupted, a roar worth of a beast.

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! You already SCARRED ME! You RUINED my perfect body! I…”

Yet, Nadia’s voice kept quiet, delivered her words without inflection.

“One life, one scar.”

She gazed at them, she gazed at them both, at the slashing wound still barely open on their chests.

“You ended a life, you pay the price. That’s my rule.”

Claudia backed down, slowly stepped away. Yu fell silent, not knowing how to reply.

“Now, go outside and leave me alone. The Stratosphere defense corps are waiting for you. I’ll take care of the body.”

“But…”

“Go now or I’ll treat this as insubordination.”

Silence fell again. Without as much as saying a word, the two of them retreated, keeping their eyes on Nadia, glancing at each other with confused stares. It was a victory, after all, but that didn’t make feel better. Nadia soured it. Made it empty. Yu’s closed her hand, almost until her nails pierced her palm. Fourth Angel Nivandra Rajaam. That was not what should have happened. Claudia too was somehow sullen. Her forgery was perfect, but what if she overlooked something? She started biting her nails, as an automatic gesture she couldn’t control. No way she made a mistake. No way. But, if she did, her life was over. Nadia Nagase, the Angel of Death, would stalk her till the end of the world. She let out a deep breath, trying to calm down. There was no need to fret, not yet. After all, if Nadia was sure they were in the wrong, she would have killed them on the spot. The fact that she let them go meant she too, in her rational mind, considered Lemur’s betrayal a possibility.

Let alone in the warehouse, Nadia bent over Katja’s lifeless body, closed down her eyelids, caressed her cold skin.

Lemur.

Was gone.

It was then that she noticed it.

Nadia’s eyes.

Her own eyes were burning. Something was going down her cheek. She touched it with her glove, looked at it.

Tears.

She was crying.

She blinked once, twice. That wasn’t possible. She couldn’t cry for someone else. Yet, instead of chastising herself, she let her tears flow, fall to the ground, fall on Lemur’s now peaceful face.

As a last tribute to a person she admired.

A person she would have loved like a sister, if only she understood the meaning of that word.