~Next Morning~
"My shift doesn't start for another few hours. It's only for today because of Jubilee."
Relia was cleaning up the house and I was getting ready as usual.
"Right," I said, looking out the door at the early morning green haze. "And I'll be gone and back as usual."
"Stay safe." Relia walked over, kissed my forehead, and opened the door.
"I'll try. By the way, what were you and Vander talking about last night?"
Relia sighed and shook her head. "It wasn't really a talk. We never met until yesterday. I was just a little bitter, is all."
When she finished, I nodded and headed outside.
"Good luck," she called out before shutting the door.
The streets were silent after the Jubilee celebrations. People were either drunk, hungover, or happily sleeping in. I could spot the occasional person still passed out along the pavement or slumped in an alleyway. For once, instead of the hissing of steam and the howling of dogs, I could even hear the faint chittering of birds.
That's new. Birds normally stay away because of the toxic smog, I thought to myself while looking up. I couldn't see them, but I could hear them.
After several more minutes of walking through the gray and green lower fissures, I finally reached the Gearwright Guild again. The three gears still spun, the walls still slick with muck. Even the hunched-over goblin-man was still digging through trash in a side street, making those same strange noises.
I pushed open the swing doors, tucking in my pants to make sure I still looked proper, even if I might be working in the muck today.
"I hope y'all enjoyed—"
Stars.
Stars and pain.
I suddenly found myself on my back, blood pouring from my nose and my head spinning with white noise.
"What the fu— GAH!"
My hands clawed at my neck as a thin wire pressed into my throat. I struggled and lurched, looking around wildly.
The furniture was destroyed. The counter cracked in half. Large men in blue-and-gold suits stood around, glaring. Wheezing, my feet scraped against the floor as I desperately struggled. Gideon lay unmoving nearby. Another warehouse worker had collapsed in a widening pool of blood and Anya was being held by her hair.
A shadow fell over me as blood dribbled into my mouth. A dark haired man, this one in also in the blue-and-gold uniform, stood over me gripping a blackjack smeared with my blood.
Fuck, fuck! What's going on?!
The loud shattering of glass made everyone in the room jerk, including the man choking me. I twisted with him as he looked back at the entrance, the wire biting deeper into my throat. He kicked the door open and there, lying in the street, was the spasming body of Karvyq.
His eyes flickered wildly as a pool of blood spread beneath his head.
"GUH! What the fuck do you guys want—" I gurgled only to be cut off by a harsher tug as the door slammed shut. "GAH!"
The door behind the counter that led upstairs opened.
A fair-skinned man stepped inside, wiping blood from his hands. His demeaning, disgusted amber gaze settled on me before shifting to Anya. Grey streaked his blond, combed back hair and aged lines cross his forehead.
"Is this the one?" he asked, tossing the rag into her face. His voice was low, carrying a naturally higher pitch edged with posh arrogance.
"Y-yes," Anya whimpered, her fingers gripping the man's wrist as he yanked her hair.
"Am I what?!" I spat angrily. "GGG!" The man behind me pulled harder as I spoke, my body jerking back. My skin was already split, my fingers desperately trying to keep the wire from cutting deeper.
From the side, another man tossed two severed heads onto the floor.
The woman from last night's mission, and a boy I had never seen but instinctively knew who to be.
"I thought he had his throat cut," I gagged weakly.
"Ah, yes," the man sighed, stepping around the shattered counter. "Rats do talk amongst themselves, don't they."
"Granted, your mother has a respectable role even among the sewage rats." His gaze wandered the room with clear disdain.
"D-don't hurt her," I choked out. "She wasn't involved in any of this."
The man snorted. "I know that Varyn."
I froze, glancing past him at Anya. She bit her lower lip, eyes dropping to the floor. The man followed my gaze, then looked back at me. He adjusted his golden cufflinks and suddenly drove his fist into my gut.
Air left my lungs in a violent wheeze. I tried not to fold and the man behind me kept me upright, the wire digging cruelly into my neck.
"The receptionist girl there, Anya, told me she warned you to never ask questions," the man said calmly, gripping my face. "Unfortunate for you, this trouble would have found you anyway because of what Karvyq did."
"I warned him not to defile her grave. Not to steal and scatter her ashes in this disgusting place."
He let go before suddenly jabbing me in the face with a punch. Blood sprayed, stars bursting in my vision. The wire finally loosened and I collapsed to the floor, coughing and choking on my own blood. He crouched and grabbed my hair.
"Worse still, he put my beautiful daughter's remains on his tainted, cursed body even after I cut off his hands. Do you understand how disgusted I feel? Do you understand my anger? My hatred?"
Through bubbling blood, I forced the words out.
"What does that have to do with me?"
------
WARNING: Non-Consent / Sexual violence referenced in this last portion
~At Varyn's House~
"Get off me!"
Dragged by her hair, a tall, bald-headed Ionian man with a long, thin ponytail trailing down his back, Relia was hauled into the kitchen. He wore a uniform trimmed in gold and blue and a polished badge fixed to his chest. His shoulder pads also had gold and red trim to also signify his position.
"As an Intelligencer for many decades, it is my duty to know who is who," he said coldly. "You dirty bitch used to be connected to the Revolution."
"That was years ago!" Relia cried, kicking backward with her heels.
"Yes, it was," the man replied darkly, pressing in close so her strikes couldn't reach him. "Does the boy know who his father is?"
She froze, panting, trying to draw breath through the fear clawing at her chest.
"No," she whispered. "He knows nothing."
"Hmph." The man's eyes dragged over her from behind, stealing a sideways glance at her tear-streaked face. "As of today, Varyn will be running the guild as our puppet-baron. You will be our eyes and ears."
He leaned closer.
"If he does not comply, and if you do not keep us informed, we will replace him with a different rat. I'm sure you understand what that means for your son. And for you."
"Don't, please," Relia choked. "I'll do it."
The man nodded. "Good."
He leaned further in, whispering next to her ear, "We have other ears. Lying to us is not advised."
Relia whimpered as he pulled back. His gaze lingered, his hand tracing along her outline as he murmured, "During the Revolution, I had a wife. She was the most beautiful woman I'd ever met and she was the love of my life... But she wanted to serve for a few years. I advised her not to."
He paused before his voice flattened.
"Now she's dead."
"No, no, please don't," Relia sobbed, her struggling renewing as the sound of shifting trousers sent panic waves through her.
"Consider this my personal vendetta," he said quietly. "I hope he finds out."
"Sir!"
The shout from his Lieutenant outside halted him before he could begin.
"Fissure residents are gathering and they look pissed! We need to move!"
He snarled and quickly readjusted himself.
"Report to our intelligence front desk every week."
Breathing out slowly with relief, Relia straightened out and wiped away tears. Meanwhile, outside, a furious glare followed the Intelligencer as he stormed away with his men.