Miss Planner was still waiting on Erica's approval for Garth, Malcolm, Chase, and Clay, and she didn't think she was going to get it. That was fine. She could live with that. At least she still had Mona, Ace, Casey, and Leon. Miss Planner's newly created experimental combat unit was starting out a little anemic, but she'd have to make do.

She could have a bigger team if she wanted, of course, but that would take a lengthy, boring round of bargaining with the other divisions. Or something even more annoying, like using up some of her research budget on acolytes from the Tower's general labor pool, or scouting recruits herself without formal approval... or begging one of the Elders for help. Ugh.

In the end, she decided to play it safe. Smaller was usually better when it came to getting results, anyway. Four would be enough for now.

"Alright, everyone! You're going to need these keycards to get into the Tower, so don't lose them! Oh, before I forget, you all got your direct deposit set up, right? Good. And... I'm sure you know this already but... it's fine to bring guests into the Tower, but the third floor and up is off limits to the general public. Any questions?"

"Umm... I had a question..."
"Yes! What is it, Casey?"

Casey was the youngest of the four teenagers, a delicate looking girl with caramel-colored skin and black hair. She was wearing a big, baggy shirt that said 'North Grandebelle High' on it in bright yellow lettering over dark red. The new recruits were sitting around in Miss Planner's office, the very same place they'd had their interview two days before.

"We're going to start our training today, right? Who's going to be teaching us?"
"Great question! We have two wonderful instructors for you. You're going to meet Ghost Knife today, and you're going to meet Replica on Friday. They're both amazing, super powerful psychics, and they're going to teach you how to use your powers like pros in no time!"

Mona and Ace exchanged excited glances. Leon sat back with his arms crossed and a little smirk on his lips. Casey anxiously wrung her hands together.

"Ghost Knife and Replica?" she muttered. "Those are weird names."

"Psychics use cute nicknames like that to quickly communicate what their abilities are. My nickname is Planner because my powers help me come up with strategies and solve problems... you can pick a nickname, too, if you want one. After you've learned how to use your powers responsibly, of course. It's kind of like a rite of passage. We can talk about all that later. Ghost Knife is running a little late, soooo... you guys haven't had lunch yet, right? Why don't we head to the cafeteria and get something to eat? Do you like pizza? The pizza here is really good. They use this special tomato sauce-"

Ding ding DING, ding ding DIIING ding!

"Oh, that's him calling now! Here's some cash, save a slice for me, okay? I'm going to go find him! Shouldn't take long!"

The tiny miss Planner waved goodbye and dashed down the hallway towards the elevator, leaving her beleaguered new recruits to find the cafeteria themselves. Efficiently putting her wallet back in her purse in the blink of an eye and popping her ancient flip phone open in another, Miss Planner found Ghost Knife left her a voicemail. Apparently, someone felt bad for him and let him inside the Tower so he wouldn't have to wait outside in the cold. She could practically hear him shivering as she listened to the recording.

"Don't like the cold, do you? I don't like it when people are late! It's so rude! Damn it. We're going to have another Dr. Tuske on our hands if I don't lay down the law..."

Miss Planner seethed all the way down from the top floor to the bottom. The famous contract killer Ghost Knife was wandering around in the lobby like a lost child. He was a skinny fellow, pale, with shoulder-length black hair and heavy bags under his eyes. His clothes were cheap and old, and he had this sort of defeated air to him.

He did not look this bad during the interview. Miss Planner watched him cluelessly shuffle around for a few moments before remembering this man was her most promising new hire, despite his pathetic demeanor.

Ghost Knife. A psychotic murderer with no conscience. One of the most talented contract killers in the Pit. A man who'd never failed to complete a mission. Hundreds of gang leaders, thieves, spies, drug dealers, and other violent criminals had been cast into the darkness with a mere wave of his hand. And now, he was hers. She was very, very lucky.

Several months ago, Miss Planner had set up a network of freelance agents to help take some of the pressure off the security division. She asked the Cut Throats to recommend some good, hardworking killers who were easy to manage, and Ghost Knife's name was at the top of the list. He'd been killing the Chosen Ones' enemies for pay ever since. Then, just last week, he came to Miss Planner out of the blue asking for a permanent place among the Chosen. He said he wanted a change of scenery, something different to challenge himself, and Miss Planner was happy to oblige him.

She could see it now. Ghost Knife would be her ace in the hole, her research division's go-to problem solver. Need a trainer for the experimental combat team? No problem. Ghost Knife can handle that. Interested in studying a new type of paranormal monster? Ghost Knife has plenty of experience fighting those, and he'll track one down in no time flat! How about breaking into a rival criminal organization's headquarters and stealing a bunch of sensitive data? You name it, Ghost Knife has probably done it before, and even if he hasn't, he'll figure it out!

Ghost Knife had the potential to become Miss Planner's new best friend. At least, that's what she thought during the interview. But... he wasn't looking so great. He kept staring off into space. Muttering to himself. Scowling. Rubbing his arm and wincing.

Was he okay?

"Hey, Ghost Knife! Good to see you! How are you doing today?"

The young assassin turned around slowly to look at his new boss. He was a full two heads taller than her. He gave a curt, almost bitter laugh.

"Not too bad, but the weather's getting colder every day. Lucky for me, a black cloak let me in when I mentioned your name."

Ghost Knife's shabby brown coat had a big hole in it. He was dressed like a homeless bum. Miss Planner couldn't let the kids see him looking like that. They'd lose their little minds. Luckily, she had the perfect excuse to get him wearing something else.

"That was nice of him! Are you excited for your first day as a Chosen One? This way, this way! We need to get you sworn in before you can get started with your group... don't worry, this won't take long! Just a few quick oaths of loyalty and you'll be good to go. We're going to grab you a blue robe to wear... what size do you want? Medium or large? Probably medium, right? Remember, black is for the acolytes, blue is for leaders like us. It's a status symbol, so wear it with pride!"