Chapter Twenty-Three: Shifting Alignments of Ambitious Tides

In Richard's eyes, there was one large silver lining to the mess of that day: once Nathan had left, Richard was able to spend an hour with Kristen, partly because of the dramatically raised alert level in Krovada after the failed attacks—even though, with Dan, Voltaire, Greymont, Claire and Alphonse all in the room, Richard wasn't able to do much besides let her finish healing him and hear what she had been up to since the two had last talked, back in Los Midas.

Despite having heard a few details from Richard's uncle, Kristen was entertained and amazed by how far Richard had progressed. While she appeared more than a little nervous about Richard's rag-tag group, she accepted the presence of the Crimson Tengu Ravens.

As much as the Third Prince of the Aurino Republic didn't want this reunion to end, the reality of his situation eventually reasserted itself, and Kristen returned to her mother while the young man and his comrades tried to find a way to return to their makeshift home.

It wasn't the easiest thing in the world to accomplish, but they had help from Nathan; he was able to slip official paperwork declaring Dan dead into the database, allowing Dan to sneak into Voltaire's cabin along with Richard without anyone wondering where the "mechanic" had gone. Security was higher than ever, but Voltaire used his magical trick to help them fool all but the most scrutinizing of systems and spells, and they managed to sidestep those.

The only snag came from Troy: he hadn't reported in on time along with the others, and Captain Allison and a few other high officers gave him a lecture —some of it loud, considering there had been terrorist attacks, and all personnel needed to be accounted for— but in the end, they all made it aboard.

The trip home didn't leave them all lying low as much as Richard would have thought—Zach, Tony, and a few others went right back to the simulators after takeoff.

Apparently, Zach was indeed no slouch, despite having so little experience: a bit to the Raven's surprise, General Xargin himself came and gave Zach some praise after watching a virtual mission, saying he had never seen a techie take to piloting so easily.

Luckily, getting off wasn't nearly as hard as getting on—security was still high enough to warrant double-checks, but they had all managed to get on easily enough; getting off wasn't much of a change. It was also far less work for Richard and Dan to slip out than it had been in Krovada.

At long last, the group reached the warp gate and their makeshift "home, sweet home" in the Valro Burrow. As they walked up back to the Burrow's town square, Richard knew they didn't look as victorious as they did after fighting the smaller gangs, but at the same time, they weren't nearly as "whipped" as they had been against Zandoris, and some of them were even in a good mood. It wasn't long before Jessica came out of the hotel, running out to them.

"Zach! Dan! Troy! You all made it back!"

The first of the three grinned and waved as she ran up, sharing a quick embrace and a kiss with her. "Sorry it took so long. Don't know if you've seen the news…. Sorry we couldn't check in, either—had to keep our cover up; lot of eyes on a Surge Zeppelin."

"Yeah, yeah…" she muttered, pulling away. "You could have called more than once, if you wanted to…especially with what happened. Terrorism? At the Humanity Unity Summit, of all the places? That was way bigger than Costa Toro! We thought half of you had been killed, especially with how quiet they were on NES. I've been freaking out…."

"Well, nice to see they can be casual about assassination attempts. I suppose state-run media is better than having to hear they've found 'Bat Boy' sleeping with a movie star for the tenth time…." Dan pointed out with a chuckle. "You're right about one thing: that was way worse than Costa Toro. I think we had more than a little luck, that we got out of that without anyone dying."

At this point, Richard was walking up, with Greymont beside him. He was having to rely on a rather crude method of concealing himself this time—he had managed to fix his mask, but Ares had blasted his armor so badly even a Metal Morph couldn't fix most of it, so he was making do with a cloak for the rest of his body.

As Jessica approached the rest, she cleared her throat. "So…were you guys able to get the job done?"

Richard's face twisted into a frown beneath the repaired mask.

"Almost," Dan said, cracking his neck a bit. "We ran into another one of those Jinn Cadre freaks. The winged punk was a pain, but we could have handled him…if his boss hadn't shown up to take charge and mess everyone up."

By now, the others were coming out to meet up with them. Hector blinked as he looked them over. "What the hell you talking about? You're all back in one piece, right? No one died…."

"We didn't," Richard cut in, speaking without much enthusiasm. "A lot of people did. People who just were unfortunate enough to get in the way.

"And, while we may have prevented another war …or at least helped prevent it… we were not able to complete all of our objectives. It turns out that Alec Steel's true identity is Ares, the so-called 'God of War', and the mastermind of the Ibis Corps.

"Regardless of what he calls himself, his power dwarfed even that of Zandoris; it's only because of luck and timing that we were able to escape. They also got away with a Dragon Helix Emerald—so this person we already can't beat and who's insane enough to be genocidal is now going to be even worse."

Voltaire grimaced a bit: Richard wasn't only being down on himself, after all—he was dragging down what was an improvement over Costa Toro —in a few senses, at least— and making it look like a total failure.

Seeing this, he managed a slight snicker. "I suppose that means we just can't hope to beat him by running up to him and smacking him over the head with a chair," he joked. He reached out and gave Richard a playful elbow. "'Fight smarter, not harder', and all that—we'll just have to find a better way, now won't we?"

"Yeah, Boss," Greymont threw in with a wag of his tail, "it'd be kind of silly to get away alive and then just complain about how 'we can't stop him' and all that…."

"And this should put a smile on your face: the Crimson Tengu Ravens made waves even all the way in Crotska!" Jessica interjected with a giggle. "The latest word on the street is you messed up some traitor soldiers all the way in Crotska. People are starting to look over their shoulders in this town, thinking we're everywhere!"

"Messing up punks in the Rakthian Empire? Hell, you're gonna get mad hype over that," Hector threw in. "Get this: there's dudes running around in this town asking how to join!"

Richard actually looked up at that. For a moment, the failure was forgotten. "Seriously?"

"Between the Hounds and the Wyverns being taken out, man…people are wising up. They can see all those gangs are chumps, compared to us."

The young man paused a bit, and forced himself to shove things-hadn't-gone-right out of his head. Hector was right: this was good news. Voltaire was on the right track—they didn't have overt power right now, and what might win this was more resources.

To make the rumor that they were everywhere become a reality. Not only had they managed to keep their momentum going after this mission, but it was actually rising. He had to use it….

Drawing himself up a bit more and regaining a bit more of his proper persona, Richard nodded. "Aside from the recruitment prospects, what has been going on here while we were gone? Any gangs or Mob agents trying to find us?"

This caused both Jessica and Hector to sour a bit. The two looked to each other, as if asking each other whether to give the recently returned this news, before they looked back and Hector cut the silence. "Well…nothing against us, Requiem, but…stuff did go down while you were gone. I guess how big a deal it is depends on who you are, but…." He paused.

"But what?"

Hector sighed. "Mayor Tyson's son Tyler and a bunch of other kids got shot dead at a rave; cops say they were trying to purchase some drugs, and they didn't have the money, or they disrespected the mob, or something, and it went sour." He grimaced, growing more uneasy. "On top of that, a bunch of other civilians were in the area when they sprayed the place with plasma fire, and…well, it got eight of them, too.

"As bad as that was, when the cops arrived, some folks got mad they were too late, someone punched a cop, the cop hit back, and in the fight a cop shot someone. Now riots are boiling all over the city."

Now Ares was pushed totally from Richard's mind: he might not have been able to do much about the Ibis Corps right now, but he could, and would, clean up this town.

The fact that his first few appearances and their order's growing reputation weren't enough to prevent such a brazen act of violence —what amounted to a massacre— infuriated him. People in this town still had little to no fear of justice. They still treated Los Midas like their own little playground, to do what they wanted with, and they didn't care who got in the way….

"Which gang did this?" he asked in a much colder voice.

Both Hector and Jessica, as well as the surrounding Ravens, began to grow nervous, hearing Richard's tone, but Jessica quickly answered. "We don't know; no flags; no colors. Nothing—only thing they know for sure is there was something rotten going down at that party, and it involved narcotics."

Richard clenched his metal hand into a fist. Dan quickly put his hand out. "Cool, man. It's a damn shame things went down like that, but there wasn't anything we could do. Even if we were in town, it's not like we knew there was going to be a drive-by. We can't be everywhere at once, right?"

Voltaire crossed his arms. "I met Tyler a few times; seemed like an easygoing chap, but also a guy who didn't know when to call it a night.

"In my circles, there were rumors about how his dad had to get his record expunged a few times—always for something drug-related. He's not blameless for what happened to him, but…still, to be murdered like that?" He sighed. "This could be a problem, Requiem."

Claire had come over —Alphonse with her, as always— and now quirked an eyebrow. She looked at Voltaire and the others and blinked. "Did…did I miss something? It's a shame we weren't there, but how does this impact us?"

"Don't know much about how politics work in Los Midas, do you, my dear?" Voltaire laughed, although his tone was mirthless. "You think the mayor is going to take this sitting down?

"This city may be corrupt, but even here you can't have a mass killing and expect nothing from it—especially when it's the mayor's son."

Hector nodded. "He's right. Just before you guys got back, the mayor came on NES, made this big speech about how he's fed up with how much crime has been allowed to go on. He said he'll do whatever it takes to clean up the city—he even said he's willing to call in the military at long last. Imagine that—after all these years…."

Richard took in a deep breath, but then simply shrugged. "It can't be helped; there's little we can do about it right now, until we see what develops. I'd be happy not getting caught off-guard again, though…."

Dan cracked his neck and casually threw in some advice. "Same here, Requiem, but we'll have to just take it as it comes. Don't lose sleep about it—you made a call, and it worked out this way. It sucks that the mayor's son and a few others died, but if we'd stopped that, then all those big-wigs might have gotten whacked, and we'd have another war breaking out! Anyone that gets anywhere has to make priorities, and it seems to me we made the right move."

Troy spit on the ground. "That piece-of-trash mayor can only blame himself for being a spineless pansy—like he's done a damn thing to help anyone but himself since he got elected! If he wants to pretend to be some tough guy, then bring it—everyone knows Los Midas is our turf, and if he brings in a few feds, it won't change a thing!"

"Our goal is not to 'own' anything, remember?" Richard sternly interjected, turning to the big man. "Our goal is to purge Los Midas of sinners. I think the best thing to do right now is find who did the shooting, and bring them to justice. Show the mayor we're allies, not just vigilantes."

Troy stared back silently for a moment; for once, he actually showed some genuine irritation and anger, not just his normal sourness. "Damn it, Requiem," he finally asked, "when are you going to stop pussyfooting around?

"All right, I get it…none of us want to get owned and die. But come on! We're proving we're the alphas around here! Once we take in the new recruits, we'll be bigger than any gang in this city!"

"Good point," Voltaire answered with a nod, looking back to Richard. "Before, with the Wyverns, they might have wanted to join just out of fear. But people persistently asking around to join? I think we can safely say they're a bit more genuine. As bad as the riots are, at the very least it's pushing those that're fed up to reach out to us."

Richard looked around a bit at that. "All right, I guess we've put it off long enough. We're going to need to separate them into those who are just qualified and those who can be trusted, though; we might do better for more numbers, but we also don't want to bloat ourselves with just anyone." He looked up to the former Hammer Wolves. "Remember—the stakes aren't as high for most of them as they are for you—and if they're former Hydra Wyverns or Midas Hounds, they may have an interest in exposing us."

"Ain't a problem," Zach threw in with a shrug, "just see who looks full-of-it. Heck, just show 'em Greg—if they freak out, they'll give it away." He turned to the dragon. "You can smell fear, right?"

The silver dragon shrugged before responding, "Well, I think I can smell fear, but I'm not sure if I can smell when someone is lying. Wait…unless…does lying smell like stale cheese?"

Voltaire looked slightly amused as he replied, "Only if the person has cheese on them, good sport. Some say that fear smells like bad eggs, but deceit doesn't really have a smell. It can usually be spotted, but it takes time to notice, and I seriously doubt I can teach you how to spot it in a day."

He then looked back to Richard and said, "Don't dwell on it; we'll have quite the intense screening process for all possible recruits. I think just the fact that we tangled with the most powerful members of the Ibis Corps and survived will keep most of the sensible ones from trying to pull anything funny anyways, especially if we leave the part about failing to stop Ares from taking the Dragon Helix Emerald out…."

"What is that…that…Helical-Gem-Thing, anyway?" Tony interjected. "Does it let him summon his own dragon, like Greg, here?"

Richard hesitated: should he go into more detail about it? After a moment, he realized it might not be long before everyone was better off knowing about them. He hoped this theft caused everyone to protect the rest more closely….

"From what I've heard, the capabilities depend on who originally infused their power into it. Even so, I don't think this means Ares now has his own dragon."

"How can you tell?" Dan asked.

"Well, for one thing, the place was a lot different from where I found Greymont…. That hardly matters, though—the thing to be worried about is, he has even more magic at his command now than he did the other day…and what he used then wasn't anywhere near his worst, I'm betting."

"Damn shame we couldn't have had Deacon a bit longer." Dan sighed. "Even if Ares would have still gotten the Emerald, we could have smacked what he wanted it for out of Deacon. Heck, maybe it could have made Greg a full dragon!"

"What are you talking about!?" the creature snapped indignantly. "I'm already a full dragon!"

"Hey, man, don't take it the wrong way," Troy said, "but you're still a far cry from what a dragon's supposed to be. I heard even the runts were supposed to be the size of hovercars…"

The man gave a bit of a yell and backpedalled a moment later as Greymont's temper flared. A bit to Richard's surprise, he gave out a rather loud, deep-throat snarl, louder than anything any of them had heard from him before. Then, snapping his mouth open, he let out a stream of fire at Troy's feet. Not only did the big man recoil, the others did, too.

"How would you know a dragon's full size, anyways!?" he shouted, nearly going bestial. "I could stretch myself big if I wanted to! I don't want to be as big as those Zaitron things! It'd be too hard to watch my toes, and…and I'd be hungrier, too!"

The young man was actually a bit shocked that Greymont was so sensitive about this, but supposed it figured—he knew so little about himself as it was, having someone question the one thing he could remember was probably a blow to him. Nevertheless, it caused a few waves of fear in the rest of the group. Richard quickly stepped forward and gave him some reassuring pats.

"Don't worry about it, Greymont; like the old saying, 'size matters not'. While legends do speak about dragons being massive forces of terror, it's also true that stories are exaggerated over time, so who knows what the truth of a dragon's normal size is supposed to be…and besides, it's not like you have all your memories, so that might be a factor, too.

"In any case, you don't have to prove anything; your powers are immense enough as it is, and, needless to say, you're a vital part of the Crimson Tengu Ravens. I'm sure just your presence will add gravitas to the newcomers' initiations."

Luckily, that seemed to do the trick, and the dragon cooled down rapidly. Richard could feel his friend's skin smoothing out underneath him until Greymont was his former self. The others relaxed as well. Luckily, the incident hadn't lasted long—it seemed they were chalking up the problem as "disrespect".

"You know, Requiem…"

Both the young man and the dragon looked up, seeing that Zach was the one who had spoken, scratching the side of his head. The man had gone oddly quiet, far from his normal, outspoken self. He seemed to be nervous about saying any more, but finally spat it out: "…no offense, but…to be honest, when this started, I thought it was pretty damn crazy. I mean, I know you saved my ass and all, but what you were talking about sounded pretty nutty back in the hotel.

"I went along with it more or less because Dan did, but…" He shrugged. "hell, we're holding on so far. We're even making a bigger name for ourselves than we did as the Hammer Wolves…and…and, well, that means a lot to me." He looked up a bit more. "I spent a lot of my life being told I wasn't ever going to amount to anything. Hell, even in school, when I was a little kid, they pretty much told Ma and Pa to get used to having a dumbass piece of trash.

"I kind of believed that, after a bit; much as you want to prove them wrong, when you keep getting hammered in the face about how much you suck, it's hard to get rid of the feeling that maybe it's true, you know? Now…well, now I'm starting to believe what you're selling. Maybe I —maybe we— can be somebodies. Maybe we can be people that matter.

"Hell, just a few days ago, I'd think that, if I was piloting a Zaitron, it would only be a dream, or some kind of hallucination, but…even if it was a fake name, and I can't really take 'official' credit for it, I managed to pull it off, and even managed to look good while doing it.

"I guess what I am trying to say is that, even if most of us can't show our faces around home still, we're still better off than before you bailed us out, Requiem—and I think whoever you sign up should know that."

"Well, I for one would have appreciated things going a bit better…" Dan added in a mutter, "…and I don't know about 'purging sin' from the world… but, so long as we're cleaning up this town, and making people think twice about what they can get away with, that's better than before; might as well keep this going, and see how high we can take it."

This was probably the most encouraging thing of all for Richard to hear. To be honest, Richard had expected another tongue-lashing from Dan; more dirty looks; more "getting the business", after what had happened. And perhaps he might have, if someone in the group had ended up dead, or he hadn't have gotten the worst of what they walked into…but what this sounded like was great anyways.

They had some silver lining to this cloud; they were continuing to gain momentum regardless of their limitations, and it seemed like more of the group was in on this out of genuine belief, rather than just going along out of "I've got nothing better to do". It seemed as if hopes were, amazingly enough, on the rise….

He finally gave a nod. "Our legacy is rising; now seems a good time to figure out how to control its growth."

"Don't sweat it," Voltaire said. "Like any blooming enterprise, expansion is tricky, but will be profitable with proper execution. Just make sure you stay on-task and give an impressive appearance."

"As soon as I get a replacement suit, that is…" Richard pointed out as he adjusted his mask.

---

Coming home to Primus Sanctus felt better after this trip than it had in a long time for Nathan Zilos. It was always a pleasure to be able to kick back and relax for a bit after having to deal with the tiring rigors of diplomacy, but considering everything that had happened in Crotska, and how hard he'd been working —not only with cleaning up the terrorism mess, but also with ensuring Richard and his group could make their escape— he was more than happy to be back in a familiar environment with friendly faces awaiting him.

As the ramp deployed and the hatch opened up, allowing the prime minister and the princess to descend with their Magna Centurion retinue, he smiled freely, seeing those waiting to meet them—the younger princess and the queen.

As soon as Nathan Zilos and Natalie descended from the ramp of the dragonfly-shaped shuttle, Miriam eagerly rushed up to him. "Sis! Uncle Nathan! You're finally back!"

"Glad to see you again, Miriam," he answered. "Sorry to keep everyone waiting so long; I'm sure you realize we had our reasons."

"Don't be so dramatic—we're only one day late," Natalie threw in.

Miriam parted from Nathan and looked to her. "Nice to see you back in the castle too, Sis."

"Oh, now you notice me?" the older princess remarked. "Just go right up to Uncle, and I might as well be a rock, over here…."

"Well, that's what you get for not visiting here before going to the summit!" Miriam teased, sticking her tongue out. "And I was worried, as a matter of fact. We all were—I think I nearly passed out when the news first broke that someone had tried an assassination."

"Well, it wasn't that bad! It's not like another war broke out," Natalie protested. "I got a little scared more than once, but the Ma—"

"I'm glad to see you're so relaxed over the ordeal," a sharp voice cut in, prompting everyone's attention to shift to Veronica, who had picked that moment to join them. Her face was happy, but not nearly so much so as Miriam's, and not as relaxed, either. "But there's no need to dismiss your sister's compassion. I was worried sick myself; if the worst had happened, we would be at war, and…."

She trailed off, swallowing. For a moment, it looked as if she was going to start misting up.

"I'm grateful the Magna Centurions and the fleet did their jobs so well, is all. I'll have to commend them…." she managed to say with more restraint.

Nathan lost his own smile: he had forgotten all about the truth he knew, but which they didn't. They all still believed Richard was dead; if another family member, or multiple members, were to follow suit, there was no telling what would happen to Veronica's state of mind—and she had already been most incensed against any and all supposed terrorists. Miriam's own look grew uncomfortable as she started to move next to Veronica, seeming to realize her mother might be on the verge of another breakdown.

To try and diffuse this, Nathan forced a smile. "Well, nothing to be afraid of now; the danger has passed. And the Magna Centurions and the rest of the army will ensure there won't be any more tragedies."

Veronica's face abruptly darkened. She seemed to struggle to force herself to be quiet as she bowed her head. "And if they were so 'on top of things' in the first place, I'd still have three sons," she muttered. Immediately she closed her eyes and swallowed, realizing she had let loose some of her emotions, and quickly regained her composure. She looked back up, "proper" once again. "In spite of the attacks, was any diplomacy able to be salvaged?"

Nathan took a moment to stroke his beard. "More or less, Queen Zilos. In a way, it was good that there were traitors in all three armies—a failure on everyone's part, rather than a reason to blame one side for all of this. Plus, it showed that we all need to observe our soldiers more intently, and that —even more importantly— someone is clearly trying to set us against one another.

"As far as outright negotiations…" He gave a shrug. "…we didn't get everything we wanted out of the Rakthian and Jiodisan governments, no, but I don't think we ever expected to walk away from that summit with that much to begin with. We reached common grounds on a few things, and I'm hoping that we'll have more dealings with Trevelyan in the future."

"Didn't you two get into an argument while we were stretching our legs?" Natalie asked.

Nathan chuckled. "If you thought that was an argument, dear, you haven't been around enough Rakthians. He seems like a man of his word—that's better than we usually get."

Natalie frowned a bit, but then sighed, looking rather dismayed. "As far as the Jiodisans, Setsuko seemed friendly enough, but…" She grimaced. "…something was off about her. She seemed far too nervous for a formal event, even before the attacks happened."

The prime minister's lips twisted. "I hate to inform you of this, Natalie, but in all likelihood, it's as General Ian said, and you were just dealing with a body-double the whole time.

"I know you and the Empress are friends, but sadly, the blunt reality of the situation is that she's a mere figurehead, and that Yata just uses her to further his own ends. I wouldn't put it past him to have offered up a fake for such formalities. This game we play is a game of many phases, and with layers of deception—but it's still better than outright hostility." He paused. "…Although…."

Natalie looked up as her uncle began to muse, but he didn't finish his thought, and Veronica broke the silence, since it looked as if he had nothing more to tell them. "I don't really trust Dmitri or Yata —both are out more for their own glory than anything else— but even so, I'd like to think they're rational enough to realize escalating things into a worldwide war right now wouldn't help them. Anyway…I'm proud that you managed to stay reserved and diplomatic in that situation, Natalie."

The young woman smiled. "I was mostly disturbed that one of our own pilots —Boomhauer killed his gunner beforehand, did you hear?— had the audacity to betray their nation and nearly ruin everything…but even that wasn't enough to unravel my composure." She drew herself up a bit more, putting on a 'royal' face. "After all, I have been observing how my father handles politics and tense situations before you even knew him, Your Highness."

Nathan winced a bit at that. Even if it was meant all in good fun, he really wished that she hadn't said it just now; Veronica was having enough trouble as it was, and still looked shaken. Before he could react, though, a stern voice suddenly cut in, "Rest assured, Sister; the traitor shall pay harshly for such treachery—after we extract everything he knows, anyways."

The sound of clicking boots rang out, prompting the gathering to turn around.

Three more Magna Centurions were joining them: Ryuji on the left, Samuel on the right, and, right in the middle, Orion. Nathan managed to catch Natalie looking to her brother, and saw her smile was considerably wider than it had been for Veronica or for Miriam. Orion gave a nod to Natalie as he came to a stop —rather curt, but there all the same— and a formal, precise bow to the prime minister, which the old man returned.

"Good to see you again, Orion. Thank you for being here for my arrival." Natalie spoke up. "Where's Raphael?"

"Working, alongside Chad and Steiner; we're investigating how much truth there is to that rumor of spy bases on a few islands between Jiodisa's territory and ours," he answered with all the readiness of a military officer. "I'm glad to see you and the prime minister were unhurt by the surprise attacks." He turned his head to the Magna Centurions flanking them and gave a similar nod. "Gifford, Michael, Michelle…my thanks for defending them and everyone else at the Humanity Summit."

Michael grinned in response. "Thanks from Orion? Guess this really is my lucky day. Just doing our job; a few surprises, yeah, but nothing we can't handle."

Michelle cleared her throat, giving Michael a stern look. "My brother's ego aside, sir, I thank you for your commendation, but you should save some of your praise for the Zaitron pilots and gunners; it was their quick thinking that neutralized our traitor before he could open fire.

"To be honest, I'm rather uneasy that we still know so little about everything. We heard that there were additional Grizanaughts set to make an assault, but someone disabled them before they could mobilize—and I doubt it was Rakthia!" She snorted. "Their general would have boasted of it, like he did about the rest of the traitors they caught, if that were the case."

"I'm wondering how much of this was actually to start a war," Gifford grimly added. "The Mausoleum also got hit—why? There weren't any diplomats there, and they wouldn't let us in, or say what was taken…."

"Let's start with what we know," Orion answered. "I was told one of the traitor Zaitron pilots was captured alive. What has he to say?"

"Very little, unfortunately," the prime minister answered. "He's quite stubborn…and quite loyal to whatever cause he was working for. He would've committed suicide if Michelle hadn't used a freezing charm before he could swallow the pill.

"His full title is Lieutenant Commander George Boomhauer; very impressive record, and he's served for over a decade. He's only worked the Navy for a year, though—he transferred and became a Zaitron pilot with Steiner's recommendation. Seems he spent most of his career until then serving as one of his personal soldiers."

"So, Steiner would know this traitor best." Orion answered, speaking a bit less readily than he had a moment ago—a bit more restrainedly.

"Steiner and the others are set to return by day's end," Samuel said. "We can talk to him about this then. It's a damn shame Fiona isn't here at the moment—I bet she could crack Boomhauer easy enough."

"I won't be waiting; I want to learn what he knows, so that I may more quickly make him pay for the dishonor he brought to the Aurino forces," Orion retorted. "I'll be contacting Steiner now, and asking for his entire history with this man."

Natalie had spent much of this discussion looking around the entourage that had come to meet them, and frowned slightly. "Where is Father? I thought His Majesty might want to see his brother and daughter returning."

"He's sorry he can't be here to greet you," Veronica answered, "but he had an important conference with several of the doges. It had already been delayed once by Czar Grizdosky, calling him about the events at the summit." She smiled a bit. "He told me to assure you all that he'll make up for it at dinner."

"There's Andross for you…always on damage control like green on a turtle," Nathan chuckled a bit. "Still—not to trivialize his chat with the doges, but I hope he's done soon. I've got a lot of things I'd like to go over with him." He turned his head to Orion. "There's no doubt in my mind that someone tried to get us at each other's throats in Crotska. I'd like to know who."

Orion nodded. "I've been having such sentiments myself, Uncle; there have been far too many events that have ended in less-than-satisfactory ways, as of late.

"That is not allowable; the will of justice is absolute, and, on my honor as the First Prince of the Aurino Republic, and as the Knight of Knights of the Magna Centurion, I will purge my nation of all that is putting it in such a corrupt state."

Veronica saw the resolve burning in the oldest prince's eyes, and murmured,"I know you want to set things right, Orion, but don't overdo it."

Nathan chuckled, adding, "She's right, Orion—passion is good, but if you get overzealous, you'll be blinded by it. Let's just focus on one thing at a time. For example, Orion, what's your current impression of the Ibis Corps?"

Orion closed his eyes before retorting sharply, "You mean that PMC group that has a really high opinion of themselves? They're clever thugs, but thugs all the same. They can burrow themselves into darkness if they like, but no matter how much they dig —no matter how much they spout about the worthiness of their cause— I shall find every last one of those termites and give them the fate they deserve. It infuriates me when my enemies underestimate me, and the Ibis Corps think they're untouchable."

Nathan gave a cheerful laugh at that. "Yes, they do seem to think they're rather special these days, eh? But I think that, since we're linking them to more and more attacks, it would be a good idea to double our efforts towards exposing them. In fact, I think that's the first idea I will propose to your father when he's done talking. So, for right now…" He clapped his hands together. "…how about lunch?"

"Do as you like, Prime Minister," Orion answered simply as he turned, gesturing to the centurions with the older man. "The three of you are going to give me a full debriefing."

Michael let out a little moan. "Aw, come on; we just got back…."

"Your lax mannerisms are beginning to become an eyesore, Michael," Orion sharply retorted. "You're acting almost as irritatingly as Rich…."

The eldest prince caught himself; out of the corner of his gaze, he saw Veronica staring at him.

He paused for a full second, then turned to the group and bowed again. "Prime Minister, Your Highness…by your leave."

The queen paused for a second of her own before nodding back; Nathan and the princesses did so far more readily. The six Magna Centurions then turned and began to walk off, Michael drawing himself up and trying to look bolder after that tongue lashing from the prince.

"Oh, just one more thing, Orion," Nathan spoke up with a cough.

While the other three kept walking, Orion turned and looked.

"What do you think of Alec Steel?"

Orion didn't answer right away, but studied Nathan's face for a moment. It seemed he was trying to determine if there was more to that question than his uncle had said outright.

"I think he's yet another self-absorbed lobbyist out for his own profit," he answered. "Should I change that evaluation?"

Veronica also looked at Nathan at this; after all, she had heard the news that Steel was going to be attending the summit, as had everyone else. She had thought it was disgraceful, as most did, but she had also been secretly glad that he had been out of Primus Sanctus for a few days. Now, however, she gave Nathan an intense look.

At length, the old man stroked his beard. "Well…I haven't seen him do anything blatantly unethical, if that's what you mean, but he gives off a…deceitful feeling."

Orion paused, then gave a nod. "I can see much ambition burning in his eyes when he talks to His Highness. He seems to want to advance himself by way of our king."

"That might not be a crime in and of itself," Samuel chimed in, "but, to be honest, anyone cozying up to a king should have an eye or two kept on them."

Nathan watched Orion's face a moment longer, then slowly nodded. "Well, we'll see what happens. Anyway, off you go—I've got a missed call I need to return."

Later that day, Ares was sitting in his public office, situated in a skyscraper in the depths of Los Midas.

Alec Steel's chartered office in that building (he floated around so much that he could honestly use them everywhere, and had acquired spaces accordingly) was quite sleek and new. With the sky filling the back of the room, especially at this time of day, when the sun was setting, it gave one the impression of being perched in the vast firmament of the heavens.

There were also other views present at the moment, holographic ones being produced by special floor projectors. The images they displayed were live feeds from security monitors. Steel, his back to the door and his hands folded, watched them alongside the setting sun.

An image of interest appeared on one screen; at once, he snapped his fingers. Panels on the ceiling opened, and blinds slowly descended over the large window. In moments, the room was plunged into darkness.

The lobbyist seemed to enjoy it as the light faded, sitting in the room silently as it plunged into blackness. After that, lights flickered on, not terribly bright ones, but enough to see by.

His black ivory chair swiveled back around as he extended a finger to his seemingly flawless desk, touching a padded button. "You may enter now, Lord Steiner."

The double doors on the end of the room slowly opened up, and a large, armored, bald man was framed in the entrance. As he walked in, he actually slowed a bit, hearing the large echoes as he stepped inside. He looked around a bit, almost as if expecting to see a lot more than the desk at the end.

Alec was perfectly calm as he pressed another button, causing the floor to open up again and slide a small mini-bar out and up. He proceeded to pluck a decanter and one of the glass tumblers from it, then poured himself a drink. As he did, the big man swished his mouth a bit and walked forward.

"Welcome to my office—at least, my Los Midas one. A bit too minimalist at the moment, but that can always be fixed later…. Care for a drink? So sorry for the short notice; I do hope I didn't cause complications in your current mission."

Steiner snorted, cracking his neck as he reached the empty seat before the desk and took it. "Like it was worth the time of a Magna Centurion anyway—just sniffing around looking for something fishy; no chance of any real action. If I can't have any fun on the job, the rookies and normal soldiers can have it. I'll take that drink, though. Everyone's such a pain, nowadays…."

Steel set the first drink on the opposite side of the desk. In the time it took him to put the bottle away and lean back, Steiner had already slammed it down like a shot. Alec smirked.

"Seems like everyone's breathing down your neck these days, eh? Well, your reputation is growing a bit more, each day."

Steiner's teeth clenched; his fist nearly shattered the glass in its grip, and he swore.

"They're just jealous, and blaming me for their own damn messes—even Orion! Hell, he talks all the time about how naive his brother was —how much of a screw-up— and yet he gets mad at me because I had the spine to take that runt out!

"And Fiona gets so bent out of shape about me and women, like they didn't enjoy it. And everyone else? They're just as dimwitted as that half-blood twit was! They're all looking for a reason to make me look bad…." He trailed off here, then looked back up to Alec. "So, I assumed that when you said you wanted me to take care of this little problem, I needed to come running fast."

The lobbyist folded his hands. "Yes; I'm afraid letting this fester won't be very helpful to my chief employer. At the same time, he informs me that it's a tad…vexing that you left such a sloppy trail. If you'd been a bit more subtle about promoting him, and didn't make it clear you two were so 'chummy', there'd be no issue to begin with."

Steiner's anger flared as he slammed the glass down on the table hard enough to crack said glass. "He was in my unit years before I started working with you, damn it! How the hell was I supposed to change the past? All you told me was that you needed an inside guy who was loyal—that's it! George Boomhauer was the man for the job!"

"Perhaps if his trigger finger had been faster…" Alec answered, perfectly composed in spite of the outburst. "And I assure you that there are ways of altering history…or, at least, how it's understood. If I'd known it was going to be an issue, I would have attended to the matter for you…but," He waved his hand. "the past is past. We'll arrange for someone else to take the fall for that affair."

The bald man calmed a bit at that, slowly leaning back into his chair.

"Of course, the price of cleaning up after you will be a favor…."

Steiner gave a snort. "Figures; no such thing as a free lunch…. Who do you want whacked this time?"

Alec chuckled darkly, and a spark of hatred flashed across his eyes. "Your eagerness is most appreciated, but this request is a tad more elaborate than my previous ones. Do you know who the Crimson Tengu Ravens are?"

Steiner was motionless for a moment. "I think I heard of some new gang popping up in Los Midas…. You're actually having trouble with those urban rats?"

"'Trouble' is a bit of a strong word," Alec said with a light chuckle. "They're more like roaches that ran under the fridge before they could get stepped on. Or, in our case, flies that somehow keep popping up where they're not wanted.

"They're a bit more than just a flavor-of-the-month gang; more resources than they should have. Our superior tells us they've appeared twice now in what should have been perfectly secret operations. We aren't eager for a third appearance."

The bald man chuckled as well. "Nothing funnier than busting open the skulls of cocky punks. All right, just line 'em up for me; I'll take 'em out during a patrol."

"I'm afraid we don't have their precise location as of yet; you'll have to drive them out of their hive."

Steiner's amusement vanished. "And just how the hell am I supposed to do that without getting more unwanted attention!?"

"Don't get so worked up; our superior has a plan. You're aware that the Magna Obelisk is on the verge of completion, yes?"

"Yeah, sure—so what?"

"If you've paid attention to the news, then you know the Mayor of Los Midas is requesting federal assistance in bringing his city under control. It would fit together quite well if you were the one to preside over its official deployment there."

The big man, for once, was rendered mute; he stared blankly for a moment. "Hold on—you want me to deploy the new occupation air barge over Aurino soil? I may not be the best at public relations, but if I deploy that over an Aurino city…."

The cruel lobbyist chuckled again and pressed a button; a hand-sized hologram of the Magna Obelisk appeared in front of him. Steiner eyed the Magna Obelisk's shape and features: a gray-and-red, spherical flying fortress, with four vertical castle-style towers on its sides, engines on the bottom, a docking bay for smaller crafts, and various cannons littering its metal body.

As the Magna Obelisk's image spun around, Alec chided, "Give me a little credit, Lord Steiner. I don't expect you to just send one of your country's state-of-the-art weapons into one of your own cities for no reason. You see, the Magna Obelisk was a collaborative project by a great number of contractors—Los Midas contractors, to be exact.

"So it's not necessarily unheard of that it would first deploy over their town, to showcase the result of their hard work, that sort of thing…and, since your family has a history in Los Midas, it's also only fitting you should preside over it."

He leaned back a bit more. "On the night of the Magna Obelisk's deployment, there will be an Electro Ball game honoring both you and the Aurino Republic. There will also be an…accident." He looked down slightly. "One of our associates has been uncooperative as of late, and needs to be punished most harshly.

"Nothing elaborate for the likes of him—a bomb will suffice to end whatever delusions of 'untouchability' he labors under, as well as his life. And since the people we want taken out happen to fashion themselves as vigilantes, there will be no trouble at all blaming the entire attack on them. In the ensuing panic, no one will know what's going on, and hysteria will be rampant.

"That'll be your chance to use the Magna Obelisk to purge Los Midas of all its trouble makers, including the Crimson Tengu Ravens. You'll be a hero, and we won't have to worry about these pests buzzing around again." He leveled his gaze. "There was quite a lot in that; did you get all of it?"

Steiner paused; it was unclear what exactly had made him do so—the subtle insult that had been thrown his way, or the fact that the collateral damage of this plan would be through the roof. However, if one knew Steiner personally, they already knew which one it was.

He crossed his arms and shook his head. "Damn…. When you want to move, you move big, don't you? All right, why not?" He shrugged. "It might even put some of those moaning maggots in their place.

"But are you sure King Andross will have me take the Magna Obelisk to Los Midas? Sure, he's been cool with me, but his brother and some of the others have been on my ass left-and-right ever since Richie bit the big one; this might be a bit of a stretch."

"I'll see to the king. Don't worry about that—just ensure that you get the job done."

The big man smirked; the light of hunger began to gleam in his eyes again. "Oh, don't worry; it's been a while since I did a solo operation, but when no one's holding me back, I can be really damn solid about exterminating every last rat in the rat hole.

"It'll be my pleasure to lay down the law in that city; Los Midas has been infested with stubborn vermin for a long time now, and this is just the excuse to do the little culling that I was hoping to! As soon as things are set up, I'll get this done.

"One question—who's getting offed to kick this off?"

"The Diamond Don."

The smirk vanished. Steiner, as big and arrogant as he was; as much pride as he had, felt his eyes shrink into pinpricks. He almost fell out of his chair, his mouth hanging open.

Alec smiled before speaking more firmly than before. "We used to have an alliance, but he's gotten too self-absorbed; too concerned about his small-time empire. He refuses to see the bigger picture, so, like I said, the last thing he will see is how easily his life can be snuffed. Don't tell me you're getting scared, now!" He gestured out to Steiner. "A big, tough Magna Centurion like you is scared of making a move on the Mob?"

"Hell no!" Steiner barked defensively. Even so, he uneasily leaned back in his chair and glanced around. "It's just…being responsible for the death of the Don is going to give me a lot grief; maybe even more than what I'm getting right now…."

For the first time, Alec's smile began to look utterly fake. His eyes burned as he focused hard on the larger man, slowly leaning forward and speaking in a much sharper tone.

"I didn't think you to be this cautious, Lord Steiner. They won't bother if you unless I will it— what you truly should be worried about is angering neither the Mob nor your comrades in Primus Sanctus, but our superior."

Steiner stiffened a bit more, but it looked like most of his fear was orientated toward that last part now, rather than at his earlier concerns.

"Besides," Alec continued as he leaned back, "you won't be directly involved with his death. You have a collaborator for that."

The big man reacted in shock. "Wh…what? 'Collaborator'?" His teeth gritted in irritation. "You're sending in an agent to watch me!? I don't need a damn chaperone!"

"I'm sorry you were under the impression this was your mission, but you'll still work with whoever we say you'll work with," Alec retorted as he looked to one side of his desk, tapping on it again to pop up some unidirectional hologram monitors.

Their orientation kept Steiner from seeing what was on them, which upset him as the lobbyist calmly glanced over them. "Our top agents have more important things to do than a side cleanup mission. We have someone else—a man wanting to get into my good graces, and taking this on to prove himself. As he's an insider, he should be useful." His gaze suddenly shifted to one of the monitors. "And he seems to have arrived."

Sweeping a finger to dismiss the monitors, he looked up to the doors. "Come right in, Mister Raszkowski."

Steiner turned a bit in his seat to look as the doors opened. The man who came in looked like neither a formidable fighter nor an especially intelligent person.

He also didn't look like he had been doing well as of late. While he was neatly dressed and had done his hair up in a rather expensive style, someone had beaten his face in so badly that his entire right eye and the surrounding socket were missing. He had a cybernetic replacement, and not a very stylish one either. It was far more overt and ugly than necessary, with a glowing red camera lens, rather than a genuine artificial orb.

Nevertheless, he had something of a slick, and even cocky, look about him as he walked in…at least, he did until the doors shut themselves behind him. As they produced a cavernous echo, Steiner turned to face him fully. At once, the man froze; his cockiness turned to shock and terror, like a deer in a headlight.

"Oh, hell—a Magna Centurion!?"

"At ease, Mister Raszkowski," Alec answered, gesturing to his other guest. "Lord Steiner, here, is an associate of ours, and will be your partner for this operation."

Steiner scowled, especially on seeing Raszkowski wipe a rather large amount of sweat from his forehead. "Seriously? This maggot is your insider?"

"Oh, he's quite the ambitious fellow; you'd be surprised how much you have in common," Alec answered calmly. "Dick Blackberry Raszkowski: a former gangster who tired of his status and moved to the Mob for higher prestige. It seems that he feels after a few weeks of his new position that it's still too little—he's aiming to make a power play. Well," He put his hands in front of him again. "I can certainly respect someone who sees what he wants and takes it. Still…" He looked a bit more intently at the new man. "…there is something to be said about being a little too ambitious. As I said, your loyalties shifted not too long ago—are you really so eager to shift it again?"

"You're kidding, right?" Dick answered. "Loyalties…. Hell, I'm loyal to whoever is willing to get me where I want to go—and you showed you've got it, Mister Steel. I thought I'd gotten away from nostalgic bastards when I left the Hammer Wolves. That pain-in-the-ass Don is just as stuck as a damn mule—he can't see the times are changing, either!" He gestured to himself. "Me? I've got all these ideas; all these ways to roll us into the new century, to give us a much smoother gig. And what the hell do they do?" He sneered and gestured to his cybernetic implant. "Leave me with this because one damn deal goes sour…and that because they didn't listen to me in the first place! No damn respect…." He looked up again, making a much more pleasant smile.

"But you guys…you've made it clear to the Don and to me who has the power. And I'm more than grateful about the new eye. I'm telling you, I'm your man; I'll get you whatever you're looking for."

Alec looked back to Steiner. "Dick, here, has proven himself to be quite useful; he might end up being quite an advantageous resource after all. It was mostly his doing that we're able to set up this entire operation."

The Magna Centurion quirked a brow. "Huh?"

"Didn't you think it was at all odd that the mayor's son would suddenly earn the ire of the dealers he had made sure to keep well-paid for so long?" Alec mused idly.

Steiner stared at Steel for a moment, putting two and two together. His eyes lit up in realization; Dick grinned at his own cleverness.

"Dick knew him from a few parties—enough to get in and pay the right people to orchestrate an angry, and fatal, disagreement. To top it off, he even bribed a cop to flare up the riots and tip the scales even further in our favor."

"The Don didn't care much for it, even though the guy had to go—disrespect, and all that," the cocky young man threw in. "Hell, I did him a favor; he always worries too much about keeping things smooth. It's like biting tinfoil, listening to him…."

"Well, some spoiled rich brat is nothing; I should know." Steiner retorted. "This is a blast that's going to put the kibosh on the Don?"

Alec nodded before adding, "Yes; I figure, if you can claim that the Crimson Tengu Ravens have stolen a few craft to cause even more havoc, it would make an even bigger mess, and thus give you even more of an excuse not to hold back, eh?"

Steiner saw that Steel wasn't showing any humor in that remark. "I see you've planned for every possible situation…. Just how big are these Crimson Tengu Whatever's?"

Dick suddenly winced. "Hey, I know you Magna Centurions are mad-strong and all that, but don't think those guys are lightweights. Their leader, Requiem, moves like a freaking demon, man! I had top-of-the-line firepower, the newest Jaeger Cogs —the works!— and it all did jack; he still made me look like a fool! "

Steiner cracked his neck. "Let's get this straight right now, you twig: a Magna Centurion is on a whole other level from you gutter-trash. What seems strong to you is just a warm-up for me. This Requiem punk is just another trickster—one that I'm going to grind beneath my boot!"

Alec closed his eyes and cleared his throat before interjecting, "Don't underestimate Requiem, Bolton Steiner. My …agents… tell me that he's no amateur when it comes to fighting.

"Plus, he seems to have an unnatural power to him. I wouldn't say that he is untouchable, but he did defeat Deacon Cortez, one of the Jinn Cadre of the Ibis Corps, and managed to survive fighting with Zandoris, the Majin Chevalier."

Steiner formed an even-wider grin as he quickly jabbed back, "I guess that just means that the elite fighters of the Ibis Corps aren't as great as they puff themselves up to be, eh? Being the best at fighting —and killing— is in my blood! When I see this joker, I'll make him beg for mercy!"

Steel smiled. "I guess we'll see if you can live up to that title, eh, 'Milord'?

"Just in case your skills aren't as peerless as you think they are, I have a few items for you to test out in the operation. Heh…just think of it as another thing you're being asked in return for the favor."

Alec opened one hand, revealing a small glass bottle filled with tiny seeds, and placed it before Steiner. "There's a batch of new bio-monsters my branch in the Jiodisan Union put together, called Ojigi Hounds. Unleashing them and blaming them on the Crimson Tengu Ravens should be a dandy way to raise further panic; just plant them like seeds, then cast the awakening spell to unleash them."

Steiner took in what Steel was saying, and muttered, "The Magna Obelisk, some Zaitrons, and now Jiodisan bio-weapons? That's—"

"No need to overthink this, Milord," Alec cut him off. "We're quite good at causing so much panic and giving so many people things to look at that they don't have time to consider what's coming from where.

"Besides, the masses are stupid, as you well know—glorified sheep. Tell them anything from a position of authority, and they'll believe it. They prefer other people to do their thinking for them; always have. Then they prefer others to act for them.

"If even a tenth of the populace actually cared one way or another about what you do on your missions, you would have been out of your order a long time ago, sir. Of course, there'll be those who doubt what they're told, but, like always, those that seek the truth will be crushed."

The big man clenched his teeth, rather irritated at that, but Steel merely sighed before continuing, "Honestly, the truly sad part about Requiem's order is that these barely-conscious cows are who they think are worth defending. Feel free to do your worst; in the end, they'll be an all-encompassing scapegoat. In any case, I have another gift to tip the scales even further in your favor."

Again, Steiner never saw Steel reach for anything, but focused instead upon what was revealed as Alec slowly, almost methodically, moved his other hand, currently wrapped around something small, to a spot adjacent to the first bottle and opened it. Slowly, he pulled the hand away.

Another small glass bottle sat there; this one was filled to the brim with a blood-red liquid. Steiner's eyes widened at the sight. "Is…is that…?"

Alec smirked a bit and slowly nodded.

"I thought it was still…unstable?"

Alec's smile widened. "There were some setbacks to finishing the formula when Salinger was put into a coma; Professor Fraction was able to pick up the slack afterward, though. I have been assured the formula works; the test subjects' strength increased tremendously—two hundred percent, I hear. Just don't ingest anything spicy or sugary for a bit before and after taking it."

Steiner paused for a moment longer, then snorted as he reached out and took both bottles. "Like I need some crutch. I'll hang onto this, though; after all this is over and done with, I'd like to wipe that condescending look off of Orion's face…."

"Hey! Hey!" Dick suddenly spoke up. "What about my stash?"

"Yes, yes," Alec answered, waving his hand and leaning back in his seat, "your customized Mercury Zaitron will be complete by tomorrow night, and on the Magna Obelisk. It took quite a bit of effort to provide you with such a weapon; we would appreciate it if it went to good use."

Dick's face showed his hunger for the coming chaos as he muttered, "Oh, man, it's all coming together; I told Cathy it would just take a few tough calls to make it, and soon things are going to be as they should! If I pull this off and both the Don and Requiem are axed, you will ensure I become the new head of the Mob, right?"

Alec slouched back in his chair before replying casually, "As long as you don't forget your loyalties, I think you'll make a fine godfather of crime, Mister Raszkowski."

Dick laughed eagerly. "That's what I've been telling everybody! Glad to see that other guys in this world have vision, you know? Soon, everyone is going to see who the small-time players are, and who really can play in the big leagues! Hear that, Nicholson? Soon you're going to be in the dirt with all the other losers, while I am on top of the world!"

Alec's smile got thinner as he said curtly, "Your zeal is much appreciated; I hope that your competence is on the same level. You will be forwarded more instructions shortly; till then, I suggest both of you go over everything, to ensure there's no chance of a mistake. You might also want to go over tactics, to ensure you crush Requiem once and for all."

Dick suddenly looked furious; he cried out, "No kidding—that masked punk thinks he's a hot-shot, but he's going to have another thing coming when he doesn't have the element of surprise!"

Steiner eyed Alec carefully. "Just to be clear, this is legit, right?"

Alec formed a grin as he retorted frostily, "My…I thought we were all mature enough to know that nothing is absolute in this world…. Even so, perform as expected, and things will go as I said."

Steiner saw the raw anger in the eyes of the blond haired man. "So, even though all the pansies pushing for peace were able to survive, you think you can cause another war to break out?"

Alec snickered. "My superior didn't get this far without contingency plans. It's only a matter of time—the wheels of this world may be running on the stagnant winds of the illusion of peace, but all it will take is some prodding in the right places, and the storm clouds of war will be brewed soon enough. Stand by me, gentlemen, and you will be on the right side of history!"

Steiner clenched a fist eagerly. "Sounds good to me—a war is what this nation really needs. If we go back to war, I don't have to hold back; the rules are a lot looser in times of war. Heh—those third-rate, dirty, "legal" immigrants can be rounded up under acts of suspected treason, and a lot of other things get overlooked, too. It'll be just like the good old days of my youth, and it will make the Republic a stronger, purer nation!

"That's right—the weak may not like it, but wars are great for flushing out all those losers that're clogging my nation with their worthless existences! It helps purge the trash, and rip away all that excess baggage, and, as long as you're the winner —as long as you're strong— war can be a damn good thing! Haha…I am so looking forward to continuing the grand Steiner family's tradition of purifying the Aurino Republic!"

Ares poured three glasses of wine and held up his own, proclaiming, "Oh, I assure you, there will be quite a bit of purifying in the world to come. Steiner, you and I have had a good alliance, making things work as they should over the years; may this alliance continue. Gentlemen, a toast to doing what must be done!"

Dick eagerly took a glass and added, excited, "You can make this plan as crazy as you like; as long as I'm not in the frontlines, and I can profit from it, it works for me!"

Steiner saw Dick gulp the glassful, and quipped, amused, "Guess you have a sharper eye than I thought. This might work out after all…."

As Steiner and Dick raised their glasses, Alec leaned back and said, "Now that we've got the foundation of this operation settled, it would be best if you two plan further without me; I have other operations to sharpen."

Steiner nodded. "It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Mister Steel; tell your boss how grateful I am that you guys know what's really important in this world."

Alec gave a low chuckle. "Oh, I'm sure he will know your gratitude quite soon…but he will be looking much more eagerly for results…."

Dick went to shake the ominous man's hand, only to see Alec was not inviting a handshake. He quickly backed off, saying "Oh, don't worry—this time we've got everything lined up to win; there's no way a bunch of punks are going to beat this! Bada-bing, bada-boom—when this is over, everyone that's been holding me back will get what's coming to them!"

Steiner snorted, adding, "Even if they've tangled with the Ibis Corps before, this time there won't be anywhere for them to run, nor anyplace for them to hide! I'll show them how true elites get things done!"

Steiner and Dick left the office; after Ares watched the unlikely duo leave and made sure the two couldn't hear him, he chuckled darkly; this chuckle then erupted into an outburst of wicked amusement.

After he had settled down again, he reclined in his chair and muttered dramatically to himself, "Oh, things will get done, one way or another. It's true, you have potential, dog, but I failed to mention that it is merely as a sacrificial pawn….

"I suppose it would have been best to mention to Steiner that the super-strength formula can lead to fits of insanity, but I've heard he's the type to let his bloodlust consume him in the heat of battle, so I doubt it'll really matter.

"Heh—a fanatical dog that wants red meat, and an old hound that wants to bask in glory no matter what it takes to get the spotlight to shine on him: just another pair of inferior beings that'll be disposed of once their usefulness has ended.

"Deacon swears he could have killed Requiem if he wasn't surprised; Zandoris pledges that he was just getting ready to go all-out when the Magna Centurions arrived, and that silver justice-preaching buffoon was barely worth my time.

"For all his arrogance, though, Steiner should be skilled enough to take out Requiem and his band; I suppose we'll see just how resilient those bugs really are. If the Crimson Tengu Ravens survive this, I'll have to divert a lot more attention to them than I would prefer to…."

Ares then took his Dragon Helix Emerald out of his pocket, and, as the powerful wizard lifted the glittering magical gem in front of his face, he smiled. "…In the end, of course, Requiem is just a sideshow, and I'm far more eager to move the main show along.

"I can see the defenses of the Dragon Helix Emeralds are genuine; the barrier that is keeping me out of its true power is quite formidable—but it's not going to stop me for long! In any case —if you even survived my wrath in Krovada, Requiem— I do hope the realization of how hollow your pathetic concepts of justice are turns out to be quite the …agonizing… revelation!"

While Alec prepared his next attempt at cracking the magical defenses of the Dragon Helix Emerald, Richard and the others were forwarding their own ambitions.

---

It won't be much longer now… Richard didn't know whether to be nervous or excited, but it probably wouldn't hurt to be a little of both. He had found a good hiding spot in the building Voltaire had gotten for them, one not too far from the reservoir where the Ravens had shut down the mob's weapon smuggling operation: a discarded discotheque that had been abandoned decades ago, and condemned not just a little while ago.

Voltaire had managed to sell the idea that he was looking to refurbish it as potential office space if the damage wasn't too bad, and word had been passed out on the streets to be there tonight if one was interested in joining the Crimson Tengu Ravens.

It seemed likely that Dan's group was as well-versed on how to both get a rumor out as well as keep it to right people as they had claimed, so he had let them handle it. After that, it was mostly a matter of setting up shop here. Dan and Troy were loitering out front as the main guard; the rest of the Ravens were scattered throughout the various entrances and openings, making sure no one could spy or try an ambush.

As an additional precaution —one which Richard found a little unsettling, but which would also ensure only people who were genuine about this would be there— all newcomers were to strip before coming in; no clothing; no weapons; no belongings whatsoever.

As awkward of a rule as it might be, Richard and the others figured that, if the newcomers couldn't control themselves in such a state, it was an early way to show they did not have enough discipline to join, and the ones only casually interested would also be filtered out.

By the time Richard was able to watch them coming into the building, the various men and women looked more than embarrassed, but he also knew they couldn't pull anything on him, not least of all a spell—just about every mage on Marvados needed their wand to do anything, even the simplest of spells.

He also noticed most of them were forcing themselves to be bold even though they were naked, taking the rule in stride. A lot of them had gang tattoos, most of them ones Richard wasn't familiar with in addition to those of the Hydras and Hounds that had come.

Richard surveyed the group one more time as he prepared himself. So, other gangs' members want in, but some civilians do, too. I suppose we really are making waves….

"Claire," he whispered into his Codec, concealed under a fresh suit of armor.

The old suit destroyed, he had had a bit of trouble finding one similar to it, but fortunately Voltaire's family had an extra in their collection…although he had (somewhat nervously) told him to be more careful with this one, it being another antique. At any rate, with Greymont covering it, it had been shaped into his old one's form, and felt almost as comfortable as the first.

"Yup?"

"Pick up any odd frequencies in the area?"

"Nope, everything seems normal; even the stuff they dumped out front seems clean."

Richard exhaled: Time to try recruiting…again. It didn't feel any easier than last time. As the last of the people filed into the room and Dan and Troy entered, shutting the doors behind them, Richard flicked his eyes over to Voltaire.

The red-haired man was at the front of the room, masked as well —and this time covering up his signature haircut to make himself a little less identifiable— and using the fact that his eyes were hidden to periodically glance over to Richard.

On doing so this time, he saw Richard nod. Without commenting back, he looked at the newcomers. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen."

In moments, any muttering had ceased, and all of them looked to him. For a moment, there was silence, before one of the ones bearing a Hydra Wyvern tattoo spoke up. "Are you Requiem?"

"Oh, I'm flattered," Voltaire answered. "And here I thought my new aerobic program wasn't giving me enough muscle…. No, my good man, I'm afraid I'm just the scout. Here's the man of the hour."

Recognizing his cue, Richard exhaled. The theatrics had seemed a bit much when he'd first started rehearsals, but he'd realized by now that, when coupled with his actual behavior on the battlefield, it made him appear as being far more powerful than he was—and he needed to give that impression of being an unkillable superhuman more than ever…especially now that some of his foes knew he was quite mortal.

With that in mind, he braced his feet against the wall, and used Greymont's strength to launch himself off of it, seeming to nearly form out of the shadows, sail through the air, and land right before Voltaire, at one end of the main dance floor, as soon as his friend had stepped back.

The sounds his armor made as it clinked against the flooring was of just the right quality to sound impressive, and he purposely paused, hunched over for a moment after landing, before slowly drawing himself up. His red lenses flicked out over the crowd.

Not a bad reaction…. Most were rather stunned by how he had appeared to nearly come out of a shadow, or the fact that he had been in there the whole time. He caught one person in the back whispering to another, "he's really real!" while the closest ones instinctively took a step back.

Once he was fully upright, Richard stood tall and let his persona and appearance sink in a bit. His helmet slowly rotated around, his red lenses going over each and every individual.

When he felt it had sunk in enough, he spoke in his cold, metallic, Greymont-granted voice.
"So, you all want to join the Crimson Tengu Ravens…or at least, you say you do. I hope that's true; if you're here for any other reason, you'll regret it very soon." he began. "I see many of you are from various gangs in various parts of this city. Why forsake them to join my order?"

That seemed to catch most of the crowd off-guard. Some looked to each other; others stared, seeming to think about what would be the right answer, assuming this was some sort of test. Others were still shocked that Requiem was even real.

Finally, one guy yelled out from the back of the room, "We came here because you're the real deal, man—why else?"

"You made the Wong brothers look like a joke!" another shouted, this one bearing Hydra Wyverns tattoos. "Word is, you guys actually tangled with the Ibis Corps and lived to talk about it! You guys are the best in town! Anyone wants to go anyplace, it's with you!"

A few murmurs of agreement came from the rest of the room, several others nodding. Requiem crossed his arms. "And just where is it that you desire to go?"

This was another question that caught them off-guard. The former Hydra Wyvern had no immediate answer; nor did any of the other prospects.

"If you're looking for greater wealth and fame, and the ability to throw your weight around wherever and whenever you want, you're looking in the wrong spot," Requiem stated flatly. "I think I made it quite clear that this order isn't about committing petty heists and amassing wealth when I encountered some of you before." He looked up. "This is about justice; no more, no doesn't matter what gang or criminal organization they're in, nor at what they cause innocent people to suffer, then we'll punish them. It doesn't matter if they're the common criminal who beats up people on the street to take their money, or if they're the Mobster watching all of their operations bringing in a sizeable profit day in and day out while they put on a front of respect, or even if they're a so-called officer of the law who thinks their status or reputation somehow permits them to treat civilians like livestock. I have no regard for race, title, or wealth. If they cause people to suffer, they answer to us."

"Wait, wait," a blond-haired woman in the center interjected, "…let me get this straight: you're not just after busting up gangs in this town—you actually want to go after anyone that's evil, anywhere." She paused. "Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?"

"I prefer to think of our creed as ambitious," Richard answered. "That's also why we stick to the shadows. As big as our goals are, and as far as we have to go, I will accept nothing less. I refuse to live in the world as it is now." He looked up again.

"I'm saying this so that you all know what you're getting into: this is a relentless battle that won't stop until all who sin are gone.

"To join is to become a warrior that owes undivided, unquestioning allegiance, not to groups or nations, but to justice itself; to fight under a flag that has no restrictions on its dominion, unconfined to Aurino, Rakthia, or Jiodisa. And your enemy being not flesh and bone, but society itself."

Dan and Troy raised their brows at that: this was even heavier than the last time they had heard Requiem make a speech. Even Voltaire gave Richard a look while cupping a hand over his mouth, considering faking a cough as a hint for his friend to tone it down.

As the prospects stared, though, some of them going from merely confused to actually uncomfortable, Requiem only went on. "The times themselves are the greatest enemy—they breed a world of corruption and sin. Any one criminal or psychopath would be manageable —or two, or a dozen, or a hundred— but the reason they exist and continue to thrive is that this world is twisted. It encourages and rewards evil, and punishes those who wish to live justly and peacefully.

"It empowers the sinners, and strips the saints of any voice or dignity. Worst of all, it has given rise to a corrupt and perverse generation that has the audacity to proclaim evil, bloodlust, savagery, and all manner of sins to be the natural order—to be the logical evolutionary conclusion of civilization.

"I reject that world—and I will reject, and if necessary slay, all those who embrace it.

"I intend to rebalance the scales of this world's morality. I will not stop until I have purged this world of its current sinners, and, if I am unable to rid it of evil entirely, then I shall craft a new society, where all who practice evil will cower and hide in the shadows, as my order underneath me does currently."

Silence reigned throughout the room. The other people seemed more uncomfortable than ever, including those who were already members of the Crimson Tengu Ravens.
"I don't blame you all for what's running through your heads right now; you need not say a word," Richard went on. "It's clear in your eyes what you're thinking: this man is insane. Of course you are—that's what you've all been bred and trained to believe, after all.

"By every aspect of this world, from your parents, to your schools, to your government, to the very streets you walk down, that this is just the way things are, and they can't change. One who tries to do so is a fool at best, and a dangerous madman at worst.

"But why not try?" He held out a hand and gestured over the audience, making some of them shrink back. "Many of you were born and raised on the streets; many of you know what the world thinks of you; what society thinks of you; how they like packaging people into a neat little box and putting them a place where they won't rock the boat or do anything to disrupt the status quo.

"Of course change won't be easy—if the way things are right now didn't offer benefits to some, and if those some weren't the ones in power, then it wouldn't have gotten this far. And those people will seek your destruction, because change means death to them. To that, I say simply…" He lowered his hand. "…I would have it no other way. In war, there is no compromise; no gentle speech; no half-measures—especially not in a war of reformation!

"There are only those who stand triumphant, and those who rot in the mud. Each one of you knows exactly what it's like to feel powerless in this society. For most of you, it's why you joined gangs—but for all of you it's why you desire to make places for yourselves in this world: to have the power to change things. If you wish to change something…"

His fist clenched as he looked around again. "…then why hamstring yourselves by settling for something so small? Why content yourself with a few streets? If you wish to feel power, to feel like you can remake this world, then why be satisfied with just getting yourself a few more small opportunities? Why not shoot grander? Farther? Aim for the ultimate prize?

"Why not remake the Aurino Kingdom —remake the world— into a place where those unfortunate enough to be born weak need not crawl desperately for life under the feet of the strong? Embark on a crusade, to leave a legacy far greater than yourself or any one of us individually?"

He stood tall again. "Your life will be on the line, yes; every time—but you put your life on the line every day, whenever you take to the street. Ask yourself if you wish to risk it on some narcotics or a bit of money you could blow in a weekend, or invest it in a new world; the choice is yours."

Some of Richard's speech seemed nearly mad; some of it nearly cult-esque…and yet, in spite of all that, it also rang true with a few people. They had already seen how much of an impact this man had made in just a few weeks; his reputation was growing by the day.

Besides, there was more to it than just that. To someone young and hopeless, without expectations or drive, someone who could grant them purpose and meaning, an offer to include them in something that was greater than themselves….

"Hell, this guy is nuts…" one prospect muttered at last.

"They say you can pull off miracles," another, louder, and even a tad hopeful, called out. "Is it true you're really a dragon?"

"I don't reveal secrets to strangers," Richard answered. "You have to prove yourself to me first."

The one who had muttered grimaced a bit; he looked ready to turn and leave—but something made him hold on. Muttering again to himself, he crossed his arms and turned his head. "Just what the hell do we have to do to become a member? Because if you want my soul, my brain, or a pound of my flesh, or—"

"There's no occult process to our initiation," the armored man cut him off, "just prove you can be trusted and can be of use. Hold your own in a test of my design, and in a few tests of your character. Of greatest importance is your ability to keep a secret; once I've trusted you with mine, if I find you have shared it, I assure you that the price you pay will be great."

One guy in the back laughed. "Chill out, dude—we all know how squealing works, he said, then added, "I just got one question: there gonna be any drinks when we pass the test?"

Richard hoped that he had misheard the other man. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, does your lair or whatever have a bar?" another asked.

The armored man was completely dumbfounded, but more people looked hopeful about that question than about the others. Before he could possibly flub anything, Voltaire stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Well, as to the…liquor privileges of the order, currently we're supporting a free round when someone comes back from a successful mission, as well as an additional free round this evening to anyone who passes the test."

Immediately, there was a surge forward and a raucous chorus of cheers, the bigger ones demanding to get started with the test as soon as possible. Richard nearly recoiled in shock at how violent and passionate they had suddenly become.

He turned his eyes to one side and gave a bit of a glare to Voltaire, but that hardly mattered, since his friend couldn't see past the mask. Sighing a bit inwardly, he took a moment to recompose himself, then went to one side, drew his disguised sword, and gestured to one side, where a set of double doors leading to the second, larger dance hall stood.

"To your right is a little 'obstacle course' we have constructed for your 'pre-test'. It contains nothing lethal, but it will be more than intense enough for us to gauge your talents. I'm expecting most of you to bow out after that, and, as for those who succeed…we'll see if you truly have the resolve to become a Crimson Tengu Raven in due time."
Troy cracked his neck at this point, and began to advance.

"All right, punks, you heard the big man!" he barked, loud enough to echo through the chamber and quickly get everyone's attention. As Dan led the way, Troy added, "Get moving—let's see if you can carry your own weight!"
He then began to herd the group, his mere presence and proximity getting them to move. In no time at all, a crowd was passing through the doors. Only six or seven of them didn't go.

As soon as Dan and Troy had passed, that other group went right for the back doors again, to walk out—but that was a small number when compared to the size of the group taking the tests, and a part of Richard was glad they were weeding out some of the weaker ones already.
As they continued to move, Voltaire moved up to Richard's side. "More promising than I'd have thought, so far…."

"There's no way to really trust them for sure until we get out and into action," the masked man answered, "but it's a start, and we have to start somewhere. I'd say we're doing more than good enough if we can even get half of them to be counted on.

"Then we can start diversifying, and really expand. We still won't be able to go after the Ibis Corps yet, but we could do a lot more if we have a network of our own, especially if most of these people hold day jobs; start getting eyes and ears everywhere, weakening our opponents before we even make an appearance…I suppose even our worst enemies will have to start seeing us as a threat."

"Actually, you've already been noticed."

Richard and Voltaire both turned their heads to the right: while most of the new recruits had gone in and the last few were leaving, one other individual not of their order had apparently walked in, and, without Dan or Troy to watch the front, he hadn't been stripped like the others.

He was in a business suit, albeit a relatively cheap one, with a fresh haircut, and his look was fairly casual—definitely not looking as serious or nervous as the others. Without any visible fear, he strolled right up to them.

Richard's eyes narrowed. "If you wish to join, you're late—and you're also not dressed properly."

"I left my coat on because I'm not here to join," the man answered as he came to a stop near the stage. Immediately, he pivoted a bit and stared off to one side, scratching at his lips a bit before opening his jacket. "Just came here to deliver a message."

Hearing that, and the way it was said, Richard's hand began to shift towards his hip. Voltaire stretched, simultaneously raising his hand, ready to make a magical sign.

"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," the man added, still not looking at them, as he casually fishing out a pack of cigarettes and beginning to tap on the pack. "I can see you're a busy guy; I'll make this short and sweet.

"You and your boys are proving to be quite the interesting 'new kids on the block'. You're getting noticed by a lot of people, including my boss. In fact, he'd like to talk to you personally—has some possible business discussions."

Voltaire paused for only a moment, then dropped the stretching pretense altogether and made the symbol. A moment later, his crossbow popped into existence midair, and he immediately snatched it, though he did no more. "Well, it just so happens that we can't spare anyone at the moment for any face-to-face conferences—maybe if you check back next quarter?"

The man remained casual as he continued pulling out a cigarette. "You should think hard before you turn this down; the Diamond Don doesn't like it when he frees up his schedule to make an offer, only to get stood up."

Voltaire nearly dropped his crossbow on hearing that; Richard himself had a rather hard time holding his position. He'd figured, seeing this guy, that there would be some sort of veiled threat from someone higher up, but this? It looked like they were rising even higher than they had anticipated; they had actually gotten the attention of the biggest crime lord in town already.

"Is this some sort of ambush?" he asked darkly.

"A'course not," the man answered as he put the cigarette between his lips, going for his lighter next…but also stepping back from the tone of voice Requiem had used. "Just an invitation. The Don isn't interested in confronting you guys; not yet. You want to keep it that way, I suggest you show up."

"All right, assuming this isn't a sting," Voltaire spoke up again, composing himself enough to get a good grip on his crossbow again, "why does he want to talk to us?"

The messenger's grin returned as he replied, "Sorry, man, I'm not privileged enough to know—just in case you tried to break it out of me, you know? If you want to know, meet the Don at the top of Diamond Tower tomorrow night, right at midnight.

"Trust me: it would be in your best interests to show up. You can bring as many guys as you want, if that makes you feel safer. That's all I have to say, so I'm going to split. Oh—just so you know, if I don't show up at home in half an hour, the cops just might swarm the place. Just sayin'!"

Richard frowned beneath his helmet, but let the man go. In spite of the attitude, he believed the man about knowing nothing more—and besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to waste time and energy getting in a fight with him. In a few moments, the man had walked back to the doors, opened them, given one last puff of smoke into the room, and then exited.

Only when the doors had shut again did Richard remove his hand from his hilt. "So much for having the area secure. Tsk—we aren't using this location, after tonight. Well, Jade Hawk, just what do you think the chances are of this not being a trap?"

Voltaire sighed. "Well, if they wanted to try and take us out, and they knew we were here, it doesn't make sense for them not to take the opening unless he really does want to meet us. Also, since that guy could sneak in without being detected, he must have been a professional.

"I really can't grasp why the God-father of all organized crime in Los Midas, if not the entire region of the Aurino Republic, would want an order that's dedicated to taking out criminals would not want to make a move, but, even if it is some trap, not showing up might be worse. We just got called to a meeting with the Don—ever heard of an offer you can't refuse?"

Richard sighed heavily, thinking things over. "Good grief—as if we didn't have enough to worry about! Ugh…. Let's just deal with the recruits first; hopefully we can at least end this night decently enough."

Surreptitiously making sure no one else had infiltrated the area, Richard and Voltaire went to see how their prospects were doing, still wondering if the sudden invitation from the Diamond Don was the beginning of yet another wave of problems.