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Daccia

Ifeel naked without my weapon.

No, that’s not quite true.

I don’t feel naked, or defenseless – I know with my hands alone, I could break the backs of a dozen human men.

Instead, I feel the lure of thought before feeling – of self-doubt – which I must never let materialize inside my mind. At times like these, even a shred of doubt could poison my aura – and all three of those I share it with would sense it.

No, I must remain stoic. I am a rock for the three people I am Bonded with – who I am responsible for. My triad has grown to encompass four now, and I will continue to lead them.

I follow the greasy little sleaze-ball, Giovanni, back into the elevator. The small man is nearly drooling in anticipation at the thought of bringing what he believes to be three high-rolling investors to his master. The host slicks back his hair back as we enter the elevator, and I cansmellhis nervousness. It’s a rank stench on his already unpleasant scent.

Giovanni takes us back to the top floor, and then scans a card that grants access to an even higher level – parallel to the towering glass ceiling high above the landing bay.

I remember the little man using that card – logging the information away in case we ever need to take that access card from his body.

The elevator doors open – revealing a hallway lined with a thick, purple carpet.

Two burly guards in suits stand there, with guns at their hips. They try to look intimidating – but even without our Orb-Weapons, I know my triad could get to those guards and disarm them before they could even draw their weapons.

No, they aren’t the threat. The two high-powered rifle barrels, mounted to swivels hanging from the ceiling, are a different story. They’re pointing straight at us. The guards we could quickly overpower. The rifles would cut us down before we got halfway to them, however.

“Right this way.” Giovanni leads us forward, and I sense his nervousness increases. This Mr. Torelli character can’t be an easy boss to work for – not by the way Giovanni’s anxiety is increasing with every step he takes towards the thick, wooden door at the end of the hallway.

We finally reach it. Giovanni opens the door, revealing a huge room with a big, wooden desk in the center of it.

Behind the desk sits an Aurelian, just like us.

So, this is Mr. Torelli.

The Aurelian is older than me – deep into middle age, and at least fifteen-hundred-years-old. He’s let his body degrade over the centuries – growing corpulent and weak. I keep my sense of disgust inside.

“Mr. Torelli, I assume.”

The Aurelian stands. He has dead-looking eyes, even for the usual slate-grey of our species. His out-of-shape bulk is clad in a fine suit.

“Good detective work,” the owner of the club nobs. “I take it that’s what you are, then? Detectives?”

He’s not exactly subtle.

I laugh coldly. “Yeah. I’m looking to buy girls because I’m an Aurelian Law Enforcement agent.”

Now he’s standing, I can clearly see Torelli’s huge, paunch belly – straining against his dress shirt. A thick gold chain dangles from his thick neck. I want to reach forward, grab it, and choke this crime boss out with it.

Instead, when Torelli extends his fleshy hand, I shake it.

“You know what they say about an Aurelian without a triad?” I look Torelli straight in his cold, dead eyes through the tint of my goggles.

“I do,” he nods. “That he didn’t protect his triad – and that’s true.” Then the man snorts. “Ididn’tprotect my triad. I killed them myself. They were too loyal to the Empire, and I was too loyal to gold.”

My muscles tense up beneath the material of my suit – but I force myself to stay calm.

Behind me, the auras of Kitos and Hadrian flare with fiery anger. They’re already ready to kill this man.

Torelli laughs, apparently delighting in our discomfort. His eyes are still – like the cold, dead stares of Scorp when they come charging for you.