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Chapter Text

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Law Firm of Campeggio, Schmidt & Lewiston
Washington, D.C. Office
Monday, February 27, 2012
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It was early in the morning yet the building was already active. The office was located in the very heart of Washington. It was only a few doors away from the White House and the Eisenhower Executive building while the Embassy of the Republic of Palau was across the street. Edmond Campeggio stared through his well dressed reflection in the window to the crowded Pennsylvania Avenue below. He made a note to tell his assistant to summon his driver a few minutes early as his business took him to the far end of the famous street.

Today, he spoke not before a judge or panel of the judiciary, but before something far more important. Today he would speak before a special joint session of the United States Congress. In truth, it was something more amazing; the first ever Special Joint Inquiry of Congress. The entire legislative branch was making an effort to do something that was often attempted but rarely accomplished in the early twenty-first century; bring the law up to date with the times. Rather than squabbling over arcane rulings or campaign regulations, however, today the august body would begin to debate the drafting of laws covering the Manifested.

He had stayed the night in the office as he often did when working on major cases. He knew today would be a busy day. He had slept in a recently installed private bedroom with a small attached bathroom. He had awoken early and showered and then selected one of the many sharp tailor made suits he kept in the office for these occasions. It would not do to go the the Capitol Building looking like an overworked legal assistant. Appearances, he knew, counted for much in this town and Edmond Campeggio always prided himself on his appearance.

Campeggio turned to regard the other named partners; both of whom were in attendance. Shirley Schmidt and Paul Lewiston had arrived to show their support. Alan Shore and senior partner Jerry Espenson completed the inner circle Campeggio had crafted. Together, these five people planned the firm's most important actions, with occasional advice from a friend who was not in attendance. Campeggio looked up, noting his conspicuous absence.

“Where’s Denny?” He asked.

“Oh, he’s already out there. He’s checking in with the power players on Capitol Hill,” Alan said cheerfully.

“Committee chairs?” Shirley asked.

Alan snorted. “Come now, Shirley, hardly. He’s with the richest lobbyists.”

“Denny has made politics his passion since he decided not to return to the courtroom. We can trust him to know who best to butter up,” Campeggio said, recognizing Shirley’s frown.

“Shouldn’t we go back over the briefing I made you? Remember, most of the rules of Congress are not written. They’re established by tradition that’s so strong they might as well work like laws, however, in some ways, there is less room for wriggle. You’ll have to be mindful of attempts to derail your points when you're being questioned,” Jerry said nervously.

“Relax, Jerry. We’ll go over the ‘Cliff Notes’ you made of congressional etiquette after I eat,” Campeggio said soothingly. He hadn’t seen Jerry this nervous in months.

Shirley was also nervous and gave voice to her concerns. “The Senate knows there is deep dissatisfaction with things as they stand. The original problems were blamed on the outgoing administration. Our current president has vocally supported their cause, but has done little of substance to aid them. The regulations continue to pile up. The Manifested themselves are different and powerful which makes them objects of fear. Elected officials want to appear to be assuaging the average voter's fears, so they take groundless action.”

“I’m more concerned with the turn in public opinion,” Alan chimed in. “Everyone was on their side when they were outcasts, hunted by the government. Four years is a bit quick for such a vehemently boisterous call for change without someone driving it.”

“What bothers me is how smooth things have been going so far despite the calls for action,” Paul said. “Nothing illegal or devious or even politically hard lined has been pulled since the class action win. I can only say it feels like the calm before the storm. I’d say you’re bound to encounter some sort of trickery, and it’s likely dirty, Ed. You’d better watch yourself.”

Shirley’s cell rang and she stepped to a corner to take itl while Campeggio mulled over Paul’s words. A knock at the door broke the tension. A staffer entered with Campeggio’s breakfast. He nodded politely and thanked the man as he exited before moving to the table where the food had been left.

“I agree with you, Paul. It’s been too quiet for the last few months and that spells trouble. The opponents of Manifested freedom have never been this quiet. Their puppets are usually on every talk show or news program that will take them. I think you’re right. They’re up to something,” Campeggio said while sitting down and taking a look under his covered dishes.

“I wish you’d stop making all of this sound like a grand conspiracy. Our ‘adversaries’ are the natural fear and predaceous inclinations common to all small minded and petty people,” Shirley said as she put down the phone.

Paul just gave a grunted laugh of acquisition. He had been in the game too long and studied too much case law from the time of prohibition and the mob to hand wave away the similarities of events. While not convinced, he was wary of the possibility of puppet masters.

Campeggio gave her a shrug. He had no wish to reopen an old argument they had both agreed to table for the time being. He had made his feelings well known: he thought the normally worldly Shirley was being naive. She, conversely, had made plain her opinion that paranoia had begun to take hold of his senses. But the conversation with the former owners of the firm had cast shadows in his mind he could not shake.

“This French toast looks far too good to let get cold,” Campeggio said diplomatically, changing the subject.

“I suppose you’d better eat. The front desk said Kai and Terra Silbern are here and are on their way up. I’ll go check on them,” Shirley said as she stepped out.

“I’ll go check the motor pool and our junior partners,” Paul said, following Shirley out of the room.

“I’m going to see if security found anything worrying,” Jerry said, still agitated. Campeggio thought he heard a nervous ‘pop’ escape Jerry’s lips as he left the room.

“And I’m going to steal a piece of bacon then quickly retreat,” Alan said with a mischievous smile as he quickly snatched a piece of bacon off his plate and popped it in his mouth.

Campeggio gave him a withering stare which only made Alan’s eyes sparkle with mirth before he turned and exited the room. Edmond despised anyone disturbing his food. A fact Alan had discovered and often used to aggravate his normally unflappable boss. Everyone at the firm knew Campeggio’s proclivity. Meals were his sanctuary. He did not allow business or distressing matters to be discussed while he ate. Trivial conversation and light personal matters were the only topics he would entertain.

Having no one to share trivialities with, he thought about his own personal life. His mother, a professional dancer, had traveled to Italy the day before to attend a workshop. She had been excited at the luminaries of dance who would attend. Glancing at the time, he wondered how her flight had gone.

He set down his now drained long stem glass of orange juice when something caught his eye. He noticed a distorted, but obviously humanoid, shape behind him reflected in the crystal of the glass. As he had been the subject of a kidnapping attempt in the past, he wasted no time with panic. Determined to catch whoever it was off guard, he grasped the matching pitcher of juice and whirled, tossing the expensive crystal at his opponent’s head.

The stranger wasted no time deflecting the pitcher, but it did cover its mirror tinted visor with an arm to ward off the sticky juice. The crystal had shattered on impact. Its contents cascaded harmlessly down what appeared to be some high tech, sci-fi looking metallic armor with an odd chromatic sheen to it.

Tossing his confusion of the invader’s appearance aside in the breadth of a heartbeat, Campeggio dove for his desk and the firearm contained within but his opponent moved shockingly fast. The young lawyer felt a hand roughly snatch his long hair before he could make it to his desk followed by the bite of a needle in his neck. His heart gave a thunderous hammer in his chest and then it seemed as time slowed to a stop.

He felt a rising pressure all around him. It was as if a wind was howling in his ears next to his racing heart. He thought for certain he was dying. He found himself not afraid of death, but angry. Angry that this attacker and those who gave him aid and abetted him would likely not see justice. Angry at the way this shadow world he had been warned about sought to circumvent the law and ignore the order so carefully crafted by great philosophers and intelligent litigators. Finally, he was angry at the darkness that would come to take him before he could carry out retribution. But rather than sinking into darkness, Edmond Campeggio’s world suddenly exploded with light as time resumed. Purples tinged with blues along with silver and gold light streaked out from his form. The light coalesced into a blueish indigo dragon with silver claws and teeth. Its eyes seemed to shine with the brilliance of the sun. It opened its mouth with a silent roar. Visible within its gullet was the glow of the moon’s glimmering light as the beast swam in a starry sky.

Suddenly invigorated beyond measure, Campeggio’s hand rapidly struck upwards smacking the armored assassin’s arm up and away. The wrist mounted needle came out of Campeggio’s neck as the attacker's hand flew awry. The armor-clad stranger quickly recovered from the surprise and shoved a knee Campeggio in back. Rage helped block the pain and keep him on his feet but Campeggio was still unable to escape the grip on his hair. He twisted to face his would-be assassin and grabbed its arm trying to free himself, but with a quick counter of a leg sweep Campeggio fell backward to the floor. His foe, still holding tightly to his hair, didn’t fight the momentum and landed hard on Campeggio’s stomach. In the crash, both fighters lost their grips. They rolled on the floor, each seeking an advantage. Campeggio was no grappler, however, and his opponent had a longer reach which it used to its advantage finding purchase atop the young lawyer and readied its injection needle again. With a short jet of liquid to ensure the device wasn’t jammed, the stranger grabbed Campeggio’s neck and held it to the floor as the needle tried to find it’s mark while the lawyer thrashed around.

Desperation flooded Campeggio. One thought raced through his mind: If I only had a weapon!

His prayer was answered. The aura around him provided and coalesced into a large pistol which formed into one of his outstretched hands as he attempted to fight off the assassin. The weapon, which despite looking to be made of light, felt very solid and real.

Campeggio pointed the miraculous gun directly to the visor of his armored foe and pulled the trigger. With a gold explosion and thunderous crack, the armored assassin was blown back. Campeggio wasted no time scrambling to his feet, coughing and choking as he tried to catch his breath, but he saw his attacker was not defeated. As the assassin rose to one knee, Campeggio unloaded round after round into it. The bullets, which were made of the same solid light as the weapon, were followed by faint contrails of energy, and each blast was punctuated by a roaring explosion that shook his foe as if it was being struck by a hammer. Only one shot missed its target which dramatically blew out the window behind the assassin and the icy wind from the Washington winter poured into the room.

Despite the effects of the shots, his opponent rose to his feet and, with a speed that was superhuman, closed in to grab Campeggio. Edmond threw himself to the side to avoid the grapple but his quick mind noticed his attacks had cracked the visor on one side, turning it into a spiderweb of barely connected fragments, a few of which were missing. He saw through one of the missing fragments and managed to make out a very human eye. As the attacker turned and sped toward him again. Campeggio cleared his mind and fired a carefully aimed shot into the center of the weakness.

The visor splintered and the assassin's head snapped back. It fell backward to the floor with a heavy thud. The lawyer carefully closed and fired two more rounds into his attacker's skull. Campeggio stood, completely rigid. His mind was trying to catch up with the action that had taken place within just a few moments and with the sudden change that had come over him.

The door exploded open with a bang. The gigantic form of Kai stormed into the room. Well over seven feet tall, massively muscled and almost impossibly wide at the shoulder, Kai exuded an aura of calm despite the chaos around him. He wore a suit cut in the European style. Despite being custom made by expert tailors, Kai’s muscular bulk made him look somewhat awkward in such clothes. His now very long white hair was bound in a simple ponytail. Had his suit been less expensive, he would have looked like the hired muscle for a mobster. He gave the room a quick, yet thorough check as he approached Campeggio and the limp form of his opponent. He eyed the aura of light that enveloped the lawyer warily.

“Terra! We need you!” Kai bellowed, his deep voice cutting through Campeggio’s internal fog.

Terra heeded the call. She was dressed in a tasteful skirt that was cut for her generous curves. Her long, curly brown hair was swept into a high ponytail and held in place with a few golden adornments that complimented the natural tropical flowers that grew in her hair. She dashed into the room, her eyes widening at the display within. With nothing but the briefest hesitation, she rushed over and knelt down, her eyes squinting from the bright aura. “Edmond! Are you hurt?”

“Bruised, strained, and there’s a laceration in my neck where it shot me with a hypodermic needle-like weapon. I’m hyper stimulated. My heart is hammering and my mind’s racing. I can't seem to calm down. I’m having strange sensations...memories...not my own, either that or hallucinations. They’re all over the place: battles, wars, peace and trade negotiations, inhuman creatures, fantastic impossible places….” Campeggio said, his voice came at a rapid and hyperactive pace. His eyes roamed the room in panic even though he stood stock still.

Terra looked down at the drops of fluid where the thing on the floor had expressed some of its payload. She ran her hand across the carpet and a few dark green sparks of energy emanated from her fingertips. “Some form of artificial adrenaline, I think. I can purge its effects.”

“Yes, please. I need to be able to focus,” Campeggio said, his voice still elevated and rapid. He felt Terra’s soft hands on his face as they traveled down to the wound on his neck. He could smell the pleasing aroma that cloaked the beautiful woman. She always had a sensual air about her, and this close it was almost overpowering. He felt his heart begin to slow as she tended to his wounds and the weapon of light disappeared from his hand. Terra’s bright green aura pulsed as she purged the toxins from Campeggio’s body. Turning, he looked at the door where Shirley, Paul, Alan and Jerry were starring in a state of mixed shock, horror and wonder.

“Come in. Close the door,” Campeggio told them.

Paul spoke first. “This isn't like any recorded Manifestation. Are you sure this is safe, Ed?”

“Exaltation,” Campeggio said simply.

Paul blinked. “What?”

“Our state is called Exaltation. Mine is Solar Exaltation, Eclipse Caste. There are four others: Dawn, Zenith, Twilight and Night. The Elemental Exalted, the Dragon-Blooded, come in five aspects: Earth, Wood, Fire, Water, and Air. The Lunar Exalted come in...”

“Hold still!” Terra ordered firmly, cutting him off. “I need you to relax and breathe.” She took a flashlight from her bag and was examining his pupils.

Campeggio nodded as the group outside the door quickly made their way inside and shut the door. His breathing became more regular, and his eyes relaxed. With some effort he made his way to the table and stiffly sat down.

Alan Shore spoke up. “We have an emergency to deal with. We have to make a plan to keep this quiet.”

“Why keep it quiet?” Paul asked.

“Oh, I'm sure the spokesman and lawyer for the Manifested suddenly awash with a never before seen form of manifestation or exaltation or whatever you call it won't be at all prejudicial or panic inducing,” Alan quipped.

“There were shots fired in here. This isn’t the Boston Office where everyone would assume it's Denny. This is D.C. and I’m sure someone has called the police,” Shirley said.

“This,” Terra said, gesturing to the whirl of power around Campeggio, “will likely take fifteen to twenty minutes to subside if it is like our own auras. Can you stall the police for that long?”

“Paul, go stall them. Jerry, help him. Find any means. Do not let them up here. We have to make up a cover story,” Campeggio said.

Both took off slipping out the door. Terra continued to tend to Campeggio’s injuries. “Should I heal these or leave them?”

“Leave them. We’ll admit to an attack. It will be easier and make us more sympathetic,” Campeggio said

Shirley tipped her head towards Campeggio’s intruder. “What about the body?”

“What about it? He might be odd looking, but he did attack me. He's evidence,” Campeggio said.

“You seemed to not have noticed, but while Terra was working on you the gun made of light vanished. That is going to be sort of hard to explain away,” Alan noted.

“You have another problem. This man is deflating,” Kai said.

Shirley whirled around. “Deflating?”

“Like a balloon,” Kai said curiously. He looked almost amused as he cocked his head to the side watching the scene play out.

Terra ceased her treatment of Campeggio and began examining the being on the floor. She looked up, puzzled. “The armor is contracting. It seems to be consuming the occupant's body. I’m also not sure ‘occupant’ is the right term. This armor seems to be fused or integrated into him.”

Edmond stood and walked over to his condensing attacker. He stooped and tapped the jewel in the middle of the creature’s forehead-helm. “This is placed like my own caste mark. It glows with light as well. Could he be some sort of artificial exalted? If so, perhaps another can wield its power. I’m fairly sure the odd memories are from other holders of my exaltation.”

“If you die your power seeks a new host?” Kai asked.

“I believe so, yes. I don’t think yours does. I seem to recall the Dragon-Blooded have families and clans. I suppose recall is the correct word. It’s all a whirl in my mind,” Campeggio said in a surprisingly calm manner.

“That matches with what we and a few others have theorized. Summer Rain was born with similar markings to a fire Manifested. We assumed she might one day Manifest,” Terra said in a distracted, matter-of-fact tone as she began to read Campeggio’s vital signs again.

“You mean there have been manifested, er exalted before?” Kai asked.

“Yes...well, I’m not sure,” Campeggio admitted. “Like I said, it’s all a blur right now.”

Meanwhile, the process of the mechanical assassin’s self consumption was speeding up. When it reached the size of a hockey puck, it stopped. The only trace of the being was a small disk. It was made of a strange metal with a rainbow sheen that occasionally refracted across its surface with a glowing oval jewel in the middle.

“Well, you don't see that every day,” Alan said jovially.

“No, not every day,” Kai said, unimpressed.

Shirley eyed them both. Her eyes seemed to question their sanity. “What story do we say happened now?” She asked no one in particular.

“The assassin went out the window after attacking. We didn't see what happened after that. We have no idea where it went. He was gone when you came in and I was too disoriented to check,” Campeggio said.

Terra picked up the small disk with a cloth and searched through her bag for a large enough container to hold the device. Shirley stepped closer, reaching out to help hold the bag open. When Shirley came close filaments shot out of the seemingly solid puck of metal and flexed like the legs of a spider. They snapped in Shirley's direction, reaching out for her.

Shirley recoiled in shock. “What is it doing!?”

Terra pulled the now spider legged disc back. She held it tightly, shocked at its sudden activity. Removed from Shirley’s presence the legs stopped their furious grasping.

“It didn’t react that way to Kai, Edmond or myself,” Terra noted.

“Maybe it needs a new host and doesn’t find any of you too appealing as you already have some sort of power. You know, looking for an easy target and all that so it might continue its mission,” Alan said, speculating.

“We could test that theory. Just have Mr. Shore step closer,” Kai said, smirking.

“I, for one, am not fond of that idea,” Alan said coolly.

“Let’s see if it works. Terra can get a good grip on it. You’ll be fine, Alan, and if it doesn’t work, maybe you’ll gain fantastic cosmic power or something,” Campeggio said brightly.

“This is a horrible idea. I better be getting hazard pay for this,” Alan said, reluctantly stepping forward.

This time, the device not only tried to grab at Alan, it stabbed Terra in the wrist as it scrambled to get free. Terra gritted her teeth and grabbed the disk with her other hand, quickly retreating from Alan's presence.

“Are you alright?” Kai asked, his huge form storming over to Terra’s side in a protective gesture. He glared at the small disk in her hand.

“It’s just a small cut. Give me that case in my bag so I can get this thing stowed away and tend to this cut,” Terra said.

Kai grabbed the requested case. “This is made of Elemental Jade. It should stand up to whatever that damn hockey puck tosses at it,” he said as he clenched the device in his iron grip. He placed it in the case while Terra flushed her wound and focused her healing power into it.

Shirley checked her phone. “Paul says they’re having a hard time down there keeping the police out. They need a distraction.”

Kai looked up from watching Terra treat her cut. “If you are fine, my love, I will go distract the police.”

“Don’t get in too much trouble.” Terra said, doubt creeping into her voice.

“I will not kill anyone, if you are worried about that. Just some property damage. Nothing Campeggio cannot afford to replace,” Kai said with a smile.

“Good. We only need five to ten more minutes,” Terra said, eyeing the light coming from Campeggio’s aura.

Chapter Text

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Law Firm of Campeggio, Schmidt & Lewiston,
Washington, D.C. Office
Monday, February 27, 2012
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Paul Lewiston knew the situation was rapidly spinning out of control. He had attempted to stall the police with tales of Denny Crane’s misadventures with firearms at the Boston Office, hoping to convince the officers present that Mr. Crane was the one responsible for the shots fired in the building this morning. It was not working.

Denny’s lust for the spotlight had worked against Paul. At the time of the incident he was giving an interview on television. As such, the police were well aware of Denny Crane’s whereabouts. The officer in charge had all but accused Paul of interfering in police business. Jerry Espenson had attempted to help in his own unique way. He tried to impress the police with some arcane legal mumbo jumbo about attorney client privileges. When the officers began yelling, however, Jerry's nerve broke and, for the first time in over a year, he had broken down into chirps and hops, a symptom of his Asperger’s Syndrome. He had been reduced to cowering at the edge of the crowd trying desperately not to look anyone in the eye.

Jerry’s efforts were not completely in vain. His distraction had given Paul time to fire off a quick text to Shirley. Perhaps, he hoped, she could come up with a second barrier of delay.

Paul decided to try again. Even if Shirley came up with something, he reasoned, she would need time to set it up. Ed had used his pull with the Manifested to get Paul's daughter, Rachael, signed up for an experimental addiction treatment. It had worked wonders for helping her put her life back together. What was a night in jail compared to that?

“Please, officers, I simply can’t allow you to go upstairs until we are sure all of Mr. Campeggio’s papers and notes regarding the Manifested are secured away. Our client’s confidentiality must be our primary concern,” Paul said, hoping the desperation in his voice passed for passion. He then braced himself In the doorway that led to the elevators.

“You are blatantly interfering in police business! Stand aside or I will have you taken into custody,” the detective ordered.

Paul hoped the police would be gentle for what he knew would come next. He was uncomfortably reminded of how his stance seemed to mirror that of Alabama Governor George Wallace in the 1960s. He was confident, however, that he served a much higher purpose than Wallace. He struck his most defiant pose and closed his eyes. “I will not be moved!”

A soft muffled chime from behind the door heralded the end of Paul Lewiston’s defiant streak. The door behind him burst open revealing the hall that led to the elevators.

The massive frame of Kai came barreling out of the hall, bodily plowing through everyone. “Hurry! It is getting away!” he bellowed as he dashed past them and out the front doors.

The stunned detective pulled himself up from the ground where the Austrian behemoth had knocked him prone. “What the hell was that!?” He looked at the officer on his right who was helping another to his feet. “You! Stay here with me! The rest of you go after him,” he ordered, directing all but one officer to chase the fleeing Austrian.

Almost as an afterthought, he called out to the men charging out the door and onto the street. “Remember! Be careful and use restraint!” The last thing this city needed was another incident with one of the Manifested.

Paul sighed. They had not completely taken Kai’s bait. He could think of only one thing to do that might cause a significant delay and it was truly desperate: he could have someone set off the fire alarm. He was hesitant to do so, however, as that might give the police an excuse to use stronger measures to get inside and upstairs.

Paul was still debating when the detective in charge turned back to him. He eyed Paul darkly. “No more cute tricks or I'll have you taken in on obstruction charges. Get. Out. Of. The. Way!”

At this, Jerry reached into his pocket. Alan Shore had been the first person to show faith in him. He had helped Jerry to rely on his own strength rather than crutches. He had advanced Jerry’s cause to their new boss. For his part, Edmond Campeggio had been so impressed with his analytical abilities, he had made Jerry one of the most powerful partners at the firm.

While Jerry didn’t share the same bond with Mr. Campeggio that he had with Alan, Jerry enjoyed having someone at the firm who was nearly his equal in discussing the minutiae of the legal code. However, the pressure of working so closely with his boss and prepping for this important hearing had come close to overwhelming him. Jerry knew he should have admitted his issues and scaled back, but he so wanted to show not just his friends but himself how far he had come. He hated to disappoint Alan, but he could not fail his firm, even if it meant stepping back into a bad habit and using a crutch he had overcome.

Jerry put his wooden cigarette between his teeth, his hands in his pockets, and charged forward. “If you want to end up with your ass on a platter you just go right ahead and charge on up there! You’ve been around the block a time or two so let me fill ya in on what you’re lookin at pal! First you'll be interfering in a congressional hearing so we'll see how many senators and representatives want you on the spot for that! Then we'll have ya on interfering with privilege two different ways! You’ll be violating the sanctity of what happens between a doctor and patient as well as lawyer and client! Why don't ya go pester a priest to reveal a confession while you’re at it and you'll have the trifecta of fruit from the poisonous tree!? The jury is gonna love talking to you Adam. The name’s Adam right? Taking bites from that poisonous fruit? Even did nice by your wife and went to get it on your own. Boy howdy!” Jerry cheered. “Lastly, you're refusing to take up the chase for the attacker who injured my client!” Jerry laughed loudly and theatrically. “Go on! Go on in! I dare ya, ya pansy! I've had enough of listening to you abuse my friends and partners! You got my dander up and I need just one excuse to go at you! I'll have you in court so much your grandchildren won't ever see you!”.

The detective turned. “That’s enough out of you! Why don’t you go back to standing in the corner and gibbering to yourself,” he barked.

Jerry chuckled loudly “Sure thing, pal, I wouldn't dream of stopping you! You were warned and my warning is recorded by our security system! Nothing you see in there will be admissible in a court! We haven’t even gotten to what the tabloids and papers would do with that,” Jerry said with a predatory grin while giving another haughty chuckle.

The detective paused. Everything in D.C. got mixed up in politics...and the press. Law enforcement hated it when anyone got away with something and Campeggio had gotten away with quite a lot during the Manifested case. He had bent the law into pretzels, not to mention he had gotten off scot free for aiding fugitives from the law and trading state secrets. On top of all that, he had set up a multi-organizational stake out meant to catch him in the act of his crimes, making them look like fools. While many could forgive the Manifested themselves, few had any sympathy for the young punk of a lawyer who rode their coattails to wealth and fame.

However, if the officers he sent out allowed Kai to make a scene, something that would cause the department to be viewed unfavorably, it would come back on him. He realized his decision was already made for him. He had a feeling that he had been trapped and he hated that. He gave the officer with him a look meant to convey his suspicions. “Stay here and watch them. Once a medical team is here, follow them in.”

The detective turned and raced to catch up with the pursuing officers. He was quite amazed at how fast the large form of Kai was moving. He quickly caught up with and began to outpace the other officers. “Come on! You going to let that big lummox outpace you?”

Kai crossed 18th Street, his gigantic frame artfully dodging between cars. He entered a small park area. The small spot of green within the city was withered brown by the touch of winter. The few pedestrians he encountered were tossed aside as he barreled through. The police, slowed by the traffic, entered the park just as Kai punched the ground. He used his immense strength and Manifested powers to send a shockwave through the earth. For a brief second the ground rippled like water tossing up dust in all directions.

The lead detective stopped at the edge of the park. “Stop him! Use the tasers!”

The officers advanced. Several had their tasers out, but were cautious about escalating the situation. Most remembered the very publicized videos of Kai getting tasered by a terrified paparazzi. The incident occurred when he forcibly ejected tabloid reporters that had crashed his daughter, Summer Rain’s, first birthday party. He had not passed out, rather, he had tossed the man nearly fifty feet into a man made pond.

Kai looked back and calmly pointed through the cloud of dust toward a building. “There! The attacker is headed for that bank!”

Before Kai could move again, the police attempted to tackle him. Kai deflected their blows with a look of surprise. “Why are you assaulting me? The assailant is fleeing!”

More officers, emboldened by their quarry’s restrained reaction, joined in the assault. Had Kai been willing to unleash anything but the most glancing of blows, he’d have laid the entire force of officers arrayed against him out cold. As the situation wore on the police officers began to grow tired, angry and scared. Soon enough, one made a mistake and struck Kai with a baton. The blow was so forceful that it shattered the weapon. Kai bellowed in wounded fury and seized the offending officer, lifting him over his head.

Every policeman with a taser rushed forward. In near unison they activated their weapons. The amount of electricity was so intense that the lead detective’s hair felt like it was trying to stand on end. The Austrian giant reacted dramatically, seizing up and teetering violently. His reaction was so violent, in fact, the detective suspected he was melodramatically overacting. Kai then fell forward with a resounding thud. The detective looked at the crazed Austrian in a puzzled manner. He pressed a button on his radio and called for a containment team to pick him up for a ride to jail. Kai was so huge, he thought they would need a damn forklift to pick the man up if he could not be roused. He knew the containment team would be composed of other Manifested but, against such a powerful being, calling in Manifested of your own seemed to be the only defense.

He looked around and mentally cursed. No less than five people had recorded the event on their cellphones. He knew, from past experience, that it was too late to grab them. The video would already be uploaded and spreading virally on the Net. This, he thought, was going to be a really shitty day.

Back at the law firm, the lone officer left was thinking about how he was in a no-win situation. He had been left with instructions even his superior had been afraid to carry out. Now the Paramedics were here and he had to decide if he was going to risk his career to follow them into this law firm’s nest of vipers. He had to make up his mind quickly. The elevator had stopped and in front of him was the office of Edmond Campeggio, arguably the most infamous attorney in the world.

To his surprise, however, the doors to the office were open and Campeggio himself sat in a chair in the middle of the room. He held out his left hand so that Terra Alani’ could read his pulse.

It was Dr. Alani who spoke. “He was injected with an artificial adrenaline. I have purged its effects, but I have a contaminated blood sample as well as a sample taken from the rug that needs to be reviewed.”

Shirley Schmidt stepped up from the corner. “Please try not to contaminate the rug in your efforts to aid in Ed’s treatment. Now that his life is safe, I think the officer here would want to take charge. This is the scene of a crime after all.”

The officer nodded. “Yes, umm...what exactly happened here?”

The paramedics checked over Campeggio’s vitals and prepared to whisk him away to the hospital for further diagnostics. The police, meanwhile, took each person’s statement with a tape recorder, asking them to give an account of what they saw before coming into the room. Then, when they were assured he was stable, Campeggio did the same.

As Campeggio finished his statement, Terra answered a phone call. She then turned to Alan with a worried look on her face. “Kai is under arrest! One of the Manifested from D.C. security called to let me know! He’s just been picked up in Edward R. Murrow Park.”

Alan Shore raised his eyebrows. “Well, I suppose I should go clear up this misunderstanding. I’m sure Kai was just trying to catch Ed’s attacker.”

By the time the lead detective returned, CSI was going over the building and everyone else had left.

---***---
The Watergate Hotel
Washington, D.C.
---***---

Claus Werner looked up as John Dugan entered the room. He could tell the man was nervous. “Something wrong, John?”

Dugan adjusted the tablet he held in his hand. “Beyond wrong, sir. Unit 93 has failed to report in, Edmond Campeggio is still alive, and word of an attack on his life is starting to filter onto the web as well as mainstream media.”

Claus set down his fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. “Give me the relevant data.”

John held out his hand offering the tablet. Claus looked over it, his eyes narrowing, as he read further. “The old men in Autochthon won’t like this.”

Dugan looked confused. “Sir, I don’t understand. If the unit escaped, it should have reported back in, right? If it didn’t, where did it go after Silbern lost it?”

“The unit is dead. This video shows an outline like our unit in the park as if it was running through falling dust caused by Kai Silbern. That’s fake, some sort of ruse. It’s not how the Unit’s stealth systems work. They would have copied the ambient particles. Silbern had to have seen our unit and used his own powers over earth to make this false hollow space amidst the dust storms he created,” Claus said.

John spoke up again. “There was no sign of our unit at the office. It hasn’t reported to us either. If they killed it, what did they do with the body? If they didn’t, where did it go?”

“Go get our assets involved in the investigation. They are to check every centimeter of that building top to bottom. As to this lawyer, it’s a failed mission. We cannot proceed with our attempts to kill him right now. Instead, we’ll push to have him speak today. This disruption will have thrown him off his game. Best have him speak before he has time to spin this for sympathy and work it into his speeches. Now go! We have to make every effort to turn this before the Council gets wind of what’s happened here,” Claus said.

---***---
Central Detention Facility (CDF/DC Jail)
Manifested Detainment Area
---***---

The interrogator was not in a good mood. “Stop jerking us around and tell us what happened!”

“I am not the one being difficult here! I have told you everything I can, but there are limits to what I know,” Kai replied.

“Let’s go over it again,” the Interrogator demanded.

“Fine. We arrived to speak with our legal team before we all went down to testify before Congress. When we arrived at his doors, we heard a curious thump. To me it sounded like a body striking the floor. I broke in the doors to see a camouflaged figure standing over Mr. Campeggio. It had some sort of weapon on its wrist. It had stabbed my lawyer in the neck,” Kai said.

He was reminded of the last time he had been ‘taken in’ and interrogated. However, this time was different. This time, he was unsure if he could free himself. His massive bulk had been restrained with bindings made of Jade. They were enormous shackles, more like large bracers than handcuffs. Kai wondered if they had been made especially for him. Even with his inordinate strength, he was not sure that he could break them.

The interrogator did not look too impressed with Kai’s explanation and pressed for further details. “Was the lawyer fighting back?”

“His arms were around its wrist. The stab wound was bleeding more than a needle-like object should, so I suspect he was fighting and moved the weapon within his own flesh, ripping the wound further. I rushed the assassin, who spun away from me. He fired another wrist mounted weapon at the window and then leapt out. Once it was out the window, I yelled for Terra to come help Mr. Campeggio. She told me he had been poisoned, but that if she was left to work uninterrupted, she could save him,” Kai said.

The interrogator seemed unmoved. “Poison? Why poison a man when you could have just shot him?”

“That is obvious. To make his death look natural. That is just my speculation, however. I am sure Terra will be able to tell you what they were doing as soon as she is sure he is out of danger,” Kai said.

The interrogator shook his head. “We’ll talk to your wife when we’re good and ready. What did you do next?”

“When I was sure Terra had him in hand, I ran to the window. Outside I could barely see the attacker moving on the ground. He was a blur, but I could see him. Manifested eyes see much,” Kai explained. For emphasis he moved his heavily chained hand to his eye and pointed.

The Interrogator scoffed. “How is that possible? Cloaking fields? That sounds like Star Trek crap. Was it the Klingons who were after Mr. Campeggio?”

“No. You do not have to become invisible, just trick the brain into misinterpreting visual data. The digital age is a marvelous thing. Take, for example, reactive camouflage: it has a simple camera that picks up the ambient shade and hue of an area around the wearer. It then adjusts the colors in the patterns of its display to match what is nearby. Visual trickery at its finest and most advanced. The Manifested who work for the military use it at times, but they must be careful. It is expensive. The military prefers to issue it to those who will not damage it. I am not on that list,” Kai said.

The Interrogator growled. “To be able to survive a fall like that...one of the Airs could do it...”

“If so, then there was all the more reason to stop them. A Manifested agent of a foreign power would have reason to assassinate Mr. Campeggio. It makes sense if you think about it. Hurting our cause would drive up foreign recruitment at American expense. Including MSI. Perhaps, however, we are being hasty. There could have been a detachable zip line or some other device that I did not see. I did not have time to search properly for such devices with my Manifested eyes. Nothing can be ruled out, I suppose,” Kai said with a sigh.

“D.C.P.D. is no stranger to foreign politics getting mixed up in domestic crimes, but I have an alternate scenario: a publicity stunt by your own people,” the Interrogator said.

Kai snorted. “That is stupid. We are winning. Why would we endanger that?”

Before the Interrogation Specialist could answer, there was a knock on the door. He stepped outside and Kai looked at the camera in the room, directly addressing it. “...and you behind the camera know it is stupid as well.”

The Interrogator stepped back in with Alan Shore. The pricey lawyer smiled his best and most smug smile. “Come on, Kai, we’re leaving. You weren’t Mirandized and you haven’t been charged with anything. You won’t be answering any further questions on the grounds that making a statement when not knowing what the police are investigating could be self incriminating.”

“You can’t do that,” the interrogator barked confidently. However, his confidence began to wane as the Captain who had accompanied Alan Shore into the room walked up to Kai to remove his restraints

“He can and he has legal precedent,” the Captain said sadly.

The Interrogator seemed confused. “How?”

“Have you seen the legal code laid out in all its multi-volume glory?” Alan asked as Kai’s hands gained freedom. “The courts have ruled multiple times a client can refuse to speak at all if they wish. The law has become so complex that the average individual can never hope to understand it. They might inadvertently incriminate themselves and I'm sure no one wants that for our Austrian friend, here,” Alan said jovially.

“When you wish to ask me questions rather than making orders and when I am sure you are trying to catch my lawyer’s attacker and not attempting to pin something on me, perhaps we will speak again,” Kai said, standing up.

“Come on, Kai, we need to get you a new suit,” Alan said.

Kai looked confused. “Why? Are we not going to the hospital?”

“No. Capitol Hill. They’re making Ed speak,” Alan said, explaining the situation.

Kai’s confusion became deeper. “What?”

“The doctors gave him a clean bill of health, so they’re driving him over to the Capitol Building as we speak,” Alan explained.

With a shake of the head Kai followed Alan out.

---***---
United States Capitol Building
Chamber of the House
Special Joint Inquiry of Congress on Manifested Rights
---***---

Edmond Campeggio walked out slowly. He refused to feign any weakness. The only sign of his attack was the patch of bandage on his neck. As he walked, applause broke out. It seemed Denny and Shirley's hasty calls to their allies in the government had worked. The rumors were already spreading about what had happened. He took a seat at the witness table.

Having no forum for the grave situation and the need for expedited action at hand, rules for this new Joint Inquiry of Congress were quickly crafted. The Vice President stood and called the Inquiry to order. After a brief introduction of the inquiry session, a summary of the purpose for the meeting was read. Upon finishing, Campeggio was formally recognized and asked to take the podium.

The Vice President, who was presiding over the joint inquiry, spoke from his chair. “Before we ask you any further questions, Mr. Campeggio, would you like to make a statement?”

“Thank you, Mr. Vice President, I would. I had prepared a speech and note cards, however, the world has changed for me so much in so few hours I feel it more appropriate that I abandon the possible gains of rehearsed eloquence and instead approach this matter with heartfelt conviction. As some of you know and others may have heard via rumors, I was attacked by an unknown party in my office this very morning. Who they were or what they wanted is unknown. What is known is they sought my life, so it stands to reason they did not want me to speak here.

"I, myself, questioned the wisdom of speaking here so soon after an attack. However, a realization came to me. I realized that, regardless of who my assailants are or what they thought to gain from my death, this was my opportunity, if only a small one, to take part in something far larger than myself. It was my chance to experience, if only for a moment and even if that moment is second hand, the weight and awesome responsibility shouldered by those who do not simply argue the law as I, but who forge it.

"It is just as humbling as being down on my knees, heart hammering with fear and poison flowing through my veins, knowing at any moment my life will end. Beyond these walls millions of people wait for what words will be uttered in this hall and the ramifications they will bring. Millions of lives across our country will be shaped by decisions made today. Through the example set by our great nation all the world will be indirectly affected. I stand rather in awe of that – even more so in that it was fortune that led me here rather than the will of the people. Unlike you, I share no mandate of people's choice. I just happened to be a citizen who saw an injustice and offered my services to a people in need.

"Some say I’m here to represent the Manifested, but that is categorically not true. Like all the people of our nation, they are represented by those already here. Like every other American, they choose to live in this land where we have a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. They put their faith in you to represent them as you represent everyone large to small – justly and fairly. They trust you, as every individual does, not to give into the ‘tyranny of the majority’ when defending and codifying the rights and liberties afforded to everyone in our nation regardless of their abilities or group identity.

"I do not envy your task as it will not be an easy one, but humbly offer my experience and perspective as a man of the law who has worked for and alongside the Manifested for years. As you are the servants of the people, so I am yours. Ask of me what you will, and I will answer to the best of my ability.”

With that, Campeggio braced himself for questions. To answer, he called upon the new power within him, opening that gateway only a small sliver. He was careful to limit how much energy to use so that he would not cause his power to flare around him. While his foes had hoped for a rushed, rambling narrative, only shined and polished answers flowed forth from his lips. His power manifested inwardly. He could literally see the threads of social connections that flowed through the room. He saw those who would listen, those who owed someone, and those who would take a bribe. He tailored his responses accordingly and watched as positions changed – first in a trickle and then in an avalanche. Like an artist who molds clay, Edmond Campeggio shaped the opinions of the highest legislative bodies in the United States. On paper, the end result was a concurrent resolution for the creation of The Joint Committee of Manifested Affairs. But the real battle, the battle for hearts and minds in that chamber and any who would listen beyond the halls, had already been fought and won.

Chapter Text

---***---
Manifested Services Incorporated Compound
Fresno, California
March 5th, 2012
---***---

“Well, from the tests we’ve done so far, your ‘Exaltation’ is very much like our Manifestation,” Terra said as she examined Campeggio.

“As I’ve told you, they’re not different. You're just a different type of Exalt,” Campeggio said.

Terra waved her hand in an accepting but unconcerned way as she continued to flip through Campeggio’s chart.

“Your flesh has the same increased density and resilience. Scar tissue, when it even forms, is quickly broken down and replaced. Your coagulation and vascular repair stops bleeding just as quickly as ours does. Your bone tissue knits together at an accelerated rate. The immune system fights off anything we’ve thrown at it and your body’s systems scours poisons and toxins faster than any human. So yes, in a word, all of the above is exactly the same as our powers. You just lack our elemental aspect, colorations and resistances to our given element,” Terra said as she looked Campeggio up and down.

“While I’m pleased with the information, some of your methods of data acquisition were less than pleasant. However, I take it from the look on your face that you’re not done,” Campeggio said.

Terra began again. “Sorry about that, some things can’t be helped. But, what bothers me are the mental changes. The brain scans we’ve done prove you’re accessing memories when you talk about these things you say you know. No Manifested on record have that ability or intrinsic knowledge. However, in regards to mental strength, we’ve noticed that we Manifested or ‘Dragon-Blooded’ as you prefer, have an increased resistance to certain mental weapons and attacks, be they psionic or magical. So, in light of that, we’ve thought up a test. ”

"A test?"

Terra smiled. “Yes, now, werewolves in particular are a good indication of intrinsic mental fortitude due to the aura of madness that surrounds them. It sends most mortals into a panic and wipes the memory of the werewolf from their minds.”

“Well that seems rather convenient,” Campeggio said. "But I'm not sure..."

“I am going to strap you into this chair, just in case you do have an… episode. Then, we are going to turn you around and a werewolf will walk in. If that works we will know you share our resistance to mental assault,” Terra said interrupting.

Campeggio looked at Terra in a questioning manner. “Do I have to be strapped in?”

“Either that, or we can have my husband come in and wrestle you down if you go mad,” Terra said with a smile. She enjoyed having the normally cocky lawyer at a disadvantage. “Just trying to make this data acquisition as pleasant as possible.”

Campeggio gave her a withering stare then let out a sigh, resigned to his fate. “Alright then, let's do this,” He didn’t much relish the idea of being strapped to a chair, but having a seven and a half foot Austrian behemoth hold him was, by far, a worse idea.

Terra worked the straps. She knew they would hold. They had tested the restraints against some amazingly strong beings, not the least of which had been Kai. Once the straps were in place, she looked behind the lawyer and nodded before turning him around.

Barry Wilks was not a large werewolf, but in Crinos form he was still almost nine feet tall and extremely imposing. He glided into the room with a grace that was odd in a creature so large and loomed directly over Campeggio.

“I can’t even come up with a pithy retort,” Campeggio said, stone faced, trying to hide his shock.

At that, Barry turned back into his human form. He was wearing only a pair of scrub pants.

“Barry Wilks?”

Barry looked over Edmond’s shoulder and spoke to Terra. “Well, it seems you were right. His mental acuity and defenses check out. We’re going to have to assume his non-native memories are internal, not the result of an outside power.”

Terra put her hand to chin. “Why would one set of these ‘Exalted,’ have these memories to guide them while others didn’t?”

“I’d be happy to answer you if you’d be so kind as to unrestrain me, please,” Campeggio said looking down at his restraints then back over his shoulder. Terra smiled apologetically and quickly moved to undo the straps as Campeggio continued.

“It has to do with design. The Dragon-Blooded were given power that could be inherited. Their numbers were...are...not fixed. Their powers were gifted long ago by some powerful elemental spirits, and after that they bred together, increasing their numbers and learning to control their powers from their families and were called the Terrestrial Exalted. We were created by something else equally powerful and made specialists to supplement the Dragon-Blooded army. Once killed, the power within us would seek a new host, usually someone in their prime. They wouldn’t have the luxury of a generation of training. They had to be able to get out into the field at once. My...memories, whatever you want to call them...tell me there were less than one thousand of our kind called Celestial Exalted.”

“If this is true then we’ll have to find the others. We can’t let hostile powers get their hands on them,” Barry said gravely.

Terra stood having unlocked the last of the straps. She looked pensive. “If the Dragon-Blooded were only created once, where did we come from? We just started appearing. There is a high degree of genetic relations among some groups of us, but...”

Campeggio exited the chair and unrolled the sleeves of his white shirt as he answered again. “I don’t recall much, but I remember there was a crisis. Massive amounts of death and destruction. I think the Dragon-Blooded were wiped out by those conflicts and, somehow, the Celestial Exalted were locked away from the world. It would stand to reason that those elemental spirits managed to work their miracle again, reigniting the power of Exaltation in the diluted bloodlines of the remnants of the Dragon-Blooded. I have to wonder what it cost them to do it.”

---***---
Technocratic Order Lunar Base
Dark Side of the Moon
March 7th, 2012
---***---

“Be careful what you volunteer, John. The Old Men can be intimidating, but they are enlightened men of reason. However, they are not immune to making a wrong assumption based on faulty or incomplete data. Keep your head about you and I’ll do what I can to draw their fire,” Claus Rayner said, briefing his younger colleague outside the sliding doors of the communications room.

A feminine computer voice called out to him. “Incoming transmission from Planet Autochthon. Please hold.”

“We both know this is it for me, sir,” John Dugen said with a resigned smile. “I’ve presided over numerous Manifested operations from containment to clean up. Each has been an abysmal failure.”

“None of that was your fault, John. You’ve done more with less than most supervisors dream of. I won’t let them toss away a good man as a sacrificial lamb,” Claus assured him.

“Transmission ready. Proceed,” the computer voice said as the door hissed opened.

Once again, Claus entered the transmission chamber. John followed with only slight hesitation. The holograms of the ruling council of the Technocratic Order of Reason flickered into existence before the two men.

“I am very disappointed in you, Auggie,” the Chief said unexpectedly.

Claus narrowed his eyes slightly unsure as to why such an insulting diminutive form of his long disused first name was being used to address him. “Excuse me?”

“We gave into your custody a rich resource – one of the most powerful tools ever discovered. Where is that tool now? Where is Unit 93?” The Dissenter barked.

“You stand accused of gross incompetence and criminal dereliction of your duties. This will be your crucible of judgment, Augustin Claus-Werner von Rayner. You may take this opportunity to confess to your failings and receive a merciful judgment,” the Form Keeper said officiously.

“Hardly,” Claus shot back.

“Watch your tone, Auggie,” the Chief said.

“Watch your own, Otto!” Claus retorted tersely.

“You are out of order,” the Form Keeper said.

Anger crept into Claus’ face. “These very proceedings are disorderly! I came to give you a post-mission report and find a trial by ambush?”

With a lip half curled into a snarl, the Dissenter barely constrained the contempt in his voice. “Yes, let us examine your post-mission report for it details the very incompetence for which you stand accused. You sent in a lone agent without backup or a retrieval team. You lost that asset, one of the precious few we have. The target of said operation is still alive, and we have no idea how much the Manifested know, only that they definitely saw the agent from how they were able to create a false duplicate of its appearance.”

The Form Keeper spoke next, but not to Claus. He, in contrast to his colleagues, kept a dispassionate tone. “Subdirector Dugen, how would you describe the planning phase of said operation?”

“Meticulous, sir. We spent all available time with Unit 93, learning what it could teach us of its capabilities and helping it plan it’s assassination,” John said, overcoming his shock.

The Dissenter scoffed. “Meticulous? You told the unit what to do then tossed it out alone without backup?”

“Sirs,” John said as he moved a step forward. “The capabilities of the unit were unknown. We had never worked with such an agent before, nor had he worked on Earth. I had to perform a sort of ‘crash course’ on operational guidelines. The unit felt and demonstrated in mockups that stealth was its primary advantage. Any back up sent along would have been noticeably less skilled and risked tipping off the surrounding non-coms that Mr. Campeggio’s death was not a natural occurrence. Plans were put into place to time the attack so that there would be minimal risk of exposure to the Manifested themselves. They were the only beings listed in the official notes from Autochthon that were considered a true danger to Unit 93,” John said, going through his mental list of prepared responses.

“Relax, Dugen, you're not the one on trial here. You have proven quite able to adapt to changing circumstances with surprising speed. Depending on how events play out, you might have the opportunity to show us what you would have done in Claus’ place,” the Dissenter said with a predatory smile.

“That is out of order! Your statement is an obvious attempt to entice the witness against Rayner,” the Form Keeper said in an annoyed tone.

“He’s correct. Rephrase that,” the Chief said with considerably less ire than he’d started.

The Dissenter nodded. “What, if anything, would you have done differently?”

John looked at the members of the Council, then at Claus and carefully considered his next words. “I would have never hoarded such agents on Autochthon where they cannot gain the experience they need to perform at the front lines of our War of Belief. I feel the failure of this mission was largely due to the reliance on an untested asset that, while powerful, lacked the experience necessary to adapt to the very fluid nature of the front lines. In short, though it may cost me my place in the Order, I believe that if you wish to find the cause of this failure, the Council need only look at itself,” John said with the voice of a man who knew he had just committed political suicide.

The entire Council sat in dead silence. The weight of their gaze boring into John.

“Autochthon is becoming increasingly active. The units that we have are, so far, hard pressed to keep the situation here tenable. If we deployed them in force to Earth, we would severely compromise the security of the headquarters itself. Do not think to pass judgment on matters of which you know nothing,” the Chief said coldly.

“Sirs, I was directly asked and can only speak on what I know. But without some rotation of duties to Earth these units will not be of any use,” John continued imploringly. “The secure headquarters within Autochthon will become our last redoubt if action is not taken. I fear we are at a tipping point. Severe crises come with increasing speed and regularity. Opportunity abounds for control and advancement of The Order, but for every slip of the paradigm we allow to pass us by, our enemies increasingly seize the initiative. We have spent too little effort to control ghostly and psionic phenomena. Gaining control of the Manifested seems to be further and further away. The Power Core Empowered Units lack the necessary training and opportunity to shore up our vulnerabilities. I fear that our enemies will continue to capitalize on the opportunities we miss. Twenty years ago I would have said we were on the very precipice of victory. Now I am not so sure we will survive,” John said passionately.

“We’ve never had one of these Units destroyed before. I think the shock has, perhaps, goaded us into being overly hasty in our actions,” the Chief said, making a conciliatory gesture.

The Dissenter looked at the Chief in shock, then into the faces of his fellows. He sat back into his chair with a resigned expression.

“Still, Dugen’s words show a lack of decorum and respect. That should not be allowed to stand,” the Form Keeper said.

The Chief nodded. “I think you need some time away. Perhaps acting as a subdirector has exhausted you more than expected. A few years of lighter duties might help your stress level.”

“Pity. I had held out hopes for you,” the Dissenter said mockingly.

The Chief turned to address Claus. “We will shelve these matters for now. Be aware, however, you will be on increased watch, Claus. We can not afford this sort of setback at this juncture.”

---***---
Liquified Natural Gas (LNG) Extraction Plant
Eastern Siberia, Russia
March 7th, 2012
---***---

The plant was automated. An experimental facility meant to cut labor costs in this cold and lifeless waste. The building itself was a sterile, mechanical thing that didn’t match the blanket of crisp, natural snow around it. Only the plant gave an excuse for anyone to visit this area. It was a convenient point of interest in an otherwise veritable wilderness. Thus, two people had plans to meet here for clandestine business. One had been dropped off, one had yet to arrive, and a third uninvited person waited in the distance for the meeting to commence.

Rilmal Colenski remained motionless in the ever deepening snow. The cold had long ago seeped into his bones. The only movements he made was the slow blinking of his eyes which just kept them focused on the view through his sniper scope. Colenski was almost thirty and while he was not as young as he had been, his experience and expertise had grown enough to hold off any slowing effect age might have on him. His body and mind both were well trained and conditioned but, more importantly, highly disciplined.

At 5'10, he was on the tall side but not enough to stand out. His hair was natural black but neither it or his brown eyes could be seen behind the tight snow hood and mask. His thick snowsuit obscured his muscles and lean distance runner's build. He always kept in shape regardless of the nature of a mission. Too many times he had seen a job go bad and need fast, often violent action to save it.

Despite this, he was mildly worried about the cold. In the last year or two he had noticed it was harder for him to rebound from the cold’s effects. Along with the increased oddities of the weather that had been creeping up in the last four years, frostbite was more than a remote threat.

That worry was distant, however, jammed into a back corner of his mind. He had a job to do and that job demanded his mind's attention. The ability to make quick and reasoned decisions was the most vital tool in an assassin's arsenal. His mind was noted as being among the sharpest of his peers. No plan survives contact with the enemy. Improvise, adapt, overcome. These were Viktor’s watchwords and it had become a kind of mantra for Rilmal Colenski. It was a saying so old and ubiquitous, no one knew the source anymore but had seen him through many missions. No two jobs were ever alike. Each required a unique solution and, as the saying goes, no plan ever survived contact so one was forced to improvise and adapt to overcome.

The mental games he was taught to keep sleep at bay suddenly shattered. The scope’s vision blurred and Rilmal swore inwardly. He began a series of slow motions that would move the rifle enough to clear the lens from the random snowflake that made it past the weather guard. Slow and steady. No quick motions. Nothing that would draw notice. Nothing could be rushed. Everything had to be just right.

Viktor’s lessons stood out to him. He had not seen his mentor in over two years. He was missing and presumed dead. The mysterious heads of Oversight had not revealed any information about his fate. No one was sure who Oversight answered to. It definitely predated the modern Russian Federation. It might even predate the KGB. Colenski personally suspected it had been started by the Tsars. Not that it mattered. Oversight protected Russia, not the specific government of the moment. It watched over the land and people, the borders of which were unimportant. Tsars fall and empires fade but the people and Oversight continued on.

If anything, this off-the-books governmental force was the police force over the policing forces. The makers and breakers of policies and ideals. Even, in rare cases, ideas. He once heard in a movie from the United States that you can’t kill an idea. Rilmal found that laughable. When Viktor asked him why, he simply responded “Kill all the people with the idea, and you kill the idea. It might reincarnate, but that will take time. Ideas are indestructible, not unkillable.”

Oversight used every available method to pursue its missions. Assassination, threats, and subversion all were fair game. Rilmal had been the agent in the field dispensing such methods. However, the removal of dangerous persons was his strongest skill. Therefore, he got the most difficult targets and it did not matter if it was inside or outside of Russia.

In fact, his next mission was already lined up. He was to go to Ukraine to kill some petty leg breaker in the Bratva named Vot. Rilmal had to wonder just why such a seemingly minor individual would be important enough to warrant Oversight’s attention. Still, he had seen Oversight’s actions come to fruition multiple times and had never once been alarmed.

He cleared his sight and slowly moved back into position. The whole ordeal took half an hour and he was about to lapse back into his mental fantasy to stay awake when the black snow-treaded SUV he had been waiting for pulled into sight. Rilmal began to control his breathing. Time ticked away. The mark. The exchange. Squeeze, don’t jerk. The two gunshots echoed in the wilderness, but the bodies would be dead and on the ground before the sound reached their now lifeless ears. He was stiff and cold, but he got up to take off for extraction.

As he rose, he saw the General who had been selling Russian Psionic military secrets to the Chinese lay dead. The contact, however, was not only alive but enveloped in a corona of flames and was turning toward the uninvited guest. He swore, out loud this time, and immediately started running. Rilmal ran as long as he could, which was quite far given the circumstances of lying in the cold for well over twenty-four hours. He was still a kilometer away from his snowmobile when the tree next to him exploded at head level in a shower of splinters and the unmistakable sound of gunshots rang through the forest.

He had not been expecting a Manifested. Nothing in the dossier had indicated such an agent was involved in this operation. Wrapped up for the cold, he had not been able to see the distinctive colorations which would have given away their supernatural identity. He did marvel at how quickly they had found him. He pressed harder but the ground was thick with an early March snow. That made the running much more difficult and his trail was impossible to hide. He caught movement out of the corner of his eye several times and it didn’t take him long to calculate his chances of escape to be nigh impossible. “Dear, dear, Vicktor. Is this what happened to you?” He silently wondered.

He reached into his bandoleer for something to slow his pursuer down. He pulled out a grenade sized explosive and set it for proximity and enough delay to get himself out of its blast range. He dropped it without stopping into his own footprint. Maybe this damnable snow would be useful rather than a hindrance.

He continued to run with his legs feeling as if they were pumping acid instead of blood. He heard the explosion behind him but didn’t take the luxury of looking back. The short period from drop to detention gave him all the bad news he needed. Somehow he made it to his snowmobile and ripped the covering off as he leapt onboard and revved the engine pouring on the speed. He had not made it far when he heard the ‘ping’ ‘ping’ ‘ping’ noise of a burst of gunfire hitting the vehicle. Glancing behind, he saw that the flame ensconced contact was, indeed, a woman and was still up.

The unmistakable scent of gasoline hit his nose. While he had not been hit, his fuel tank obviously had been and his gauges indicated he was losing fuel fast. The leaks flowed out and, caught by the wind whipping by the speeding machine, splashed over his clothing. Rilmal turned the machine from the wilderness back to the plant. He had little chance against a Manifested on foot, but the cover of the plant was preferable to the scantily wooded tundra without transport. Perhaps, if he could stop his pursuer, he could make an escape in the SUV.

As he sped through the gates, a bolt of elemental power struck him. The fuel from the tank ignited and Rilmal’s clothing went up in flames. His world became one of orange light and wracked with the pain of burns. He rolled into the snow, shedding his clothing and wondered just how fast this Manifested could possibly be. His training had kept him alive for many missions, but at this point it was telling him it was hopeless. He should break his kill capsule or eat his own bullet.

Instead, he got up and limped along. For once, his pursuer did not hurry. She slowly made her way forward. Rilmal quickly deduced what she was doing. The more time she gave the injuries she had inflicted upon him to send her quarry into shock, the better her chance to take him alive for questioning. It is what he would have done, so perhaps there was a chance.

To his Manifested pursuer’s eyes, Rilmal obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. He had made it into the plant, but he was following an easily trackable meandering path through the buildings and tanks. Her anima had died down from a bonfire to a wreath of flames by the time she finally found him propped up against the doorway to a reinforced concrete alcove meant to shelter workers while they adjusted a few machine settings out of the weather.

Rilmal watched her say something in Chinese. With the wind and distance he couldn’t make out the words. The smug tone and sneering smile however made the exchange obvious enough as she leveled her firearm at him.

He smiled back though the pain of his burns and and lifted his now non-existent eyebrows before clicking his remote detonator. Around her the pipes filled with pressurized natural gas ruptured. Against the dying anima of flames about her the gas ignited and back flashed into the nearby tanks. The flames themselves did her no harm and she never flinched. However, when the tanks ruptured the various shockwaves hit her like a speeding train. The shrapnel ripped through her flesh and she was dead before her face could register surprise. The instant her life ended her immunity to fire faded and the mortal remains of the young Chinese girl was reduced to cinders and ash.

Rilmal, meanwhile, turned the handle on the door he was leaning against and flung himself backwards into the small shelter to escape the blast. He felt shrapnel riddled parts of his body as some prices still ripped through the building. He also had gone temporarily deaf due to the proximity of the explosion. The pain, however, was driven from him by adrenalin and another, more foreign, sensation.

He knew he was close to dying. It had happened before, but with an arrow speeding his way. It had happened before but with a giant sword bearing down on him. It had happened before but from a being of such grotesque features and radiating such evil as to nearly drive a man insane. It had happened before – many times. Then the air around him erupted a second time.

Blacks and purples suddenly enveloped the agent. At first, he thought he was blacking out, losing his peripheral vision. Then, in flashes of gold light, the darkness receded around him, revealing phantasmic images hidden within the swirling shadow. The purple tinted black of night was nearly overwhelmed with thick grey-black storm clouds. The flashes of gold were lightning silently striking between the clouds. That illumination also revealed a great serpentine shape that hid amid the thunderstorm. It spun gracefully amongst clouds of darkest black and purple, offering only coy hints as to its features. This fantastical display was wreathed all around his form. The gold lightning strikes behind the inky silhouette of power reminded him of a legend that dragons flew the skies herding storms and unleashing the fury of the heavens on the unrighteous.

Gold light radiated from his brow. He could not see the source but felt it like an intense sunburn. It was as if a burning brand had been pressed into his flesh. He knew it was a singular ring of gold. Power flooded his body. Even such as it was, it couldn’t stop him from finally succumbing to the pain and blood loss. In the middle of this unknown and awesome display, unconsciousness took him.

When he awoke he found the dark display was gone and the day quickly fading. His clothing was ripped and shredded from the shrapnel and he was covered in blood. He had done a remarkable amount of healing, but Rilmal could feel there was shrapnel embedded in his flesh that he would have to dig out. A more immediate danger was the cold. As unreasonably cold as it was now, nightfall would be worse and he was now not only without the proper insulation against the hellishly low temperatures but damn near naked. He limped to the General’s corpse and retrieved the dead man's keys. His meticulous planning for the unknown future had set up several places to fall back to in times of need.

Reflecting on what had happened to him he started to plan. He was something like a Manifested but not a sort seen before. He was something different. Some memories of those other lives whose deaths he had experienced kept flashing in his mind like memories trying to assert themselves, but he fought them down. He would have to sort through all of that later and so shoved them aside with irritation. His mind was his most honed weapon and one he took the most pride in tending. He knew his own knowledge and skills could see him out of these immediate straights. When he had time to organize and inspect these new memories they might be useful, but for now they were distracting. One thing he did absorb from them was he needed to keep his condition secret. He could not return to Oversight. He had no desire to become a ward of the state; to be poked and prodded and experimented on.

Overcome then improvise to adapt and survive. A plan formulated in his turmoiled mind almost too easily. He had been keeping up with the events in the world, and a young lawyer in the United States was making waves slicing through governmental measures that controlled the Manifested, to the point where they could pretty much walk around freely. He would go to one of his caches, get his money, get his passports, and get out as soon as possible. America was about to get another citizen; one Jonathan Cole, born 1983 to two currently deceased parents in Kansas.

He knew there were American agencies who plotted against this Edmond Campeggio. He suspected this lawyer would be grateful to have a skilled agent helping his cause. The gratitude of a billionaire would do well to replace a covert agency as a patron.

The SUV was parked far enough away from the tanks to have easily survived. He refueled it with extra containers inside the vehicle. The engine turned over relatively smoothly, and he began his long drive back. If he could keep these other thoughts and images out of his head long enough, he would have time to perfect his accent on the drive to his secret cache.

Chapter Text

---***---
Manifested Services Incorporated Compound
Fresno, California
March 12th, 2012
---***---

Terra Alani loved children. She had devoted her medical studies and talents to help bring children into the world. However, her work had been somewhat sidetracked by the needs of the moment brought on by her Manifestation – or Exaltation as her lawyer would say. She had been one of the only medical doctors among the first wave of those to receive this power, and as such, she had conducted much of the early medical research on Manifested physiology.

Successive waves had resulted in over ninety-nine thousand confirmed Manifestations, but this increased number did little to alleviate the need for her talents. The vast demand of the general population for the unique procedures provided by the Manifested medical workers far outstripped their numbers as cures for otherwise terminal illnesses and other degenerative conditions each required personal treatment.

There was only so much time in a day and it had to be budgeted – some for research, some for saving lives, some for personal needs, and some for her own child. Skipping research could mean a delay in discovering key mysteries of their own nature which might, in turn, help unlock powers of the Manifested that otherwise might never come to light. Skipping time for administering treatments was effectively sentencing others to death. Skipping personal time invited poor mental health and burnout. Skipping time with her only daughter led to the realization that the now nearly three year old girl spoke mainly German and only a smattering of English. Despite her marriage to Kai, Terra had never learned more than a few phrases in German; this another casualty of the lack of hours in a day. Terra had taken the newfound difficulty in communicating with her daughter extremely poorly. She beat herself up over it for weeks while doing everything she could to rectify the situation.

Her husband Kai (another poorly managed time issue) had suggested, rather unhelpfully, that he could easily teach Terra German. This had, in turn, led to one of their only serious arguments since the end of their trial, as Kai clearly did not understand her problem. Summer Rain had a loving and attentive father and plenty of “aunts” in the other Manifested who worked at M.S.I., but she only had one mother. Terra realized that she only had this one chance to raise her first child. It was the conundrum of almost every modern working mother but on a more grandiose scale.

Terra's relationship with her daughter had been further compromised by her condition. She had recently found herself in her second pregnancy and Summer Rain was not taking the news well. Upon learning what was happening to her mother, she had become moody. She was not thrilled with being an older sister, and was very upset at the idea of being supplanted despite the fact that she had numerous younger half siblings that she played with regularly. She had taken to pouting in German and glaring hatefully at her mother's belly as if willing it not to swell.

For a while, the little girl refused to speak to Terra in any language. She was remarkably stubborn and intelligent for one so young. Now, the child had switched tactics. In her latest retaliatory salvo, just to push her mother's buttons, Summer Rain had hidden Terra's phone. The little girl stared defiantly at her mother, refusing to say what she had done with the device. Terra, for her part, couldn't help but be impressed at how much her child’s small obstinate face looked like her own. However, the little girl's stance was all Kai.

Their daughter had inherited not only Kai’s stance, but his stature as well. Summer Rain had been a large baby and she was still large for a girl her age. She had a tan complexion and skin tone as well as Pacific islander facial features from her mother. But puzzlingly, Summer Rain's skin had a coppery hue that was more akin to the Fire-type Manifested. Her blonde hair, which was darker than Kai’s, also featured streaks of reddish copper, almost like flames. It was strongly suspected that she would Manifest Fire-type powers when she matured. This morning, she was adding to that theory by displaying her typical fiery defiance.

“Little girl,” Terra said, trying her best to mimic Kai’s cadence and voice. She thought it best to try his authoritative tone as it seemed to work best on the child. “You will tell me what you did with that phone!”

The defiant little girl folded her arms and shrieked. “Nein! NIE! NIE! NIE!”

She was dressed in bright red Oshkosh B’gosh overalls with a matching white shirt and sneakers. Her hair was done up in small pigtails. She would have looked adorable were it not for the expression of steely resolve twisting her small face.

She knew she could easily just call her cellphone, unless her daughter had turned it off. Could she be that smart? However, that was not the point. Terra narrowed her eyes. She suddenly realized the ludicrous situation in which she found herself: engaged in a staring contest with a small child, however, she knew she could not break. Before either mother or daughter could blink, the test of resolve was broken by the sound of a loud klaxon.

“Security breach in isolation lab three. All personnel to emergency stations. Security breach in isolation lab three,” the synthetic voice called out.

Terra had long dreaded the day that someone, whether it was vampires, mages, or just mortal reactionaries would suddenly turn on the Manifested and their hard won peace would end. She immediately reigned in her momentary panic. Whoever this was would get quite a shock. Valentina had the whole assault team here. They were between missions and Kai was not far. He was over at the P.S.I. Compound helping Barry. He could return very quickly if needed.

Terra scooped up Summer and headed for the door. The toddler wriggled in her grasp. “Mama! Behind the plants,” she called out, realizing the emergency required her mother to have her phone, before burying her face in Terra's chest.

Turning to look, the mother saw her phone. She stooped without slowing her forward momentum and snatched the device from behind the potted tree.

Racing through the halls, the doctor activated a feature on her phone that read her invisible anima. Assured of her identity, the device linked to the building’s central computer and then displayed the current known information about the alert, as well as any authorized personnel in the vicinity of the problem.

A small dot on the map of the compound let her know that Valentina was already headed to the maximum security labs. Terra wondered to herself what was happening. Why would there be a break in at lab three? There were quite a number of things in that lab but there shouldn't be anything that dangerous or important. She wondered if someone was trying to steal Campeggio’s blood samples and lab work.

She came to an abrupt halt at a steel door. The door opened to reveal Arnold Fletcher. The werewolf was small and he was quite old, but beneath this placid exterior, Terra knew the beast still lived. He had stepped back from running P.S.I., turning the company over to Barry Wilks. While he might not be as strong or fast as he was in his prime, there was an aura about the old wolf, one could feel even as he was in homid form. The only being Terra knew of that exuded a stronger feeling of wisdom and inner strength was the old Mokole, Pops Rayburn of New Orleans.

The old wolf simply nodded at Terra. “Don't worry. They will be safe here,” he said.

Terra readily believed him. “I'm going to see what I can do to help.” She sat the child down and turned the little girl to face her. “Summer, stay here so when your father gets here he can find you."

“Yes, mama,” Summer said, trying to look brave as her mother smiled at her and rushed off.

Arnold ushered the girl in. As they had come from her mother's office and not the residential area she was the last child to arrive. As the panic room door was bolted, Summer looked for Sebastian, or simply ‘Bastian’ as he was commonly referred to. She was the eldest, but he was the next oldest child and, like many of the children here, he was her half sibling.

Bastian was not only Summer's half sibling he was, perhaps, her best friend. Summer saw him coming toward her with a concerned look on his face. The son of Kai and Valentina, Bastian was six months younger than Summer Rain. However, despite being younger, he was just as large as she was. Like his sister, he had inherited Kai’s enormous stature, only moreso. He looked to be an almost carbon copy of his father, down to the skin tone and white-platinum hair, although he shared his mother’s Hispanic facial features and amber eyes. Like his half sister, he was fiercely intelligent for his age.

“You okay, Sums? I was worried,” the boy said.

Summer was about to respond when she suddenly stopped in her tracks to look at the cabinets next to the sink. There was a funny noise coming from it. “Shh! You hear that?!”

Her brother looked at her strangely. “No. What is it? You hear something?”

“Shh, something's in there.”

The cabinet locks were supposed to keep out babies, but Summer knew how it worked. She was, at least in her mind, a big girl. She didn't open cabinets because her papa wouldn't like it, not because the lock was meant to stop babies.

“No, don't do that,” Bastian said as Summer reached for the latch.

“Hush!” Summer said, as she defeated the latch and opened the cabinet.

Arnold looked up from comforting scared children as both Summer Rain and Bastian screamed.

---***---
Lab Three
---***---

Valentina looked toward the lab door and saw the figure and name of Terra pop up on her tactical goggles. Terra had messaged her that she was coming to the lab to help, but in a chaotic situation such as this, Valentina had learned to never take anything for granted.

When it indeed was Terra who opened the door, she relaxed a bit and called out to her. “We need you over here. The only sign of damage is this case.”

Terra frowned. “Let me check the logs. This isn't a medical lab, so I'm not often in here. We only locked Mr. Campeggio’s test results in here for security.”

Terra passed her hand and more importantly her anima over the inventory terminal. Her eyes quickly darted through the list before widening suddenly.

Valentina quirked her head to the side in a concerned manner. “What is it? Is it something dangerous?”

“Very! It was the gem that was part of the assassin who attacked Mr. Campeggio. It held the essence of its power, a power like our own.”

Valentina shook her head. “But, without a host, what can it do?”

“Seek one out. It stabbed my arm when I tried to stop it. It went quiet after we locked it in a jade box, but…” She looked around frantically. “...the box… it isn't here,” Terra said, searching the shards of bulletproof glass.

Valentina glanced at the shattered alcove before barking orders to the other team members. Terra turned from what she was doing with a confused look on her face. “That sounded like German.”

“We always use German when we’re in combat. We have since the team started in New Orleans,” Valentina said in a distracted voice as she listened to the others on her bluetooth earpiece.

“Why? You all speak Spanish!” Terra said with an agitation that Valentina did not understand.

“Yes, but Kai didn't and he was the one teaching us. I was the only one who spoke decent English. At the time, we were planning for an American assault. English and Spanish are the top two spoken languages in America. I thought German would be harder for our enemies to listen in on,” Valentina said, explaining her reasoning.

Terra narrowed her eyes. “Oh, is that why?”

“Well, that and I made a game out of trying to show up Kai by learning German faster than he learned Spanish. It was a great motivator, you know how he hates losing. Why are you so concerned about us speaking German?”

Terra shook her head.

Valentina turned. There was shouting from one of the other team members across the room who was pointing excitedly. The pair rushed over to find something had chipped away the concrete around the main water pipes leading into the lab’s mop sink and eyewash station. The hole was about as big as a fist.

Terra’s face fell. “Oh, damnit....”

“That's it! I'm sealing the whole compound, even P.S.I. Spread out, we have to find it. That thing could be anywhere,” Valentina shouted.

---***---
Cart Trail Between P.S.I. and M.S.I. Compounds
---***---

Kai Silbern listened to the chatter over his own earpiece while driving his custom cart back home. The enhanced vehicle glided over the small paved road as Terra’s voice came over the radio. “The damn thing was in with the children. Before Arnold could respond, it skittered between them and reached the air vent.”

“We're searching the ductwork now, but we have a lot of buildings to look through,” Valentina’s voice said.

Kai broke in. “Do not bother. When hunting, do not always follow your prey, follow its instincts. What does this thing want?”

He heard Terra’s voice again. “I think it might be after a human host. It reacted strongly to Alan but not to us or the children. It also didn't go after Arnold. How many ordinary humans do we have in the building?”

“Not many. I'll move the guards to watch them,” Valentina’s voice replied.

Kai drove on, however, very quickly an odd feeling made him look back. He was certain he had seen something.. His eyes widened and he jerked the wheel, turning his cart around. “Cancel that! I have the damn thing in my sights!”

Terra’s voice came back. “What? Where!?”

“Outside. It must have followed the air ducts to the roof. It is running along the power lines like a squirrel. It is headed off our property towards the road.”

Valentina’s voice crackled over the radio. “Maybe it didn’t like any of the humans we have here?”

Kai interrupted her thought. “It must see me, it has sped up. It is too fast. I am not going to catch it,” he said, gritting his teeth in concentration.

“That cart goes thirty-five even with you in it,” Terra said, fully aware of the vehicle’s specifications. She was the one who had it custom built for him. Kai was far too large for a normal golf cart.

“That's not fast enough to get on the highway, Angelina is in the garage, she's bringing your car to you,” Valentina’s voice told him.

“Have her pass me and ram the fence. After that, open the passenger door. I will leap in. Time is of the essence,” Kai ordered.

“That might not be necessary. She has a grapple gun,” Valentina’s voice said hopefully.

“That might work. Very forward thinking,” Kai said, impressed.

“Be careful. That thing might have eaten through a jade box. I doubt a steel claw will hold it long,” Terra’s voice warned

“It doesn't have to hold it for long,” Valentina’s voice said.

Kai looked about and saw his custom Mercedes-Benz AMG G63 Wagon speeding past him. It screeched to a halt, fishtailing 90 degrees right in front of the perimeter fence of the M.S.I. Compound. Angelina had already rolled down the window, ready to lean out for her shot

Kai had faith she would hit. He had never seen a better shot than Angelina. The assault team called her the ‘Angel of Anointment’ for her ability to always hit a foe in the head; like a priest anointing the penitent during a blessing.

The grappling hook’s claw shot out, a steel cable trailing behind it. The claw grabbed the insect-like power crystal, pulling it back as the gun’s winch wound in the cable. However, just as soon as the gun retracted and it seemed the thing was caught, it all went wrong. Black pincers snipped off the grappling arms and the thing leapt right towards Angelina’s chest. With faster than human reflexes, she blocked it. She then yelped in surprise as something stabbed her arm.

Kai had caught up and reached for Angelina. The skittering horror leapt away, beetle-like wings appearing on its ‘back.’ They couldn't give it enough lift to fly, but it extended its jump enough to make it over the fence and into the back of a passing pick-up on the highway.

Kai had no time to follow. Something was wrong with Angelina. She had slumped over in the wagon. His huge form scrambled into the cab. “Angel are you alright?”

Valentina’s voice came over the headset again. “What happened, Kai?”

“Get Terra here, quickly! Her heart is like a jackhammer! It is the same poison as the lawyer, I would swear on it!”

“Lay her down and tell her to keep calm. I'll be right there. You keep following that thing,” Terra’s voice ordered.

Kai blinked in disbelief. “What?”

“You holding her won't help and that poison was meant for a human. She'll be fine, I'll have her cured soon as I'm there and I'm almost at my Jeep. You are the only one close enough to catch that thing. Go! You can't help her, this is my fight now,” Terra’s voice ordered again.

“You are right, wife. I leave her in your hands. I trust you. Valentina! Prep the team and the helicopter. If things get bad we will respond in force. That thing might be trying to return to it's masters,” Kai said darkly

---***---
Technocratic Research and Storage: Facility Eight
Mount Erebus, Antarctica
March 12, 2012
---***---

Claus Rayner stepped off the teleportation pad as the recently demoted John Dugan strode over with a cheerful smile.

“John. You sure seem to be settling in well,” Claus said.

John nodded. “Very well. I had no idea the importance of this facility. What about you, Rayner? Are the old men still sharpening the axe?”

“Far from it. While it may prove too little too late, the Council has ordered that at least a handful of power core enhanced operatives will be assigned to Earth on a rotating basis. Too bad it cost us so much,” Claus said with a sigh.

“Well, at least my sacking brought about some change. The Order will be better for it,” John said with resolve in his voice.

“Hardly. They let ego get in the way of truth. I now dread the day I get reassigned to Autochthon. You were the only one even close to being ready to pick up this job when I'm gone,” Claus said, lamenting the situation.

“If they find out what's going on here, they might remove you. After dealing with the Council first hand, however, I can see why the secrecy is necessary,” John said.

“Even with the situation in Autochthon their choices are not for the good of the Order. They've placed their own safety as priority over our eventual victory. There is a word for that my dear boy,” Claus said in a jovial tone

“Cowardice?”

“Treason, my boy. It's treason,” the older man answered in a darker tone. “There is a time for sounding like a corporate project manager and there is a time to admit that we are, in fact, generals on the front lines of the world's most important war.”

“Is that why this facility was commissioned? I know it's older than its current projects and purpose.”

“I won’t claim I foresaw the sort of problems we have today. I did, however, long suspect that we would one day find our war for the future of mankind spilling out of the shadows. When that time came, I knew we would need weapons designed to operate in the open. Using weapons designed for the realities of previous wars is tactically unsound when planning for future conflicts. Thus, here, far from prying eyes at a location with a nice boring purpose on the official paperwork, we have this space devoted to being both the labs and factory that will make the weapons to win an open war. So long as I can help it, neither the bean counting bureaucrats who'd claim it was wasteful nor the simpering idealists who'd claim creating such weapons only invites their use, will ever learn of it,” Claus said passionately.

John nodded. “Well, it makes me feel more confident about our long term prospects just knowing it's here. Did you want to tour any of the site or are you going straight to the Pit?”

“Oh, I think I'll look around. I would think having someone of your talents forced out here would at least have the benefit of seeing some improvement in operations,” Claus said.

John smiled. “Well, weapons and armor production are up sixty-six percent.”

“I would have expected no less. Quite excellent,” Claus said, matching the younger man’s smile.

“Procurement of soldiers has quadrupled,” John continued.

Claus looked up in disbelief. “What was that?”

“Not doubled or tripled. Quadrupled. We are catching up with the weapons and armor production. I have already drafted an equipment sharing plan so training will not be disrupted,” John said his pleasure at having surprised Claus evident on his face.

“That is quite amazing,” Claus said, his flabbergasted state obvious on his face.

“Some of the scans we took of the assassin unit enabled me to adjust the energy transfer into the Pit. The result has been increased activity from the original subject,” John explained.

“Is that so? Well, look over these,” the older man said as he handed John a pad. ”It’s more glyphic inscriptions smuggled out of Autochthon. If my translations are right we might blow even those numbers away.”

John took the pad as Claus entered the elevator. They descended into the storage levels where seemingly endless rows of seven foot tall ovoids of white, psionically resonant nephrite, what less scientific individuals might call elemental jade, were stored.

“We haven’t found any new ones in some time. Our stock is well over 1.8 million units. If you include those just coming out of production, we should have around two million. The scraps are all still taken to weapon production to be processed once the sleepers are awakened,” John explained.

Claus nodded. “Excellent. Has there been any progress on their training?”

“Yes. While the brain induction training system we use to teach the flash clone agents worked, we found their brains process information differently, so customizing the system to work for their brains would lead to better results. It still looks the same, though,” John said as they passed into the next room.

Inside, bodies floated in tanks of fluid. The bodies were tall, thin and well toned. They were a bit leaner than humans tended to be. Their flesh was creamy-smooth and came in tones ranging from pale milk, caramel, mocha and dark ebony. Despite the fact that they were obviously inhuman, they were quite beautiful. Their eyes and ears were covered, but the warm fluid they floated in was oxygenated. Thin metal devices on their heads, almost like tiaras, funneled tailor made instructions into their ravenous minds.

“The data density is good, retention looks very good. Let's move on to physical exercise,” Claus said, eyeing the displays as he passed through without slowing.

He opened the next door to the practice yard. Within, hundreds of these ‘Jadeborn,’ as the Technocracy researchers had learned they called themselves, performed martial exercises. Armored as they were, there was little to differentiate the males from the females. The white, psionically resonant nephrite armor covered the black, skin tight under suits they wore.

John put his hand under his chin. “You know, every time I come here, I'm reminded of stormtroopers.”

“So am I, John, so am I,” Rayner said with pride.

“Well, at least their aim is better,” John said with a smile.

Claus looked at him with obvious confusion. “They won't need precise aim. They’re assault troopers, not snipers. Pair them with the right support units and they’ll take down anything. Too bad we don't have enough nephrite to make some supporting Panzer units. The drone tanks will have to suffice, I suppose,” Claus said with a shake of his head.

“Umm, yeah. Well, let’s continue,” John said, realizing the old man was thinking of a very different sort of stormtrooper. He, at times, forgot, for all the grousing about the old men in Autochthon, Claus himself was quite old.

Claus broke the pause. “How are your lessons in their language coming?”

“I haven’t been prioritizing it. We teach them all several human languages, so I didn't see the need...” John began.

“No, no, John. If you want to lead people you have to speak to them as they speak, both metaphysically and physically,” Claus said as she stepped forward and, in a tongue spoken by less than five humans on Earth, addressed the trainees.

“Remember, hard work brings out one’s inner greatness. There is greatness within each and everyone of you. It is that greatness that shone through when we freed you from the nephrite. It is that greatness that will be needed to push back the forces of darkness that threaten both Earth and Autochthon. That greatness will shine through you and banish the darkness and those creatures that lurk in the shadows! Your hard work brings an age of enlightenment and peace, unending millennia of peace for yourselves, for your human siblings, FOR THE FUTURE! FOR REASON!” Claus said, his voice filled with a hypnotic charisma that even those who didn’t speak the language stopped and turned to listen to.

The Jadeborn soldiery intoned his words with fervor. “FOR THE FUTURE! FOR REASON!”

John watched the scene before him with shock. He was quick to banish that expression and give Claus a forced smile. Claus’ own smile was anything but forced. It was the smile of a man who saw that victory was within his grasp.

Chapter Text

---***---
San Francisco, California
Mission District
March 12th, 2012
---***---

Kai was not having a good day. He had spent over three hours tracking this small device. It first turned northward on highway ninety-nine but then wandered around a bit before it took a hard westward route in Modesto until it arrived in San Francisco. He now waited for Nicole Hart’s voice over his earpiece to guide his next steps. She had been instrumental in cracking government databases to expose the conditions that the Manifested were at first subjected to. Since their legal victory, however, she had been reluctant to so blatantly break with her ethics. Kai did not argue with her. As a practical matter, too frequently showing computer security to be worthless against the Manifested would only lead to people thinking up alternatives while providing fodder to their detractors to demonize them in the eyes of others.

Nicole slipped from network to network, borrowing the eyes of security cameras and traffic monitoring systems, tracking the progress of the aggravating jewel. The going had been difficult in the early stages of the pursuit and Kai had to rely largely on his visuals. But now in a larger metro area with more infrastructure, the hunt had been easier for her while Kai lagged behind due to the increase of traffic and people. Trying to stay stealthy, the rogue spider-like jewel had leapt from vehicle to vehicle and skittered down alleyways staying fairly consistent in its direction before it hitched a ride in a woman's purse where it inexplicably seemed to be content to stay for the time being. Kai had reasoned it knew where it was going as the crow flies, but not as a GPS would direct. How this woman played into the thing’s plan he did not know.

Nicole’s voice crackled in Kai’s earpiece. “There’s a building up ahead. I can’t see it very well. It’s positioned so it's out of line of sight to all the nearby cameras. I can't tell what it is and it's not networked to anything external. It has government shadow organization or criminal hideout written all over it,” she quipped dryly.

“It is neither,” Kai assured her

Nicole’s voice came again. “Oh, then what is it?”

“A discotheque,” Kai said with mild amusement.

Nicole sounded incredulous. “A night club?”

“Do not underestimate the desire of the wealthy and famous for anonymity when they go out to revel.”

Kai walked to the door confident that it would open. Being a Manifested made him part of a very small and famous circle, but that was not the sort of exclusiveness which mattered to this sort of place by the look of it. His adventures with the Federal Government had lent him a bit of fame, or rather infamy. His appearance in the British tabloids when his relationship to Kailum Windham was revealed had only increased that fame. However, Kai knew what would seal the deal and allow him entry. It would be the damn television show, he thought sardonically.

The first two seasons had been hellish. The producer wanted to capitalize on the media blitz surrounding Kai and Terra being on trial. However, Terra had insisted that the show feature other members of M.S.I. with Kai and Terra having a yearly decrease in both screen time and time spent promoting the show worked into their contract. The year of traveling in the company of stars so they could give the paparazzi photo ops and display how much the Hollywood ‘elite’ cared about Manifested rights and the latest cause du jour had been particularly torturous for Kai. Terra had dealt with the situation much better, but he knew the crunch it had put on her limited time bothered her significantly more.

Despite how much he loathed the entire concept, he knew that was the sort of fame that would open this door. He approached with a confidence that proclaimed he had every right to be there. He knew the bouncers who guarded such a place would take any display of doubt that the door would open as a sure sign it should not.

Kai stepped up to the door and the bouncer, who like most of the world was smaller than the Manifested giant, gave the larger man a friendly smile. He was caucasian, thickly muscled and shaven of head. He had a meticulously straight and short strip of hair from his bottom lip to the edge of his chin. He was clad in black jeans with a black leather belt and matching black boots with an expensive black t-shirt: a fairly standard uniform for tough and expensive muscle. The seemingly mandatory dark shades completed the look. Kai was sure the man was good at his job. He was also sure he could snap the man's back like a stick over his knee if need be.

“Mr. Silbern. Welcome to the Other Side. Things are pretty slow right now, a private after party just ended,” the expensive muscle said.

“The manager's office, please, I am here on business, the sort that needs to be kept discreet.”

The man looked at Kai and seemed to weigh his odds at pressing for more information. Upon sizing Kai up, he thought better of it and waved him inside where he asked Kai to remain as headed off to inform superiors.

Kai was glad. The guard had likely never killed a man or faced true combat, but he seemed well trained and in excellent shape. He would not be able to best him without doing him actual harm. That would end up drawing attention which was the last thing he needed right now.

The bouncer returned in short order. He motioned for Kai to follow. They walked through the entry lounge and turned into an unobtrusive hall up a short flight of stairs. Within a room at the end was the manager; a smartly dressed man in a cut suit of the latest fashion. Kai thought him to be in his forties, but he was good at concealing his age from those who might be less observant. Kai suspected he did this in order to keep up with the youth driven cult of fame.

“Thank you, Ted, you can go,” he said dismissing the bouncer.

“I appreciate your taking the time to see me. I am tracking a thief, perhaps an unknowing one. An untested and unpatented piece of technology left our labs. The current holder might be unaware of their possession of the object. If so, they might be in trouble when those who arranged its theft return for it,” Kai said, turning his phone to display the young woman he was looking for.

“For such an emergency I certainly can help. Normally, even the police would never be allowed access to our security system without a court order. However, for our exclusive members, people of discretion and refinement, I can make an exception,” the manager said, displaying a professional smile.

Kai picked up his game at once. “I do seem to have lost my membership. Perhaps, while I am here, you could renew my status. I can sign fresh paperwork now, if you like.”

“No need to rush. Come back when you and your lovely wife both have time to sign. I'm sure that all of our members will be excited to find our exclusive club was such a treat as to lure you both out of your ivory tower.”

“Perhaps, when I find this woman, Terra will return with me to celebrate the recovery of our property,” Kai said in a strained voice.

“Of course. I'm sure we'll be seeing more of both of you. No need to worry over your rather large tab, we'll simply charge your account for your balance due,” the manager said, rising.

Kai bared his teeth and tried to pass it off as a smile. The bribe of money did not concern him. What did concern him was that he, and more specifically Terra, would have to spend precious time here. He wondered how many night’s penance he would have to spend on the couch for this.

The manager led Kai to the security room: a simple desk with a computer linked to rows of video storage. Pulling up the club's entryway, he scanned back to find the woman in question. She came in, but never set the purse down. She moved through the club's rooms to the back where she left with two very peculiar men. One was tall, nearing six and a half feet in height with light blond hair. He was very muscular and well tanned. He was dressed much like the hired muscle at the door: eye obscuring glasses, dark jeans and matching shirt. Kai’s eyes narrowed. Unlike the bouncer outside, this one carried himself as someone who had killed before and was not just professional muscle. He didn't quite feel military, but could be a member of one of the more disciplined organized crime groups or a somewhat relaxed discipline mercenary force. The other was a stark contrast. He was, at best, 4’ 9.” He was slender with very pale skin. He had vibrant golden blonde hair and his eyes were an intense blue. There was a softness that seemed almost feminine about him. There was no audio, but something in the way he moved and his body language was oddly soothing and almost hypnotic. They only met with the woman for a minute or two. Afterwards, all three left together, and, more important to Kai, with the bag.

“Who are those men?”

“Why, Mr. Silbern, that’s Jay Odele,” the manager said, beaming.

Kai stared at him blankly.

“The pop star, Mr. Silbern! Surely you’ve heard of him. He’s the artist behind the album Spring Love, Roses Bloom! He's had chart toppers like ‘Hearts in Play, Lives in Motion’ and ‘I Hear the Music of Your Heart’,” the manager, explained shocked

“I am over fourteen and not a woman, so I am not familiar with his music. I am more into Rammstein, Man O’ War, and of course Falkenbach,” Kai said, explaining.

“Ahh, yes, well he was likely headed back to his home. I think he said he had a meeting,” the manager said.

Kai nodded. “Thank you for your time. I will give this Mr. Odele a call. Do not trouble yourself, I know the way out.”

Once out of ear shot, Kai had Nicole go to work finding this pop star.

---***---
The Law Offices of Campeggio, Schmidt & Lewiston
Washington D.C. Office
March 12th, 2012
---***---

Edmond Campeggio saw his latest client out the door. He was cutting it close. He had less than fifteen minutes to prepare before his next meeting. He shouldn’t have tried to squeeze one last client in. There were some people who came to his office who waited briefly while the person ahead of them finished their business. A United States Senator was not a person you kept waiting without a very good reason.

Senator Immanuel “Manny” Waters was a first term senator from Texas. He was appointed to replace the sitting Senator when she was elected Governor of Texas. He was up for reelection this year, but he had proven to be very popular with the people. His odds of reelection were considered very good.

He had been a District Attorney in Texas, a Special Prosecutor, and a United States Attorney working for the Justice Department; all under different presidents. When the current sitting president had dismissed him from the Justice Department, he had been appointed to the Senate as an Independent to the surprise of both political parties in power. He had friends on both sides of the aisle. He was known to have sided with the Conservatives on fiscal issues and the Liberals on most social ones.

He had arranged to come meet Campeggio in his office. What he wished to discuss, however, had remained vague. Campeggio hoped it was to give his support to the Manifested. He would be one hell of an ally. The man knew the law forwards and back. As an attorney, he had been known for his fact driven cases. He would call upon precedent for introducing evidence and testimony that was usually devastating to his opponent’s cases. If you had skeletons in your closet, Waters would find them and hang you with them. He had absorbed the rules of the Senate with ease. Tactics similar to his prosecutorial days had made him a sought after ally and a feared enemy. Most considered him somewhat of a Boy Scout, but also knew he had one hell of a fight in him.

Edmond’s intercom chimed and his secretary’s voice came over the speaker. “Sir, Senator Waters is here...”

While not outwardly visible, Campeggio had a momentary flash of dread. Of course the man showed up ten minutes early. He stepped to the door and opened it himself, however, beaming a high wattage smile at the Senator.

Senator Waters was a tall, distinguished looking man with an average build. There was a youth and vigor in his bearing for a man who had just celebrated his seventy-first birthday this past November. He had salt and pepper hair that leaned toward the salt side of the equation. A heavy set of black eyebrows framed his sharp-featured face and brown eyes. His face was pale as one would expect of someone working indoors for long periods of time. It was also outwardly kind which hid a steely resolve of one who fought for his success. He wore an expensive suit typical of the Washington elite, complete with the ubiquitous American flag pin on his left lapel.

“Edmond Campeggio, I hope my coming down here to see you hasn’t put a crimp in any of your plans,” Waters said with a return smile as he extended his hand.

Campeggio extended his hand as well, shaking hands with the Senator. “Not at all, Senator. Meeting a man of your stature is an honor. Please, have a seat anywhere you wish,” he said with a wide wave that indicated not only his desk and the chairs in front of it, but the long conference table he had to one side for group meetings and the sitting area with comfortable chairs and a low table he had on the other side for when clients required a less formal environment.

Waters moved to the stuffed chair closest to him near the low table. As he did, he maneuvered a briefcase, setting it atop the table facing himself. Campeggio sat on the other side of the table as Waters released the latches securing the briefcase and opened the lid. The lid kept Campeggio from seeing inside of it, but it was low enough that Waters’ face was unobscured.

“There are quite a few people in prosecution who don’t like you. They think you bent the law too much, that you rode the Manifested like a racehorse to fame, and that you lied, cheated, and stole from the U.S. government. I am not one of them, however. The people who did those terrible things to the Manifested were scum who never should have been put in a position where they would represent our government on any level. They should never have been defended, and they should have been brought up on federal charges. While I do not entirely agree with your methods, I can see them being moderately justified, given the lengths your opponents went too,” Waters said as he looked at Campeggio from across the top of his briefcase.

Campeggio looked genuinely interested in his choice of words. “Moderately justified?”

Waters leaned back and steepled his hands. “When you have to wrestle a pig, you get mud on you. You are not, however, obliged to wallow in it. Trickery to expose their bad conduct was completely justified. Stealing state secrets and all but threatening to deny the Manifested’s curative abilities to anyone if you didn't get your way was less so. I suspect, however, it was done in the heat of the moment. Many decisions made in the trenches, so to speak, feel more well rationed when we’re full of fear and adrenaline. They have tried to kill you twice, these conspirators, haven’t they?”

“So you believe there is a conspiracy to limit the freedoms of the Manifested,” Campeggio said, interested that someone outside of his clients believed him on that.

“Given the smooth transition from powerful and heavy handed direct attacks to low key, underhanded work to erode the foundations the case was built on, yes. That shows not only intelligence and planning, but a group that is both powerful and pervasive. This group has kept up its activities regardless of which political party is in charge of policy. It has shown to hold power outside the United States by its international actions. It also has proven so powerful that it has only been stopped from obtaining its goals when the actions of the Manifested themselves and their remarkable talents have derailed their schemes. This provides a motive for their efforts, the why of the plotting against the Manifested: they fear what they cannot control. This means these conspirators are fundamentally incompatible with the ideals this nation was founded on. It would be intolerable to allow this to continue,” Waters said matter-of-factly.

“Those are my thoughts as well. The Manifested, by virtue of being able to work around whatever methods they have of manipulating the world at large, have become something of a lighting rod. It is dangerous being their lawyer, but stopping the persecution of the Manifested is the right thing to do,” Campeggio said passionately.

“I wouldn’t act that sanctimonious if I were you. It’s not very becoming. There is self interest at stake here.”

“I was only ever after money because it was the highest punishment I could gain for the Manifested. My share gave me the freedom to task a major law firm with the challenge of maintaining those gains. On paper I might be a billionaire, but I live like a modest multi-millionaire,” Campeggio said with a smile.

The humor was wasted on Waters. “I’m not talking about greed. The self interest I mean is more personal. The fact of the matter is that you, Edmond Campeggio, are one of the Manifested,” Waters said, a flicker of triumph flashing across his face.

Campeggio looked shocked. “What?”

“I notice you didn’t correct me when I said the only times their plots had been stopped, it had been by the Manifested. You stopped the attacker in this room, not Kai Silbern.” He then pulled a folder from his briefcase and stood up. “I have the case file and all its photographs. I notice you’ve replaced the furniture, carpet and repainted. The layout of the room, however, is the same.”

“How did you get that?” Campeggio asked as Waters tossed the open folder on the table, revealing the crime scene photos of the attack on Campeggio from the previous month.

“I have plenty of influence, particularly as it is related to an ongoing senatorial matter. You were not eating breakfast at this table. It’s too low. You were over there,” Waters said as he walked to the conference table. “The juice stains on the floor were here, meaning your attacker had to be standing there. The sideways splatter was from the pitcher moving with the left arm shielding the eyes like so.”

Waters moved, pointing to the floor. “Juice trailed the attacker this way, dripping off the soaked arm. Why that way? He was following you. Why were you going that way, toward your desk where you had a weapon. The poison spill was here. Here there were blood droplets. That doesn’t seem to line up with events as stated in your testimony. Unless you were caught right here, turned this way, and then were injected right here in THIS spot. This spot where the blood was dribbled, then how did the poison end up so far away? The attacker was tossed violently to the side and you both wound up on the floor here where the poison was ejected.”

The Senator pulled a pen out of his pocket. The reverse side was a laser pointer. He pointed it at the window “Why was the break in the window so high up? If someone wanted to jump out a window they would aim for making the break in the window closer to the base. Your testimony says the attacker shot out the window, despite not using such a firearm on yourself or Kai Silbern. The alignment of the hole only fits if you fired the bullet from right here that way toward your attacker, missing their head, the upward angle carried it on to strike the window far higher than anyone seeking to break it for an escape. You were attacked and you killed your attacker right here in this room.”

“So I was lucky. I didn't want my enemies knowing how close they came and made up a false story to dissuade them from trying again. I don’t have to be Manifested for that. Besides, all Manifested have a distinctive set of looks related to the classical element with which they are connected. Not to mention they have an aura of power. The room would have suffered elemental damage if I had been in such a fight and used a great deal of power,” Campeggio countered.

“All known Manifested have such a look. An undocumented new sort of Manifestation, however, perhaps not. There was damage to the room. As I stated previously you have all new furniture and new carpet, but not new law books or bookcases,” Waters said walking to one of the inset bookshelves lining the walls.

Curious, Campeggio walked with him. He was quite shocked when Waters put his arm into a shelf and pulled the entire row of books into the floor.

“What are you doing...” Campeggio started to ask but stopped upon seeing the faintly visible effect on the wood behind the books.

“The bleaching effect is caused by the sun. It leaves the rest of the wood, which is in shadow, unaffected. This case is built into the wall, immovable, and the sun shines from that direction. This shadow effect would only occur if the light was coming from there. Right there where you were standing, Edmond, where you were manifesting an aura like the sun,” Waters said.

“This is a house of cards you’ve built here. If it was true, however, what would you do next? Where would we go from here?”

Waters smiled. “From here, I would ask what Caste you are and if you’d found any of your circle mates?”

“How do you know those terms...” Campeggio started to ask, but stopped as the answer came to him.

“Because I’m one of the Solar Exalted,” Waters said with a smile confirming Edmond’s suspicions as a caste mark forming upon his brow; a golden circle, solid on the top, but with only an empty ring as its bottom half.

Campeggio blanched. “A Twilight!”

“That was all worth it. The look on your face was priceless,” Waters said with a chuckle.

Campeggio walked over to his desk with a smirk and pushed the button on his intercom. “Clear the rest of today's appointments and take messages on all my calls. I don’t want to be disturbed. The Senator and I have a lot of business to discuss.”

Waters spoke again as Campeggio looked at him. “So have you? Found any of your circle mates, that is? I take it your memories included those terms?”

“No, I haven’t,” Campeggio said as he moved around his desk to pour himself a glass of water at the conference table. “I do remember my circle was abnormally tight. We even had a name: the Celestial Dragons. We all had draconic imagery in our animas that remained in some form even when we reincarnated. We were known for working particularly closely with the Dragon-Blooded. As I recall, most circles wouldn’t be so close,” Edmond said as he took a seat.

Waters nodded and joined him at the table. “Does the name Guardians of Creation ring any bells?”

“Vaguely. Another close circle who worked on defending any gains the Chosen made, they worked closely with the Lunar exalted, closer than we usually did. Only our Dawn Caste was particularly close to a Lunar. They had an exceptionally strong bond if I recall,” Campeggio said as he struggled to dredge up the ancient memories inherent in his Exaltation.

“You seem to remember a bit more than I do, but I have you beat in one area. I’ve already found a circle mate, my circle's Eclipse is Mary Blake,” Waters said with a smug grin.

Campeggio looked confused. “Who?”

“Mary Blake, the author. You know, the ‘J.K. Rowling’ of young adult Science Fiction,” Waters said.

“Oh, yes. The Jessica North books. The ones about the astronaut exploring other worlds,” Campeggio nodded.

“Right, well, we met at a charity fundraiser a few months ago. My daughter reads my granddaughter her books, so I asked Ms. Blake if she could get me anything to impress them. She had my private number and imagine my surprise when she called and wanted to meet me last week. It seems she exalted three days before stopping a group of kidnappers from taking her own daughter. She startled me almost as much as I did you by revealing what she was. I have to say it’s more fun when you’re on the other side of the table,” Waters said with a fresh grin.

“Well, small world, I guess,” Campeggio said, taking a drink.

“Doubtful. We are the Champions of the Gods, the Army of Creation, and Heaven controls the machinations of Fate. Do you think it’s chance that you, who are so perfectly placed to link up to the Dragon-Blooded, received an exaltation that not only was known in past lives to work with the Terrestrial Exalted but also possesses a significantly more complete memory of the past? There is a purpose and a plan at work. We had better figure out what we have to do,” Waters said, his smirk fading.

“I recall we were beset by nearly unbeatable odds. The situation was desperate. There was a plan for defense to protect the world. We all worked on it but we knew it would cost us our lives. We were buying time for new defenses to be put in place. Creation could repair itself, heal the damage. I’m sorry I can’t recall details,” Edmund stated sadly

Waters moved and stared out the window, down at the busy traffic on the street. “I had a feeling we were supposed to be preparing for something. You don’t recall us defeating those enemies do you? It seems we were just driving them back and putting up a new line of defense, am I right?”

Campeggio looked up with a sigh. “No. They’re coming back too. The entire world is in danger and we have to prepare it. Damned if I know how.”

“Going to be a tough call, it seems we have home grown resistance to our goals already. We are going to have to put a stop to that fast or negotiate a truce with them,” Waters said.

Campeggio gave a snort of disgust. “They’ve tried to kill me and enslave the Dragon-Blooded. I don’t think negotiation is going to be in their nature. We should continue building power in secret. If they’ll bargain we can bargain from a position of strength. If they won’t, we will have the power to deal with them.”

“I’ve always preferred to cut a deal when I have a clear advantage. Most DAs do so,” Waters said, regaining his humor.

“I’ve never been a prosecutor and you’ve never been a defense attorney, but we have this in common: the pursuit of truth. Neither of us are known for taking cases that we’d lose. We’ve both always gone in knowing we would win. We knew that our cases were worth doing what we had to do to win, even if that meant pulling a rabbit out of our hats,” Campeggio said.

“You’ve been talking to Denny Crane. With that old scoundrel as a mentor, it’s no wonder you’ve done well. When I was younger I always wanted to go up against him.”

Campeggio smiled. “Well, I’m fairly certain this battle isn’t going to play out in the courtroom. And from the way you threw around the word “we” it sounds like you are on board with moving forward.”

“Well, it appears we have similar goals. That shouldn’t be surprising as we have similar career paths. I’ll not say I’m on board with every action you choose to take and I would assume there are things that I would do you wouldn’t care for as well.”

“I can accept similar goals and working together toward those ends if you can, Senator. How about an agreement to keep communication open and to share information. That is something we both currently need and will probably be invaluable in the future.”

I think I can agree to that. Let’s get down to business and put all our cards on the table. I want to see what we can hash out about the group or groups arrayed against us,” Waters said, pouring himself a glass of water as well.

The two sat well into the night comparing notes and memories and together began to plan out how the Exalted, both Terrestrial and Celestial could thrive.

---***---
Vault Data Security Inc.
Grand Junction Colorado
March 12th, 2012
---***---

Nicole Hart was deep at work in the center of Vault Data Security, the company she founded. While many of the Manifested represented in the unlawful imprisonment case had bought into creating M.S.I., she had decided to found her own company instead. She then sold her services to M.S.I. for stock.

Nicole valued her privacy and independence. Everyone respected that, and it was something she respected in turn. Her business was data security and the data she stored for her clients had never been breached or betrayed. Her programs and guardian routines had never been compromised. However, this was one of the few times her more ‘clandestine’ computer skills were needed. This was an emergency.

She had muted her system to the other Dragon-Blooded, annoyed at Kai's constant complaints while she looked over the plans for the house Jay Odele owned in San Francisco and pondered how best for Kai to gain entry. There were no cameras in his security, however, there was a high wall with motions sensors all over the top of the barrier. The property had very clear lines of sight due to the fact the house was completely made of glass. Odele had used this fact to get its air space restricted, citing paparazzi attempts to film his residence. While it had a phone and internet, neither was hooked to anything important.

Her analysis was disrupted when one of her watchdog programs alerted her to an anomaly. Something was accessing several of the systems around M.S.I. headquarters at once. Checking, she saw a program accessing all of the camera and surveillance information on the north side of the compound, forming a rough globe that encompassed anything that picked up data on the road outside M.S.I. that morning during a particular time index.

That’s in the time frame the bug thing escaped. Nicole thought to herself.

To her frustration, she found she could not see where the data was going. She could only see where it fed back to proxies that defied her efforts to trace further. She was quite alarmed at that. Only powerful mages and Hunter.net had security that she had ever been unable to crack. These were commonly used proxy sites, but the trail ended dead. The county computer system that displayed Jay Odele’s property survey suddenly closed. An error message popped up that she had been disconnected.

She attempted to get back in, only to find her every effort was blocked. System after system followed suit. Slightly panicked, she began to crash the proxy servers, hoping to at least buy time while her foe looked for others. As she did, her e-mail alert chimed. A message with the title “I See What You Did There” appeared in her inbox. Wary, she scanned the message for executables and other potential virus vectors. Finding only text she opened it.

Hi. I’m not sure what you're looking for, but Jay Odele is protected by his contract with our security firm. If you want to know more I’m willing to chat or e-Mail. Contact [email protected]. I’m rather curious why the world’s greatest Manifested security expert is spying on a popstar.

Nicole blinked. She decided to take the bait. Twenty minutes later she was trying to call Edmond, Kai, or Terra to share some amazing news, only to find none of the three were taking calls.

Chapter Text

---***---
Residence of Jay Odele
Muir Beach, California
March 12th, 2012
---***---

“I hate stakeouts. I am not good at them,” Kai said into the communication system in his vehicle.

This was not entirely true. While Kai had no problem with lying in wait to set up an ambush or gathering information for an assault, idly sitting with nothing to do and no way to measure his progress did not sit well with him. That, and he truly did not want to be here. This assignment annoyed him. His quarry, this crawling jewel, annoyed him. He truly wished he had the power to smash the thing and be done with this whole affair. He had already removed his radio and earpiece of his headset and laid them on the seat next to him preferring the comfort of the G63’s voice system instead. If he had to sit and wait, he would at least be comfortable.

Annoyance, it seemed, was something that was pervasive today. Nicole had disconnected her own earpiece, tired of listening to Kai’s complaining. She had advised him to keep watch and wait before taking any action. She had assured Kai by telling him that she was in the process of pulling up the floorplan of the large house so that she could guide him through the building should he need it, and sought to pull up any more information. The singer's home was impressively private despite being made of glass. It was a refuge surrounded by high walls in the back of a gated community.

This left Kai to watch in boredom as there was very little to see. He was just able to make out the roofline of the house from his position. He would not have even known it was one of those trendy glass walled houses had Nicole not informed him from looking at the plans. The structure was far back on the property and he could barely see over the high ivy covered brick walls. The decorative wrought iron gate stood lonely vigil over the drive that curved not long after to hide the house and visitors. The personal guard shack by it stood empty. In fact, the entire community was suspiciously empty.

Kai looked at the guard shack and rolled his eyes. “Who needs a guard shack in a gated community?” he thought. He supposed it was the same sort of person who built a house out of glass and then surrounded it with high walls.

The only other person that Kai had seen was the man at the front gate to the entire neighborhood. He had been all too eager to let Kai into the estate after Nicole had hacked his name onto the guest list for the day. After that, no one. Usually there were at least a few paparazzi hiding in trees around the houses of the rich and famous, even in normally ‘private’ communities such as this. However, after a little over an hour of waiting, Kai saw nothing – no people, no cars, no anything. He was, at least, grateful for that. He was famous enough for his liking without being linked with any more celebrity sycophants, and it was for want of avoiding such connections that stayed his hand more than anything.

While he waited, he listened to Valentina's occasional updates that advised him on the readiness of the incoming team. They were enroute to help in the search and were thirty minutes out. The team roster, somewhat surprisingly, included Terra which caused him some worry, but he knew she wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks in her condition. He was also informed that Angelina was going to be alright. That was some good news at least.

Less than five minutes had passed when Kai, succumbing to boredom and frustration again, sighed. Just as he was about to launch into another round of grousing, the first ‘interesting’ thing he had seen all day happened; several cars, including a limousine, pulled up to Jay Odele’s house. They pressed the intercom button and the electric gate opened.

Kai relayed the plate info to M.S.I. who quickly looked up their information. Moments later they came back and all were registered to Endron International. To Kai’s surprise, Barry Wilks, the Glass Walker werewolf, came over his radio shortly thereafter.

“Kai, we have a hit on the woman in the security footage. As it turns out, Endron are currently in a land dispute with a Native American group over land usage. Looks like the woman is named Emma Henry and has been assigned the task of conflict mediator between Endron and a Canadian Native American group known as the Assembly of First Nations to try and help resolve the conflict without a lengthy court battle.”

“What does this legal issue have to do with the tiny pop star?” Kai asked.

“I honestly don’t know, Kai,” Barry said somewhat apologetically. “They are both Canadian but beyond that I’m unsure. But Endron is a branch of Pentex, so it can’t be anything good. We’ll keep looking on our end, but at least we know her name and what she is doing in the area.”

“That is some information at least. Try to find out why this Odele cares about any of this. It makes little sense to me,” Kai said.

Barry acknowledged him and once again communications fell silent.

He was stifling another yawn when his sharp hearing picked up the faint sound of something shattering. This was quickly followed by the sounds of distant screams and gunfire. Deciding that was as good as any invitation, Kai revved up his G63 and shot forward toward the gates of Jay Odele’s property.

He hit the gate, crashing past the barrier with barely a pause. While the beautiful gates were torn violently from their concrete posts, Kai’s reinforced and modified SUV suffered only minor paint damage as it continued up the drive. At the house a battle was taking place. A limo was backing out of a huge hole in the side of the now shattered glass wall. The hole made it easy to see Jay Odele helping Emma Henry to her feet and the dangerous man who Kai now knew to be Odele’s bodyguard nearby. The hired hand was behind cover and had his weapon trained on a group of four men in suits who were inside the house and also armed with their weapons drawn.

Just outside the house, the two chauffeurs were exiting the limo they had used as a ram to smash through the glass wall of the house, and were now making their way toward the opening. Kai raced his vehicle up the long drive and spun so his door faced the scene. He opened the door and leapt out dramatically as all heads turned towards him.

“I see there is violence transpiring here. I wish to know why. Explain yourselves and your actions. Otherwise, I will be forced to subdue you all and we will wait for the authorities,” Kai ordered.

One of the chauffeurs spoke in a guttural tone. “You don’t know what you're doing, shithead, get back into your car and drive off before you make me angry,” he snarled.

“I do not think you understand your position. This is when you drop your weapons and beg for mercy,” Kai said coldly.

“No, you don’t understand how fucked you are,” the chauffeur said with a roar as he transformed into a very large, very repulsive looking werewolf. He was missing large patches of fur and what he did have looked sickly, pale, and unkempt.

Kai smiled an ugly smile. “Is that supposed to impress me? I’m sorry little cub, but you will have to do better than that. I killed your kind before I Manifested. You see, I am not some clueless American. I am from the old world and come from an old family that remembers the old ways,” he said with a smirk as he reached behind him and pulled out a long dual-edged knife. Kai’s massive hand covered the grip save the two rounded balls at the guard, but elegant nordic looking runes were easily visible as they ran down the foot long length of the silver blade.

“Now are YOU going to stand down, little puppy, or am I going to go home with a new trophy? Your hide is unsightly, but I will still kill you, skin you, and then make love to my wife on my new Garou-hide rug,” he said darkly.

The other chauffeur turned and transformed into a similarly ugly werewolf as well. Without so much as a look at each other they charged toward the gigantic Exalt.

Most opponents would flee before two Crinos war machines so they were taken by surprise as Kai charged. He led with his knife held low in his right hand while guarding his face with his left arm. He slammed into the first werewolf and planted the blade just above the groin as he deftly dodged a lunging bite aimed for his arm. Instead the beast found himself caught around the throat by Kai’s unarmed hand. The attack used Kai’s own momentum as well as that of his attacker to his advantage. The werewolf’s feet kept moving forward while his head and upper body were thrown backward by Kai’s blow. The creature’s feet left the ground as Exalt tugged upward with the knife and it sliced through werewolf flesh continuing to use the momentum of the werewolf. The cut was deep and clean and ran upward until it hit the beast’s sternum and both beast and knife were wrenched out of the Austrian’s grasp.

The second werewolf quickly followed up with an attack of his own and leapt at Kai, aiming for his throat. The sudden speed and power of his prey caused the hideous werewolf to overextend himself, however, and his claws only slashed the air narrowly missing Kai’s shoulder as his momentum carried him past his mark but only by less than a couple of meters.

Kai spun to meet this second attacker and held out his now weaponless hand. The hard shell luggage box atop his vehicle sprang open and his massive two handed warhammer came flying out, landing directly in his outstretched palm as he closed his fist around it with a sure and practiced grip. He swung the abnormally large weapon in a great downward arc as the hideously deformed wolf threw himself backwards to avoid the blow. Kai’s hammer exploded into the concrete drive, destroying a large section and sending chunks of debris in all directions.

Kai readied his weapon for another blow, but before he could strike, he saw something in his peripheral vision. With a look of pure rage clouding his face, Odele’s bodyguard rushed past the gunmen leaving his employer and Henry undefended. He surprised Kai by transforming into a much more ‘normal’ black furred werewolf. The chauffeur turned werewolf, propelling himself forward to meet this new opponent, slammed into the transformed bodyguard and the two fell away some distance and began to fight each other ferociously in a cacophony of snarls and roars.

Unwilling to step between the two Garou when neither would be thinking rationally, Kai glanced quickly at the one that he had eviscerated with his knife. It was crumpled in a heap a couple of feet away. The silver inflicted wound was not healing, and it was bleeding out of the massive wound. The wound was obviously fatal, but that did not mean the beast could not get back up and inflict more harm before finishing its death throes.

Kai decided to ensure the creature’s death on his way to the house. He casually put his foot on the fallen wolf and aimed his hammer for the still visible handle of the knife. The hammer swung downward and, like some violent parody of croquet, the knife was blasted through the wolf’s upper body. The blade emerged from the top of his skull where it stopped. The handle had not been able to follow the blade out and through the head. He cursed to himself. He was going to have to dig that knife out later. It was a family heirloom. He gave one last glance to ensure the two wolves were still fighting among themselves before he jogged inside the house. The outside fight had only taken a few seconds but in that time the pair of Odele and Henry had retreated further in the house with their assailants not far behind. He started to ask Nichole about the layout but cursed out loud when he realized in his rush to the action he’d left his communication device behind like some over enthusiastic green troop.

Having no choice but to follow in their wake, he quickly closed with the two groups finding the pair at the end of a long hall. He saw Jay Odele push the woman behind him and grab a decorative pair of paper fans from the wall. He began twirling the things about with dramatic flourish like some Asian dancer, moving them in a hypnotic way that seemed to confuse the eyes. He suddenly stopped and the large Austrian was sure the little man was about to charge his attackers. He wondered if the singer was insane.

Their assailants never gave him the chance. They fired away at close range, clearly unimpressed by his fan dance as Emma screamed in alarm. Rather than dying, however, Jay Odele deflected the bullets with the flimsy bits of folded paper.

The pop star, having dropped into a low crouch, looked over a fan and gave his attackers a dangerous looking smile. The smile was illuminated by the glowing mark on his forehead; the symbol for female or the planet Venus. Kai found it eerily similar to the brand on his lawyer’s forehead, save it was glowing blue instead of gold.

The tense moment was broken by Emma shouting in alarm yet again. She had her hands up clawing at her face. Attached to her head like some sci-fi creature, was the spider-like form of the jewel. Its legs multiplied and thickened. Tendrils of the iridescent metal shot out, wrapping her body like a cocoon.

Everyone in the house watched, transfixed by the horror of what they were seeing, despite the fact that the two parties had been intent on killing one another moments before. Even Kai had stopped to view the scene in shock. No one moved as the metal cocoon undulated. Then, all at once, the spools of wire retracted and collapsed back into the jewel.

In the place of Emma Henry was a female shape, armored in iridescent metal. The armor’s form was, other than the materials used to construct it, completely dissimilar from Campeggio’s attacker.

The men in suits, almost as one, trained their guns and fired at the newly transformed figure. Gunshots pinged off the armor and it was that sound that put Kai in motion again. But, as fast as he was, the right hand of the armored figure was quicker as it rapidly transformed. The bracer raised, extra plates slid out from under it and a tube extended in the blink of an eye. The only warning of what was to come was a brief electric whine that filled the air. The figure pointed her arm and, with a high pitched scream, a ball of shimmering energy sped out of the end of the tube. The sphere of power struck the closet attacker in the chest. He was flung backward nearly to Kai’s feet as his entire torso was nearly obliterated by the attack, which seemed to have not only an incendiary element behind it but force as well. The other attackers and even Kai leapt backwards seeking cover behind some fallen furnishings.

The figure’s stance changed to one of shock as she raised her arm to the visor that now covered her face. She was, it seemed, staring at her own weapon. Although her face was obscured, her body language made it obvious that what she had just done surprised her.

Kai sighed. That was something he had drilled into all of his fellow Manifested: never act surprised when something is going your way. It telegraphed that you had not done something intentionally and gave any enemies who saw it the idea you might not be able to repeat what you had done. The intimidation effect was a powerful ally in combat. It did, however, make Kai suspect that Emma Henry might still be in there. She might not be a brainwashed tool. If a machine was controlling the armored figure, he doubted it would make such a human gesture.

Hoping that the human inside this creature could maintain control over her actions, Kai charged the thugs with his warhammer. He saw Jay Odele do the same almost simultaneously. Kai struck the one on his right in the head in a massive downward swing as Jay’s paper fan sliced into the throat of the one to his right, cutting the flesh despite all logic. The man in the middle already had his gun trained on Emma and fired. This time she reacted in pain. She returned fire as she fell behind Odele’s bar seeking cover, but the blast missed wildly, almost hitting Jay and inflicting an equally damaging blow to the unoffending wall as it had the previous gunman.

The gunman spun around to see the damage and instead came face to face with Kai. The colossal Austrian didn’t bother to raise his hammer. Instead, a quick twist of the shoulder and wrist reversed the swing in an upward arc towards the final man's chin. Jay, seeing the incoming blow, swung his left handed fan toward the back of the man's head snapping the paper and bamboo device shut as it moved through the air. The hammer connected with the head, and the fan, again ignoring the basic laws of physics, acted as if it was made of much sterner stuff than paper and wood. The man's head exploded as if the closed fan had been an anvil for Kai’s hammer. At that, Odele’s body began to project a calming blue glow about it that contrasted with the pink, gray, and red shower that covered Kai and himself.

Kai lowered his hammer, though not his guard. He looked down at the diminutive figure before him. “What now? Are we to be friends or enemies?”

“Friends, I hope. Do you know what happened to her?” Jay Odele asked, jerking a thumb toward Emma Henry who was covering both of them with the weapon in her extended arm behind the cover of the bar.

“Yes, but it is a long story,” Kai said with a sigh. “A long, confusing, annoying story.”

Jay turned to the armored figure. “Em, you might want to put that down now. You level a weapon at someone it makes them nervous, and sweetie, when Mr. Silbern there gets nervous, people get hurt and we don’t want anyone to get hurt do we?”

His voice was hypnotic and lyrical. However, Kai thought that it was so high pitched that if the young man’s testicles were bigger than almonds, he’d eat the tires off his golf cart.

Jay’s bodyguard entered the hall. He was wounded. The clothing that had vanished with his transformation had returned. Kai knew that was no small feat of magic to manage.

“Sorry, Jay, I screwed up. I never should have run off like that, but the Spirals, man, they just... got to me,” he said.

“We’ll talk about it later, Don. Now, I want you to meet Kai Silbern,” Jay said with a wave toward the Earth Aspect. “Kai, this is Don Jansen of the Get of Fenris. Sort of my father figure around here. Emma, you feel like coming out from behind the bar?” Jay turned back to Kai and smiled. “That’s Emma Henry. She’s a real sweetie. You’ll like her I’m sure.”

Kai blinked, nonplussed. “You are taking all of this far too well,” he said suspiciously.

“He sees the future, so not much surprises him,” Don said.

“Oh, no, that’s not it at all. None of this was foreseen. I just don’t see much of a reason to freak out. I mean what is it going to help really?” Jay asked.

Emma rose and her body language slowly eased. Suddenly the armor plates covering her body began shifting and folding under each other. The plates retracted in a way that once again defied the conservation of mass, vanishing into nothingness and folding over without increasing in thickness, until, at last, all of the armor sank back into the ring of rainbow metal surrounding the gemstone in Emma's forehead. The gem itself promptly sank, as if in liquid, into her flesh completely vanishing from sight. She was left in only the clothes with which she was originally wearing.

Emma felt her forehead once again. She immediately began to panic once more. “What the hell is going on!?”

Kai spoke first. “Do you want the truth or a comforting lie?”

Emma Henry was a grounded lady. She was only in her early twenties but was professional and was excellent at her job as a negotiator. She enjoyed a good book and a good movie almost as much as closing a difficult deal. Before her stood a massive man with a hammer roughly the size of Montana, a popstar glowing blue, and four dead bodies, one of which was of her doing. The room spun and she wanted to pass out, but as Jay had said, what would it really help? She choked down the bile building up in the back of her throat. “The truth please,” she said with resolution.

“You have received a power similar to our own Manifestation. It seems to be artificially created and controlled by a cabal of shadowy figures bent on complete domination of the world. They are the ones responsible for the initial imprisonment of my kind and they seek to harm us to this day in retaliation for daring to defy their will. Now that you have this power, they will stop at nothing to either kill you and retrieve it or control you completely turning you into an obedient slave to their will. I can offer you our protection, our help in discovering what your powers can do, and our aid in eventually stopping these people so everyone they seek to control can live free,” Kai said emphatically.

Emma blinked. “What?”

Jay Odele laughed. It sounded like tinkling bells. Kai glowered at the tiny young man for ruining the effect of his speech.

“We should go quickly to Manifested Services. There is much about your power that is unknown. The sooner we can administer some tests, the sooner we can be sure there is no way the enemy can trace your power. It is also prudent to make sure your health is not at risk,” Kai said, extending his hand in what he hoped was a friendly gesture.

“Right, well, I should have figured this was going to end with a ‘come with me if you want to live’ speech. You even have the look and accent down perfectly!” she quipped wrapping herself in sarcasm to avoid crying. Then she sighed and her shoulders shook. She looked at Jay with unshed tears in her eyes. “What do you think, Jay?” she asked calmly. It was a plea really and Jay picked up on it. She was scared; terrified even. She had been violated and violence surrounded her.

“Sounds like a great idea. Don’t worry, Em, we’ll come with you,” Jay said

“Are you sure? I mean that’s the heart of Glass Walker territory there, Jay,” Don said, with caution in his voice.

“We’ll be fine, Don, we were going to end up there eventually. This just speeds up the timeline some. Everything will work out,” Jay said confidently.

“Good. I have many questions for you as well, little man,” Kai said.

“Excellent. We’ll talk on the way. Some of the ladies in the helicopter can drive your car back. I hope you have pictures of your adorable little daughter to share,” Jay said brightly.

“Heli... ohh….” Kai said as he heard the helicopter in the distance. He put his hand to his ear and then furrowed his brow in disgust at his missing headset. Holding up his finger to Odele and bodyguard, Kai walked out of the room and outside with his hammer over his shoulder. He looked up as the helicopter drew closer and waved reassuringly at the pilot.

---***---
Onboard the Helicopter
---***---

Terra clung tightly to her chair. She eyed the way Valentina stood right up against the open side of the large helicopter with unease. Terra envied the casual grace she displayed and the complete lack of fear on her face, despite the great height and the lack of barrier between her and the distant ground. They each had their strengths. Although Terra was jealous of Valentina’s defiance in the face of gravity, Valentina was not comfortable in an operating room.

The roar of the AgustaWestland AW101 engines was incredibly distracting with the door open. Although the other members of the assault team were used to it, Terra struggled to hear what they were saying over her earpiece which resided under more hearing protection muffs.

The pilot’s voice came over the comms. “Wheel’s down, one minute,” and the call and hand signals were repeated and passed around the cabin.

“Oh, I’m not going to let him live this down,” Maria Santiago suddenly said in a voice filled with laughter.

Terra leaned forward as a gust of wind threw her blossom filled hair about in a wild tangle. “What? What happened?”

“The way he’s waving, he’s left his headset in the car. He dove headfirst into a combat situation without it. He would chew us out for a week for that mistake,” Valentina explained.

Terra quirked her head. “How do you know it wasn’t broken in the battle?”

“Because we’re still getting a signal from it,” Valentina smiled as she turned a pad to show Terra. “I know exactly what he did.”

“Now that is funny,” Terra said. “Yes, I don’t think we should let him forget it.”

“Wheel’s down. Thirty seconds,” came the pilot’s voice again and everyone braced for landing.

The helicopter landed on Odele’s large open lawn and disgorged the small platoon of Manifested women that were in the security services arm of M.S.I.

Terra checked her own sidearm and data pad. She waited until the others were all out before she walked down the stairs out of the helicopter. Her second pregnancy had just begun and so was unburdened by the awkward and off-balancing weight gain which was soon to come. She saw Valentina speaking to a large man she did not know. As she approached she heard part of a conversation in progress.

“....what about the bodies?”

“Don’t worry. I have friends who will take care of that. I’ve already called them,” the large man said.

Terra scanned the area for Kai. He was never hard to find, even in a crowd. She quickly found him and noticed he had his headset in his hand. She watched as he quickly put the device on. As soon as he did, Terra’s pad sounded an alert chime. The built-in biomonitor showed Kai was fine. The blood covering him must have been someone else's.

Her mind more at ease, Terra spoke up as she approached the man whom Valentia was interviewing. “Is any of that blood yours?” She gestured to the large man’s gore splashed form.

“Some, but I’ll be fine. I’m a werewolf,” the large man said.

“Hold still,” Terra said as she touched the man. “You fought other werewolves, yes?”

He flinched at her touch but he did not recoil. He then nodded slowly.

“I know the injuries inflicted by the claws and teeth of other werewolves don’t heal like normal injuries. Take your shirt off. I’ll clean and bind the wounds before you break them back open,” Terra said.

“Look after Jay first,” he said simply.

Terra looked up and pointed to the woman talking to the other blood covered figure.

“Juanita is a battlefield medic. If he needed help she’d already be working on him,” she said, indicating the other Wood Aspect.

“Oh, well, alright then,” the wolf said.

Terra reopened, cleaned, and then bandaged the various cuts and punctures on the werewolf. They, fortunately, were not that bad. Terra thought he must have been an excellent fighter to escape such a fight with so few injuries. Eyeing the two other dead wolves in the drive. She believed she knew why their enemy had brought two of their own to face him. Her thoughts were interrupted by Kai who nonchalantly walked up to one of the fallen beasts and casually split its head like an overripe melon with his hammer.

He caught the surprised and quizzical look on her face as he stooped over the remains. “My apologies. I had to get my knife back,” He said as he removed a gore soaked object from the mangled mess. Terra recognized it as Kai’s silver hunting knife.

“Oh...so you killed…?”

“Yes, wife, I killed this one. However, he killed the second,” Kai said simply gesturing at Jay Odele’s bodyguard.

Terra nodded. She then changed the subject. “What happened to the jewel?”

“It is in the female now,” Kai said, gesturing at Emma Henry, who was speaking to some of the other Manifested women. “It seems she can control the power it grants. I think we need to get her back to the labs for a few tests for her own safety. The pop star is another new type of Manifested or ‘Exalt’ as the lawyer refers to them.”

Terra turned to look at Jay Odele in detail for the first time. He was much smaller than she would have thought from the few times she had seen him on T.V. or in a magazine. He was most likely the prettiest male she had ever seen. He had let his pale gold hair grow out which was put in a skillfully done French twist to give it the illusion of being a boy’s cut. Terra had seen him in one of his last interviews before his previous album bombed, he still had a pixie cut. The pictures also didn't do his eyes credit. They were almost a luminescent crystal blue. The overall effect of his beauty was somewhat marred by the fact he was covered in gore. Nevertheless, his forehead was also aglow, much like Campeggio’s and a soft blue aura surrounded him that was fading quickly. Terra made a mental note of the shape and nodded.

She walked over to the star who was, by now, sitting peacefully under a gazebo. “Once I’m sure your wolf is alright we can leave,” she said as Kai and Valentina walked over to join her.

“We can’t leave your wagon, Kai, you’ll need to drive back,” Valentina said.

An uneasy look washed across Kai’s face.

“No, I’ll drive. I would rather have Kai on the helicopter,” Terra said. “Just in case something goes wrong,” she added with a meaningful look in the direction of Emma.

Terra knew why Kai looked so uncomfortable. He had no problem with Terra riding in the helicopter. He trusted her, the pilot, and the team around her. However, this woman and the jewel she bore, not to mention the little pop star and his bodyguard, were all unknowns. If their enemies could suddenly take control of the girl, the ride to the base could be dangerous. She knew, in such a situation, Kai would want to be on hand to end the threat. She also knew that he would want her and their unborn child well away from harm. For the most part, Terra shared his misgivings. Her original plan was to have the jewel contained in the new more secure device she had been working on in the labs. After that, Kai would drive it back with Valentina riding shotgun. Now, that was no longer an option.

Kai nodded looking relieved. He knew Terra had understood his thoughts on the matter. Valentina, having grown used to the way the two were in harmony when they were not arguing, simply shrugged.

“Alright team, Kai is coming with us. See that all three passengers are secure,” Valentina ordered.

Terra watched the odd assortment begin to load into the helicopter. She climbed inside Kai’s wagon, cranked the engine, and started down the drive. She carefully rolled over the debris from the damaged gate and turned onto the street just as the aircraft flew overhead headed home.

About half an hour into her three hour drive back to the compound, Terra’s phone began to ring. Unwilling to answer it while she was driving, she shut the device off. She was then startled by the sudden loud and operatic heavy metal ringtone of Kai's phone blasting through the vehicle's speaker system. She spun the volume knob counter-clockwise until the volume was at a more acceptable level before she slowed her heart rate, rolled her eyes, and muttered a few choice statements she vowed she would would repeat to her husband very soon including leaving one of their secured phones in his vehicle while he waded into a battle. The music stopped but it was only a few moments until it started again. Being unfamiliar with Kai’s instrument panel, not to mention that it was, of course, set to German, she flicked a few switches at random to try to silence the device.

The phone stopped, but she inadvertently tripped the stereo system while pressing buttons. It began speaking to her in German. She sighed heavily at the annoying situation and reached for the volume knob again to turn it all the way down when the German speaker stopped and someone started speaking in her native language of Malay.

“How much are these?” The voice asked.

The German started again. Afterward the Malay voice returned. “I will take five of those please,” it said.

Curious, Terra pulled over and toyed with the instruments until she managed to change the language to English. The stereo display showed the playback was from the onboard storage device. It was playing a downloaded file: Beginning Malay for Germans.

“My stupid, sweet husband,” Terra said with a laugh.

Her good humor was ruined when Kai’s phone began to ring for the third time. Searching the car she finally found the phone itself and answered. “What! What is it?” She barked, her temper getting the better of her.

“Terra? Where’s Kai? Nevermind! I’ve been trying to get you, Kai, or Mr. Campeggio. Well, anyone, really! I found another one,” Nicole excitedly rambled on the other end of the phone.

“Another what?” Terra asked, in no mood to play guessing games.

“Solar exalt,” Nicole excitedly cried as if the answer should have been obvious.

Terra sighed again. This was proving to be a most unusual day. And it promised to be a long one too.

---***---
Technocratic Research and Storage: Facility Eight
Mount Erebus, Antarctica
March 13, 2012
---***---

Claus Rayner, hands clasped behind his back, stepped into the cargo elevator. He executed a military about face with a dancer’s grace and looked back at John Dugan.

“Aren’t you going down with me to the Pit, John?” Claus asked.

“I should monitor you from here, sir. The primary subject should be watched by an observer during any interaction.”

“Don’t quote the rules to me, John, I wrote those procedures. They’re to keep fools out of trouble. So long as you know what you’re doing, Adam is harmless,” Claus chided him.

“Sir, perhaps you’re too familiar with the subject,” John said a bit tentatively.

Claus looked calmly at the younger man. “What are you suggesting, John?”

John had worked with Director Rayner for many years now. In all that time, he had learned only two immutable facts about the man: he was not one to cross, and there was no reading him. In the instant it took to evaluate the situation, John decided he respected the man far too much to not share his concerns with his superior.

“I’m only suggesting that your objectivity might be compromised, sir. Your admiration for the Jadeborn, your tone of obvious respect for the Prime Subject...I think you might be over humanizing them. In the end they are tools. If we get too close, it might be hard to use them, or to ask them to do the things we will have to send them to do,” John said.

Claus let out a long sigh and exited the elevator with a smile and a nod. He put his hand on John's shoulder. John tightened up eyeing his mentor nervously.

“John, you don’t have anything to fear. I’m not angry with you for your observation. Indeed, I'm proud of your ability to assess the situation. It just makes me realize how young you are,” Claus said motioning for John to sit down at a workstation. The military-like rigidity flowed out of Claus as he relaxed, leaning on the wall. He was obviously mentally preparing his next statement.

“If you want people to fight for you, John, you have to treat them with a certain due level of respect. Treating subordinates as subhuman is fundamentally flawed. Contempt breeds contempt. You must treat people with the respect they are due. Anyone with the power to defeat a foe that you do not feel is trivial is worthy of respect. Anything above pest control is worthy of respect. The only underlings you should dare to have contempt for are those that are so truly below you that you need never fear any power they have or should gain,” Claus explained.

John thought about what Claus was saying. “This rule, the way you stated it. This holds for people.”

“Yes, John. It doesn’t matter if I think of the Jadeborn as human. It will not stop me from sacrificing their lives for a worthy goal because I would do the same to men. Yes, even men I care about.” He looked at his favorite pupil with a flat stare. “Even you,” he said with an emotionlessness that sent a shiver down John’s spine.

“A general who can’t send his troops off to die is as worthless as one who treats his troops as untermensch. You are going to have to find that balance. Everyone who goes through a war must. I was lucky. I learned it early in the Franco-Prussian War. I watched good friends butchered. I’ve watched wars grind on, becoming bloodier and bloodier. It is the worst way to solve a problem. I’ve always viewed having to resort to open war as a sign of fundamental failure. We must, however, prepare for such failure. If I must, to free humanity from the parasites that infest it, I will send Jadeborn, men, women, even friends to their death. I expect no less of you. If this comes to war and I fall, you must carry on at all costs,” Claus said with a fatherly sternness.

At that he stood and strode into the open elevator pushing the button. “I’ll go on alone. You think on things a bit,” he said as the elevator closed between the two. Dugan was left alone with only his thoughts and his reflection in the brushed metal door.

Claus descended into the Pit; a seemingly innocuous stone chamber with a mudpit in the center. This was where the being Claus had named ‘Adam’ lived. He had found the creature when excavating this base. The situation had been tense initially, but battle gave way to negotiation. Negotiation, in turn, gave way to growing civility, and, from that, a grudging friendship formed. Claus mustered his own mental reserves of energy as the elevator stopped and he stepped off onto an opened aired platform at the bottom.

Adam was powerful but fragile. He had been hurt repeatedly. He claimed the world, like himself, had been injured. He also claimed that he was intrinsically linked to the Earth in such a manner that its injuries had worsened his own. Claus had discovered, through their conversations, that the right transfers of power could supplement Adam’s own slowly growing reserves, allowing him greater activity.

Claus projected power into the mud and it began to reshape itself. A fifteen foot tall vaguely humanoid form emerged from the ground. At the head, the mud split and two perfect sapphire blue human eyes looked out into the chamber.

“Augustin, my old friend. It has been a while,” the creature said in a deep, baritone voice that seemed as old as the world itself.

“Too long, Adam. News of the outside world is grimmer than ever, but your children are learning. They are becoming swift of mind and strong of arm. They have yet to fight but we continue to prepare. You warned me before that a conflict is coming. Have you anything more to say about it? Have any more memories come back to you of the time before that might aid our cause?” Claus inquired.

“It is hard to reach back. There is so much pain. So much death. The cataclysm I spoke of was nearly the world's end,” Adam said gravely.

“Yes. I have something that might help. Look at this. I found it in Autochthon. It is plans for making a being out of enchanted clay. It also details how to give such a creature bones of forged bronze and how to implant weapons of power within its form. I think this is what was meant to be used with the power cores we repurposed. If we used similar technology with you, however....” Claus said, trailing off.

“Healing. A healing might be possible,” Adam said as a ripple flowed through his unstable form.

“Yes! Yes, my friend. Read these. Work on this for a while. I will stay the day and help you. Perhaps we can render you more mobile. You could lead your children yourself,” Claus said optimistically.

The ancient being, forged by Primordial hands labored to help in the translation and adjustment of the design. All through the night the pair worked. While the work was worlds from complete the creature fell back into its rest with a feeling it had not had in eons; hope. Hope for its own future.

Chapter Text

---***---
Campeggio, Schmit & Lewiston
Washington D.C. Office
March 13th, 2012
---***---

If one were to work for Campeggio, Schmidt & Lewiston long enough, one might think that Edmond Campeggio was the living embodiment of the workaholic. The staff would often humorously mention Joe Walsh's famous lyrics:

I have a mansion / Forget the price.
Ain't never been there / They tell me it's nice.

While this was not literally true, the occasional party or week-long stay was all the ‘living’ Edmond Campeggio’s Florida home saw. Much like the singer/songwriter, he lived in hotels and typically favored exclusive lodgings near each of his firm’s offices. When he was needed in some other part of the world, he would pack his belongings and move to another hotel.

Sometimes even that did not suffice. Edmond was known, at times, to work either so late or come in so early that each major office had been renovated to include facilities, not only for Campeggio himself, but also some generic living space for the unfortunate staffers who were compelled to remain on duty to accommodate their boss’s workaholic nature.

It was during these renovations that each office's security was heightened with the very best equipment money could buy. Special permits had been procured and certified work crews were hired to surreptitiously install security systems normally reserved for government buildings. The system was integrated to be as unobtrusive as possible. During the process Manifested inventors, such as Dr. Patel, had improved security further with wondrous devices that stretched the limits of what could be classified as ‘science,’ even under the psionic heading.

Edmond Campeggio had stayed up quite late the previous evening conferring with Senator Waters. Even after the Senator departed, he did not sleep. Instead, he spent the remainder of the night leafing through a seemingly endless stream of documents covering aspects of the supernatural world that he had requested from his contacts in Louisiana over the previous months. While their collective wealth of knowledge was appreciated, he had to skimp on sleep in order to read through it all.

It wasn’t just the reading. He was a fast reader and adept at absorbing large quantities of data. It was the processing of that information that was taxing. What he was learning was important and his mind needed time to catalog and compartmentalize. Between werewolves, vampires, mages, and hunters as well as all of their different cliques and what roles they played in the world at large, it wasn’t uncommon for him to be on the verge of pulling his hair out in frustration at the end of each night.

To his eyes, there was so much potential in the supernatural community and so much of it was being wasted in all but a few bubbles such as New Orleans. When the Dragon-Blooded and the other Exalted were thrown into the mix, he found himself wanting to beat his desk in impotent fury. And it was at that point when he would remind himself that impotent rage had no purpose and it was up to him to find a way to make it potent. He would then seek the comfort of sleep hoping to solve the world’s problems in his sleep. The trouble was the morning always came too soon and often presented new problems to heap upon the old.

What sleep he had managed to get after his latest lesson in the supernatural was had in the small suite installed beside his office. He had been too exhausted to return to his hotel. It was in the midst of this rejuvenating rest that his eyes shot open. He wondered what had awoken him from such a sound sleep. His alarm was not chiming. He felt the bedside table for his phone to check the time. When he could not feel the phone where he knew it should be, he sat bolt upright.

In the near complete darkness, he was able to make out a humanoid figure seated in the corner of the room. He scrambled to the side of his bed, going for the gun in his drawer. Adrenaline coursed through his body and his heart thumped against his chest making his movements unsteady. As he fumbled with the drawer, the shadowy form slowly lifted its arm and flicked on the lightswitch near the door. The sudden influx of light lanced through the lawyer’s widened pupils and he shielded his eyes by squinting. Instead of another armored assassin, as Edmond had feared, there was a man sitting in the only chair in the room dressed in navy blue slacks and a white long sleeved dress shirt calmly watching the frantic lawyer tear apart his furniture for his firearm.

“Neither your phone nor your gun are there. Your security systems are offline,” the man said in a low reassuring voice. “Relax, you are currently in no danger. Had I wanted to kill you, I would have done so an hour ago when I first walked in. I only want a conversation. While you were sleeping I took the liberty of sweeping the room for bugs and turned on a white noise generator. Just in case. It is likely what woke you up. Sorry to disturb you like that.”

Edmond blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Who the hell are you?!”

“You may call me Jonathan Cole. It isn’t my first name, nor will it be my last. I had a ‘falling out’ with my previous employers and so I have abandoned my former name and identity. I am here to apply for a job,” he said.

Edmond’s eyes, finally adjusting to the light, unsquinted. “You couldn’t go through HR?”

The intruder gave a bemused smirk. “No. I don’t think that would be wise. You see, I possess an unusual power. I’m one of a small group of people who have a power greater than the Manifested. We are called: The Exalted,” Cole said dramatically igniting a golden ring castemark.

Edmond blinked slowly. The fear ebbed from him and a sort of giddiness took over as his mind caught up with the situation, and, as many are prone to do when fear for their life had passed, he nearly doubled over with laughter. Jon stared, dumbfounded. He wondered what had provoked this response. Edmond looked up at Jon and only laughed harder at the confusion on his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just that finding a Night Caste in my office is not that impressive anymore. Just yesterday I had a Twilight in here and almost a month ago I became an Eclipse,” Edmond said, igniting his own caste mark in imitation of Cole’s display.

“You certainly know how to take the wind from someone's sails,” Jon said with a frown.

“Terribly sorry to disappoint you. It seems we are meant to find each other. If you were a few days earlier, I’m sure it would have been a more impressive and dramatic reveal,” Edmond explained with empathy for the show gone awry.

Edmond searched the now disarrayed contents of his bedside table drawer for a few moments and found his watch. “It seems four hours is just going to have to be enough sleep. Come on, we'll get some breakfast. You can tell me about yourself; who you are other than a Night Caste, some other names you’ve held, and then I’ll get a shower and we can talk business.”

“That sounds fair. Does the fact that your security was defeated so easily not scare you?” Jon asked.

“It absolutely terrifies me, my friend, but the Dragon-Blooded are doing what they can to help fix that,” Edmond said in a surprisingly jovial tone as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stood up and stretched before picking up a robe from the back of a chair and tying it about his body.

“I have to admit, I didn’t think you’d be taking this all so well so quickly. You have a rare talent for pushing fear aside to carry on. I’ve found that very useful in the past. I have a feeling I’m going to like you,” Jon admitted.

“Glad to know that, Jon. With the way you crept in here despite the best mundane and magical security, I think you and I will get along just fine. I happen to have some uses for someone like you,” Edmond replied with an earnest smile.

---***---
Manifested Services Incorporated Compound
Fresno, California
---***---

Jay Odele had taken a shower the previous night to wash the blood and brains away and one of the women of M.S.I. had loaned him a pair of clean scrubs that fit his small frame. By the time everyone was cleaned it was late and Terra was still on her way back to the compound with more urgent messages so it was decided that it was best to go ahead and sleep and that answers could wait until the morning. It took only a little persuasion from the pop star to convince Emma Henry that hastily installed cameras inside the rooms were for her safety and it was perfectly reasonable to have someone keeping an eye on the rooms given what had happened at his own home.

Jay slept surprisingly well and the morning found him seated on a loveseat in an informal meeting room. It looked similar to a hospital visitor lounge; Terra’s influence, he was sure, with a long board table in the center and several different kinds of seats along its length. He was busily brushing out his hair. Unbound, his wealth golden strands came to the middle of his back. As he worked, he hummed a tune. It was an unfinished song he worked on when he had a spare moment.

The door opened and Don strode in the room. Behind Don came Terra Allani-Silbern, and following her, the looming physical presence of Kai.

“I’m sure you all have quite a few questions,” Jay began.

“Many. Start with what was going on at your stupid glass house,” Kai demanded, getting straight to business.

Jay Odele hopped to his feet. He balled his fists and put them on his hips. He looked squarely up at Kai. “Stupid? Stupid! The house is designed to provide a beautiful and tranquil panorama of the oriental themed gardens around it. The koi ponds, the bamboo, it’s all arranged to provide an artistic feast for the eyes uninterrupted by walls. Even the outer wall is carefully designed to be part of the view,” he explained in an irritated fashion.

“You will have to forgive me. I was too busy killing people to notice, but it still sounds stupid. If you wanted a view, why not natural surroundings. You are wealthy. Have a retreat in the mountains or something.” Kai sarcastically shot back.

“The mountains? Are you serious? Who has the time to leave the city?” Jay asked.

“Off topic, everyone. Let's get back to the subject at hand,” Terra admonished, pushing her husband toward a comfortable looking chair and taking a seat herself. “What were you doing?”

“Don and I set a trap,” Jay said with a shrug before hopping back into his own seat. “Those men were going to kill Em and her fate had not run its course. So we lured everyone to my place. I’m a Canadian citizen, Em is meditating on the Canadian land usage deal between the First Nations and Endron. I asked them to meet her and try to work something out before I joined the protests against Endron which could have drawn a lot of media attention. At first, it would have been my celebrity status. Then they would have dug further, the media would have discovered the link between me and Endron. I basically carefully gathered the group to start a controlled bonfire,” Jay explained.

“How is there a link between you and Endron?” Terra asked, purposefully skirting the idea this effeminate former child pop star had orchestrated a murder.

“The studio to which he was contracted, Hip Productions, is owned by Pentex,” Kai supplied. “Endron has the same parent company. Barry did some research while I was waiting in the car.”

“If you worked for Pentex then how are you friends with a werewolf? That company has been their mortal enemy for as long as it has existed,” Terra asked.

“Long story, but the short version is that Don was my stepfather’s brother. He never knew Don was a werewolf. When a werewolf scouting mission found out Hip Productions was riddled with sexual predators that preferred young targets, he tried to warn his brother and my mother that I was in danger.”

“They already knew,” Don interrupted. He was the only one not seated and still stood by the door. “The bastards didn’t want to lose the sudden influx of wealth and fame. They encouraged Jay to be nice to the people that were helping him become famous,” he spat with contempt dripping from his voice.

“What?!” Terra exclaimed.

“You killed them of course,” Kai said flatly.

“Of course. I killed them both and was about to go on the run with Jay. He came up with another plan,” Don said grimly, nodding at the small singer.

“I had learned how to play along with the sick bastards. It made them less abusive,” Jay said. “It also made them keep me around. They’d ignore me. You see, to them I was tame. They’d talk to each other like I was a pet that couldn’t understand what they were saying. I had learned a lot and not just about Hip Productions. They would meet with other Pentex operatives. They would get Hip to leverage celebrities into helping them twist public opinion.”

“He asked to keep playing along. He’d listen then would tell me everything he overheard. Jay was the Garou nation's best deep cover operative. For eight years he fed info from the heart of Pentex to us. Information that helped us hunt them.” Don admitted.

“And you let him!? He was being abused! You let him continue to be used by those...those...monsters!?” Terra yelled as she stood.

“NO! Don’t blame him. I wanted to hurt them back to reclaim some power. I was the one in control. They weren’t abusing me anymore. I was using them. Countless lives have been improved because of it. I’ve provided the information to stop a lot of Pentex plots and dangerous schemes,” Jay explained.

Terra made a rather uncouth noise and opened her mouth to say more. From the look on her face she was preparing a scathing rebuttal aimed at Don, but Kai jumped in, cutting her off. “What stopped you from spying? It is obvious that it has ended. If you were still undercover you would not have planned such a blatant move as assassinating their agents?” he asked. It seemed it was his turn to put the interview back on track.

Terra seethed. Her face was red with indignation and she folded her arms under her chest, shooting Kai a look that spoke volumes before sitting again. She hated to admit it, but he was right, she needed to let this story be told regardless of how she felt about those that let it happen. But it didn’t mean she would forget or Kai wasn’t going to get an ear full later, even though he had nothing to do with it.

“I aged out,” Jay continued. “I look young but I’m twenty-three. Hip makes records aimed at tweens and teens. Once you hit a certain age as a male popstar, being in front of crowds of little girls who are screaming their heads off in excitement stops being cute and becomes creepy. Females don’t have that problem. No one thinks it odd for little boys to obsess over a grown woman,” Jay admitted.

“The executives decided it was time. He was a dead end. His last two albums fulfilled his contract. Neither had good sales and they are not renewing. Given their own secrets to hide, they couldn’t very well let him get out from under their thumb and turn the public spotlight on them,” Don stated.

“So your role as a spy ended. Then you came into these new powers,” Kai assumed.

“Very true. I was working on a new album in my private studio. It’s just a little something I would self publish. I thought about all those lives out there being crushed. I tried to put together something that would give people hope. I wished I could write songs so powerful they would help open people's eyes to how the world didn’t have to be a place where the strong crushed the weak. They just came to me; powers, memories, a knowledge of things. It seemed so natural but then it was natural. Such was fate's course,” Jay stated.

“Fate’s course?” Terra asked.

“That’s what we Sidereal Exalted are -- the chosen of Fate. We are destined to be what we are. We see fate and, with effort, we can work in alterations to its pattern like I did today. I encouraged everyone else in my neighborhood to find something else to do away from their homes rather than be around where we planned to have a battle.”

“You can work magic that will affect areas or whole groups of people at once?” Kai asked.

“Yes.”

“Then why not simply manipulate fate to have these people meet you in the desert and ambush them?” Kai asked.

“It’s not quite that easy. Manipulating fate isn’t mind control. It’s much easier to get people to perform insignificant tasks closer to their own nature like paying a bill early or going out shopping with a friend than it is to get naturally suspicious people to meet you in the middle of the desert for an obvious ambush,” Jay answered sarcastically.

“Wait. Let’s get back to fate. You say you’re fated from birth to be what you are. Is that like seeing the future? Could you use this ability to find others like you?” Terra asked.

“Well yeah, I mean of course. We already have,” Jay stated.

“You have!? Then why have you not come to us before now?” Kai asked with exasperation.

“The timing wasn’t right. It still isn't, really. But with the changes to fate we have to wing it sometimes.”

“The timing? Is this some sort of fate thing? How can you say destiny is a real thing if something can happen that was not fated?” Kai demanded.

“Fate’s not a manuscript with every moment of your life planned out. That is just way too much work for anyone, even gods. Fate is like the ‘CliffsNotes’ version of your life; guide posts to keep things on track. On top of that, the more powerful the magic you wield, the less you fit into fate's plan and the more it starts to plan around you rather than through you. You, Terra, the other Dragon-Blooded... I assume your lawyer had shared that name….” Jay said, suddenly stopping.

“He has,” Terra said, impatiently wanting him to continue.

“The moment you exalted you stopped being moved by fate and became movers who change fate. Very little about your lives is destined anymore. You’re improv actors in a scripted show and everything you do has to be worked into the script. The parts that are planned out are in a constant state of revision as you do the unexpected. The moment you Exalt, however, is so enormous that huge changes occur and we can see it.” Jay paused and looked at the faces of those around him. It wasn’t going as planned, but well enough he decided to share more than he had originally been willing. “Yes, that means we see Exaltations happening. They’re blinding as a flash bulb. But so much changes so quickly that the subject can be easily lost,” Jay continued.

“Who are these gods over fate? How do they relate to the spirits the werewolves call upon? Every question you answer raises many more,” Terra said, becoming more exasperated.

Jay sighed to himself. He did so hate playing school teacher. If this had only happened when it was supposed to, things would have gone much easier. Still, he didn’t dare show any sign of being perturbed. Too much was riding on this meeting, and they were, after all, legitimate questions.

“The gods are spirits, but more powerful than the sort you’d find running around so close to Earth. The Celestial Exalted are empowered by the most powerful of these gods, the Celestial Incana, each of whom are a key component of existence as we know it. Sol Invictus, for example, is the incarnation not only of the Sun but of excellence and skill. Luna, the many faced, is not only the Moon, but the incarnation of change and adaptation. They empower the Solar and Lunar exalted. We Sidereals are empowered by the Five Maidens of Fate. As individuals, we are more attuned to a specific Maiden, but we can use the powers of all five. They are represented by the classical five planets: Mercury the Maiden of Journeys, Venus the Maiden of Serenity, who happens to be my patron,” Jay said, stopping to reignite his caste mark and wave up at it. “Then there is Mars the Maiden of Battles, Jupiter the Maiden of Secrets and Saturn the Maiden of Endings. There may be others, but the ones I named are the only ones worth remembering,” Jay said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“So you know our lawyer is Exalted, as you say, and there are gods which have some sort of fate planned. Very well. I would like very much to hear what these gods have in store for me,” Kai demanded.

“Damned if I know. It’s too big to put together even for all of us Sidereal,” Jay said. Kai continued to look skeptical, but Jay pressed on, unperturbed by the giant’s scowl. “Look, we’ve been working, all one hundred of us. This plan is huge. What’s worse is with all the exaltations, the plan is having to be continually rewritten. Fate is being pulled around so fast it’s causing massive tears that we have to go mend. It seems to be part of our primary purpose. That’s exactly what we were doing today. Em was not supposed to die. I had to save her to put fate back on track,” Jay told those assembled.

“What happens if it goes off track?” Terra asked.

“The basic laws of nature break down. Causality, gravitation, spatial orientation, relativity -- it all starts to go haywire. If fate suffers enough damage the chaos the world was forged from begins to reassert itself. Too much damage and life itself would be impossible,” Jay resolutely stated.

“He has to leap from place to place fixing what Fate says has gone wrong, hoping with each leap the next will allow him to leap home,” Don paraphrased with a crooked smile.

Terra shook her head. She was in no mood for humor. The joke was lost on Kai who resumed questioning Jay.

“So there are one hundred of you, but they are conveniently tied up and unable to assist us. If this is true, what good are you to anyone?”

“First off, we’re kind of the maintenance techs of the world, so, you know, you’re welcome. Making sure the world continues to work seems like it might be useful to a few people as a lot of us keep our things here. Secondly, the Celestial Exaltations will pass. Each will find a host and that sort of giant change, as well as reactions to work around those changes, will stop. When that happens we all should have much more time on our hands. It shouldn’t take too long. There are less than a thousand celestial Exalted and over a third of those have found hosts. Our loose estimate is we should be done with that around the first quarter of next year.”

Kai nodded. He didn’t look completely convinced and didn’t appreciate the snark, but Jay pressed on.

“Thirdly, we will start to have more time on our hands as we learn more about our powers. Understanding how Fate works and how we can bend it are not easy subjects. We’ve had to compare notes and scrap together every bit we’ve remembered as a group to even start working on that. Now that we are working with fate, we are learning lessons about it and updating each other.

“Lastly, while we might be busy, we will help where we can. We have already collated the flashes of memory for all of our kind, so we have information there. We see things in fate. As we travel the world fixing problems, we will find out more information as we move about in important places. By default, unimportant places don’t have important fates and thus usually don’t have issues in the first place.

“But advice is our most powerful tool. We can send you information easily enough. It’s something you’re all in desperate need of right now.” He stood and walked over to a bag of his bloody clothes and fished a thumb drive from a pocket. “This isn’t finished, but here is a flash drive we were working on. I was going to bring it to you in a few weeks,” Jay said, passing the object to Terra before retaking his seat.

Terra took the drive. “What is this?”

“That is a program that tracks the stars. It will show the remaining locations of the last few dozen Dragon-Blooded who will Exalt. With that, you can quickly find them and bring them in,” Jay explained. “More than half of them are in the US, but there are a few abroad.”

Terra blinked. “The last of us?”

“Until your daughter turns seven, yes,” Jay said with sympathy.

“You know for a fact our children can gain Manifested... Exalted powers?” Kai asked excitedly.

“Yes. All of them will. Be careful, however. As long as your bloodlines remain pure you will all exalt. Mixing your bloodlines with unexalted humans will dilute the Dragon’s Gifts. So long as pure lines exist, it shouldn’t be a problem, but we think it contributed to the eventual extinction of the Dragon-Blooded. This time, it seems, you have a much stronger clustering instinct.”

“That fits with our own theories,” Terra said quietly. Her thoughts drifted to one of her fellow captives, Ashley, and the problems at home with which she struggled. She had not followed Kai’s advice to vanish into the wilderness. Most of the Dragon-Blooded had been single, but she was a wife and mother. She went back for her children and was recaptured. Ashley had remained imprisoned until the legal battle freed all the Manifested. Once home, she had noticed how, despite her long abstinence, her sexual attraction for her husband did not rekindle. She still loved him but it had changed into a platonic love. They had tried to make it work, but in the end, they separated. They remained amiable, and together raised the children they had from before.

“What did you mean by ‘the Dragons Gifts?’” Kai asked.

“From what we recall, the five Elemental Dragons are incredibly powerful spirits connected to Gaia, the Primordial being that all Earth Mother legends come from. They are in charge of the maintenance and repair of the physical world. It is why you are the Terrestrial Exalted -- empowered by the supreme spirits of the Terrestrial sphere of existence. Your patrons are seldom free to act, however, due to the sheer time and effort they must devote to their primary task and secondly, like all Patrons of the Exalted, creating such a powerful force as Exaltation is draining. You are their contribution to the world's protection,” Jay explained.

“It would have been nice to know this four years ago,” Terra said.

“I think it would have been nice to know this back in January,” Kai added glaring at Odele darkly.

Don stepped forward to get everyone's attention. “Look, the Get of Fenris and Glass Walkers aren't exactly on good terms. Don’t repeat the mistakes of the Garou. The Exalted should stand united. Jay isn’t looking to screw anybody over here. He and the other Sidereals are just trying to find their footing just like you guys did and get the world moving in the right direction. Now that you know of us, at least keep the lines of communication open. Keep talking even if things go bad you can work it all out and keep on track with saving the world and shit,” he said, offering advice from the experiences of his own kind.

“Which direction is the right one?” Kai asked.

Jay gave a shrug. “We were fighting currently unknown but powerful foes when all the Celestials died and the last of the original Dragon-Blooded sacrificed their lives to give us time to save the world. Those forces were not defeated. The right path is the one where the physical world is not annihilated by whatever omnicidal hordes of evil come for us all. I would personally prefer as little collateral death and destruction as possible and as few brave heroes sacrificed to stop said darkness. Can I count on you to work with us on that goal?” Jay said, extending his hand.

Terra reluctantly extended her hand. “I think I can agree to that”

Jay took her hand and gave her an adorable smile. “Cool. Get me a line your people have made secure and I will see how much information we can get for that Solar lawyer of yours. He is one of the Hubs around which fate is nudging everyone.”

“If fate is working to bring everyone together won’t that mean eventually everyone will come to us?” Terra asked.

“No. Some people are strong enough to fight against fate. Fate can only nudge an Exalt, not force them. Even some mortals can resist it occasionally, but that is very rare. Some will slip through the cracks. But if we watch and keep in touch with each other, we can bring those lost eggs in as soon as they are found,” Jay explained. “Also, don’t get too comfortable. M.S.I. is one of Fate’s hubs, but Solars are, by themselves, powerful hubs. You will be a first stop for many because you have been in the game longer, have resources, and information. You offer knowledge and protection. But some will continue to move on or find other hubs around which to gather. Don’t get your feelings hurt and don’t lose contact.”

“Sounds like we have our first jobs then; getting everyone who’s already found to bring in everyone else who they run across,” Terra said.

“That might be difficult. If they are anything like us, some will no doubt be quite willful,” Kai said grimly.

---***---
Campeggio, Schmit & Lewiston
Washington DC Offices
---***---

Edmond glared at the laptop’s screen over his morning coffee. He did not like Nicole's news. “So he refuses to meet with us under any circumstances. We can’t come to him. He won’t come to us. He won’t meet us on neutral ground. The only assurance that we have that he actually is a Solar is a description of his powers and his word. I don’t trust any of this,” he said.

“He did send me some files I had been trying to obtain,” Nicole said. “Magically protected files I never could get to. He said he would help us but only on his own terms and only when he felt we were doing something worthy,” she explained.

“First, all of this sounds like the equivalent of the rich ‘Nigerian Prince’ scam. Second, the survival of the world is at stake. I don’t have time for babying someone's ego,” Campeggio said coldly.

“Yeah, with Terra and Kai nursing your ego all these years, where would we find room for another?” Nicole shot back.

“Cute. It was that charming spunk that made you so fun to work with when we were freeing your kind from internment,” Edmond rejoindered.

“I can bring him in,” Jon interrupted.

“What was that?” Edmond asked, turning in his chair. Jon sat several feet behind Campeggio. The newcomer could see the screen and had been paying attention, but he had stayed out of both view and conversation. He and his new acquaintance had, as Jon predicted, quickly started to make inroads to friendship. Upon hearing the description of each other’s anima, they were certain they were both a part of the Celestial Dragons circle. As they spent more time together, a few more ancient memories of shared events had come back to the pair. It was an odd but strangely satisfying thing: this sudden sense of camaraderie and shared history with someone you had only just met - at least in this life.

“How?” Niccole asked. “Even I can’t get around his computer security. We don’t know his location. Tracing him across the net would be impossible,” she said defensively.

“He’s good but he let two things slip about himself. He works for the company that does computer security for the neighborhood where Odele lives. Yes, it is a conglomerate but it has only a few thousand people who do that sort of work. That brings the available pool of subjects to a manageable number. Next, you have a copy of messages he has sent to you. Use the NSA type style analysis program. Run a filter through it and have it dump all the low probabilities. Lastly, find out which of those on the list were in the office or a public place during the time of your interaction and strike them off. Organize those still on the list by geographic location with an overlay of commercial flight times. The NSA also doesn’t filter by a person’s fist. While we are running them down, it should be easy for you to craft the appropriate program to filter further,” Jon explained.

“That should work,” Nicole said grudgingly. “What’s a fist?”

“It is an old telegraph term. Related to this, it is a count of his average words typed before hitting the enter key or ending a sentence. Even the frequency of emoticon usage. Russian and U.S. operatives during the Great Patriotic War used this method to identify telegraph operators. They might not have known what the encoded messages were saying, but they knew the fist of the personal telegraph operator of high ranking officials. When that fist would show up, they knew something big was in the works.”

As for the other, you’re a security specialist, not an intelligence operative. We have different skill sets. This is why I wanted to find someone with which to work. No one knows everything. Without a support structure, anyone is weaker,” Jon admitted blandly.

“This guy is going to regret not having someone to watch his back. That alone might convince him to work with us rather than this lone wolf garbage,” Edmond said, steepling his hands below a smile.

“Edmond, I’ll need a few thousand dollars in petty cash. Update your records to show a private investigation firm, LHN Solutions, was hired. This would be the sort of firm that finds witnesses, bounties, and investigates cases. I can take commercial flights wherever I need to go under the name of the company and have a good cover for it. I will visit each location and investigate the subjects from the list. We will see if this person hides his physical secrets as well as his online ones. I will find him, I will capture him, I will bring him back to you,” Jon said.

“Excellent! Only don’t bring him here. Take him to M.S.I. Do you need anything else?” Edmond asked with a smile

“Only for Nicole to set up the shell company for me. Personal documents I have no problem obtaining. For this, just as I said, I do not have the contacts or skill sets. As for the target, he is blinded by power and the false security in his anonymity. He has not realized, as I have just proven, we each are mighty in our skill set, but suffer outside where we are far less formidable. He made a grave tactical error that we will exploit,” Jon said.

“Nicole, get us that data and documentation as soon as you can,” Edmond said, typing on his laptop. “Cole, I’ve sent a memo downstairs. My staff is working on your list. Now I need to prepare for my own flight back to California so if you’ll excuse me,” he said rising.

“Don’t worry, I will show myself out. I’m quite familiar with the layout of the building,” Jon said, as he headed for the door.

“How comforting,” Edmond muttered under his breath while closing his laptop.

“It will be once we get around to making security adjustments. For now, it will do,” Jon said over his shoulder, picking up on the normally inaudible quip from Campeggio while reestablishing his midwestern accent.

As Cole opened the door, however, Edmond could see two other people headed in his direction. Denny Crane and a woman he did not know passed by Mr. Cole without paying any attention. The woman was beautiful. He estimated her to be in her mid-thirties. She was dressed impressively in expensive designer clothes with a diamond necklace and matching earrings. She was a woman of middling height, but she had an unmistakable air of authority about her that made her seem somehow taller. Her long blonde hair was fashioned in an ornate ponytail carousel style braid which was complemented by her golden brown eyes and pale skin.

“I need a moment of your time, Ed. This is Lady Katerina, the Duchess of Cádiz,” Denny said, stepping into the office.

Campeggio gestured for them to sit. “What can I do for you? I hope you’ll excuse me for being blunt, but my time is rather limited, I have a flight to make shortly.”

The elegant woman nodded. “I understand,” she said simply. There was a very slight hint of a Castilian accent in her voice.

“The duchess was a client of mine a decade ago. I helped her defend her right to keep some heirlooms of her first husband's estate. Very tricky case. She's Spanish, the husband was German. The other heir was American,” Denny explained.

“An odious man named Claus Rayner. Despite Denny stopping him, those heirlooms of the Rayner house, a lineage that could be traced back to the oldest days of Bavaria, were stolen from my home. I have had investigators working to find the thieves ever since.”

“I’m not sure I understand. Has there been some new findings in the case?” Edmond asked.

“Two weeks ago my investigators vanished without a trace. I suspect he is involved somehow. He is a devious, petty, and scheming old man. My suspicions were all but confirmed when four days later a bizarre accident nearly claimed my life. I only survived because a great power came to me much like Manifestation but not the same. It is a power I wish to keep secret,” the lady explained.

“Exaltation?” Edmond asked, cutting her off.

The lady looked stunned. “Why...yes, how did you know?”

Edmond wanted to scream. How could he get anything done if every Exalt came beating down his door every few hours? He hid his frustration and annoyance well. “I myself am an Eclipse Caste of the Solar Exalted. Denny was quite right to bring you here. Hold on one second,” he said, rising from the sitting area. He pushed the intercom on his desk and ordered his flight time pushed back. He turned back to see Denny holding the Duchess’ hand.

“I’m sure Ed can help you. This is not my area of expertise, but my door is always open to you if you need me, Your Grace,” Denny said. He then kissed her hand and excused himself from the office.

Edmond walked over and sat back down. “Please, continue, Your Grace.”

A brief flash of reluctance passed over Katerina's face. It was nothing but a fleeting hint – a tightening about the eyebrow, a slight raise of her shoulders – but Ed’s own newly acquired powers had given him the ability to take notice of such things on a much higher level and correctly deduce them. It was clear she was uncomfortable with what she was about to say. “Did you have a vision when it happened? Your exaltation, I mean,” she asked.

“I had flashes of memory, insights if you will, but no vision.”

“I had what could only be described as a divine vision. I saw a woodland. The trees were choked with vines. Some were worm eaten and sick. A fire burned away the brush, choking vines, and sickened flesh. A voice that I can only describe as the voice of the Almighty himself, told me the righteous fire must burn the wicked and spare the innocent for the world to grow strong. I am not entirely sure of its meaning.”

Edmond listened intently and considered his words for a few moments before replying. “I’m sorry, but as I said I didn’t have any kind of vision; at least not like that. But, I have been in contact with a few others like you and myself already. We’re not going to have time for a personal vendetta regardless of how justified, but your holy vision may come to fruition more quickly than you know.” Campeggio took a moment to let the seriousness and solemnness of his words sink before continuing.

“You see the fate of the world is in our hands,” he began. The lawyer then spent several hours in deep negotiations with the duchess and began to mentally make notes on an introductory speech for others. If this was going to become a recurring event he planned on streamlining the introductory process as much as possible. It was not until late that night he was able to fly to California.

Chapter Text

---***---
Research Labs
M.S.I. Compound
March 15th, 2012
---***---

Emma Henry stood on a platform as scientific and magical instruments moved in orbit around her. She took a deep breath and willed forth her armor from wherever it vanished when it went away.

Professor Sparks and Dr. Patel watched the readings on their monitors intently. Emma spent the next few hours calling up and testing the systems of her armored form as she had done for the past couple of days. Neither scientist said much as the data rolled by.

“Everything seems to conform to the data we’ve gathered over the last few tests,” Patel said dryly as she made a few notes on a clipboard.

“The core of the device radiates an energy pattern like the other Exalted that have been identified so far," Sparks said giddily in a vibrant contrast to her scientific companion. "It appears this energy pattern is a sort of ‘safety feature.’ It allows a physical being to channel the raw magical essence of the universe without burning out its physical existence. The byproduct of that process is the nimbus of light that shows when they draw on too much power."

Emma blinked. “So, the light show is like a heat sink on a computer? Rather than radiating away excess heat it radiates away raw magic?”

“Something like that, yes. It appears shockingly advanced and extremely powerful,” Patel answered.

“Where does it go when I’m not using it? How does it make the tools and weapons that appear as part of it? I thought matter and energy couldn’t just appear out of nowhere,” Emma wondered.

“That armor is not just a suit. It’s a field of power anchored in a pocket dimension attached to the jewel and your soul,” Patel said.

Emma's face scrunched in confusion so Nikki chimed in to help. “Think of the gem as a door. When the door is closed the gem and everything that comes with it vanishes. When it opens the gem appears. While the door is open it can freely take objects and power from the other room. Also like a door, it’s not completely airtight. Sometimes, you can get a ‘draft’ from the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor."

“So that’s why I still heal better even when the Gem is not showing? It leaks power into me that my body can use to heal?” Emma asked.

“Essentially, yes. Even when the gem is not active you have the base healing and physical resilience that all the other Exalted display,” Patel answered.

“So what do I do now? I mean, how much longer are you going to study me? What am I going to do when you're through? Kai said I would be helping stop the people behind the plots against the Manifested. Who is that? How do I do that?” Emma asked, frustration creeping into her voice.

Sparks smiled. “The ‘who’ is simple. It has to be the Technocracy. Your power resonates with Autochthonian energies. Autochthonia is the headquarters of the Order of Reason aka the Technocracy.”

Doctor Patel nodded. “That means they were behind trying to kill the lawyer, Campeggio. That means they’re the prime suspects for causing all of our ongoing troubles."

“I don’t know about all that," Sparks said as she shook her head. The animated motion knocked loose a bit of her dyed and wildly styled hair and she attempted to place it back as she continued. "When we started working together in Los Angeles and even more so when we moved to New Orleans, we found that most of our problems didn’t stem from just one group. The Technocracy might be leading this effort, but Camarilla vampires, Pentex agents, various spirits, and any number of things likely have their fingers in this pie; each for their own reasons.”

“The others would be incidental. No one else has sent this sort of power after us,” Patel shot back.

“That you know of. Someone else might have and simply never been caught,” Sparks replied, shrugging and still working with her hair.

“Okay, but how much longer are we going to run tests? I’m not a guinea pig,” Emma said in exasperation.

“Nor will we treat you as one. You are not being tracked as far as we can tell. If you are observed by Technocracy agents using your powers, they likely will recognize it, but barring that, you're safe. The device itself is no danger to you. We could most likely keep studying it for years and only turn up more questions. However, for the sake of your sanity, we will refrain. I, for one, would be happy to pay you to come back anytime you are willing. I’m sure we can keep learning more a bit at a time from that device,” Patel admitted.

Nikki sighed, finally giving up repositioning the piece of askew hair and just twisted it out of her eye. “As for where you go from here, I think Edmond wanted to talk to you. He seems to be finding other Exalts and putting together a plan. I’ll let him know we're done. I suspect he is downstairs somewhere. Anyway, I have to go anyhow,” Sparks said as she hopped down from her raised chair and moved toward the door.

Dr. Patel rolled her eyes and mouthed “A-D-D” to Emma.

“Downstairs? Aren't we in the basement? The secure bunker where no one could pick up on what we're doing if we were scanned? What’s under the basement?” Emma asked Sparks’ retreating form as she walked away.

“I wouldn’t ask about the sub-basement,” Patel said with a frown.

Emma started to make a joke, but upon seeing the look on the good doctor’s face decided the sub basement was no laughing matter. Given what she had been privy to in this part of the compound she quickly decided she really didn’t want to know what went on down there.

---***---
The Sub Basement
M.S.I. Compound
---***---

Edmond Campeggio had only recently become aware of M.S.I.’s sub-basement. Like the New Orleans cabal, Kai and Valentina had been well aware of the need to occasionally hold certain supernatural beings against their will. So, using the best materials, some helpful blueprints from Kai's cousin, and the most powerful magics available, they created a vault filled with cells for individual and multiple captives.

Whether it was to secure, contain, or protect, these cells could be quickly configured to house all manner of beings. Scattered among them were interview and meeting rooms. According to Terra, one was being renovated to secure the Power Core should Emma perish or another core be found.

He personally doubted long term imprisonment of an Exaltation was possible. It seemed to be the sort of flaw the creators would have thought of and prevented. The rapid adaptation of the Power Core to all attempts to keep it in one place seemed to prove him right.

Entering a meeting room he nodded to the seated Jon. Edmond walked to a coffee pot where steam still lazily rose from the newly brewed contents and started to fix a cup. “Any problems with the mission?”

“I almost feel bad. He had an excellent set up for a natural disaster: emergency power, a reinforced basement with strong doors, excellent locks, video surveillance, even some motion sensors - all civilian quality of course. It felt like I had been sent to rob a small child,” Jon said pulling out a manila folder

“You made a file on him? Good. Give me the highlights, if you would.”

“He is 5 foot 8 inches, caucasian, 42 years old. Name is Daniel Walker. He is a Dawn Caste.”

“Dawn? They’re normally military geniuses, battlefield commanders, or great warriors. Computer tech doesn’t seem to fit with that,” Edmond said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“FIDE Grand Master, recognized competitor in the Decamentathlon and routine place finisher in most of the RTS computer tournaments. Oh, and he wrote a book about the application of Sun Tzu’s The Art of War to computer programming … for some unknown reason. He has your Dawn Caste credentials.”

“Ahh, well I guess that explains it,” Edmond said with a shrug.

“Yes, well, as easy as finding him and infiltrating his hideout was, getting him here was rather hard. I had one hell of a time getting him into the back of the van I rented. I’m afraid you’re going to owe me some hazard pay.”

“Well that makes sense. As a Dawn Caste, he was bound to put up quite a fight,” Edmond said, revising his mental image of the subject.

Jon smiled smugly. “Oh, he didn't fight. I knocked him out from behind. He never even saw me.”

“Then why would I owe you hazard pay?” Edmond asked, bemused as he raised his cup to his lips.

“Because he weighs about three hundred and seventy-five of your pounds.”

Edmond choked on his coffee and looked up, shocked. “What?”

“It’s true. I almost threw my back out getting him out of his basement.”

Edmond tried to resume a straight face but found he could not. He dissolved into laughter and shook his head. “Oh, my god.”

Jon nodded. “Right, well, you ready to talk to this guy?”

Edmond recovered his composure. “If you knocked him out without a fight I don’t suppose you had a chance to see what his anima was like?”

“Actually, I did. While I was observing him he channeled enough power into his computer usage for it to flare. It was a fortress sized tortoise being attacked by armies. The armies kept breaking on his shell.”

Campeggio gave a snort. “I think he may be Manny's circle mate, then. That’s not bad. If he holds a grudge against us, Manny can help us deal with him.”

“What are you going to say to him?”

“I’m going to explain what we know; what we’re up against and what we’re going to have to do to pull the world through this intact.”

“I hope he understands. Some people react badly to being kidnaped. On the other hand, it is an excellent way to drive home the seriousness of the situation,” Jon mused.

---***---
Residence of Jay Odele
Muir Beach, California
March 15th, 2012
---***---

Jay Odele sat on the second story of his home and observed the tranquil beauty of his carefully designed landscape. Outside the glass walls of the mansion, the last light of day was fading away, turning the small artificial brooks and ponds which were dotted about his garden into pools of gold and copper. The trees, the greenery, even the stones; everything was carefully placed. It was crafted with such skill that it all looked natural despite being complete artifice.

Even the estate's outer walls were camouflaged with vines and stones, adding to the natural illusion. The walls themselves were just high enough that one couldn’t see the other homes in the neighborhood. This gave Jay's home the feeling of being inside a caldera: a world alone unto itself. Every inch of this artificial paradise was visible from Jay's vantage point. It was his secret world; an organized masterpiece hidden in the chaos of the rest of the world.

As the stars came out he carefully observed the ones he could see. The walls might keep the view of the city out, but it did not keep its lights from obscuring all but the brightest stars. Don, as he did most nights, pulled down a screen and dimmed the lights in the room. Jay got up and adjusted the settings on a projector. A projection of the stars lit up the darkened room; the product of numerous correlated data feeds from all the major observatories in the world. While Jay puzzled over what he saw, Don cracked open a beer.

Don’s werewolf controlled gang had cleaned up the bodies from the fighting. That was three days ago. Jay knew the glass wall was going to be a bitch to replace but he at least consoled himself with the facts that the grounds hadn’t suffered much damage. M.S.I. was paying for the repairs. Jay was also pleased to learn that the Dragon-Blooded logged their trip to Muir Beach with the FAA as a test flight and covered their landing in a residential neighborhood as the result of equipment malfunction.

Jay let out a long sigh. “Things just don’t get any easier.”

Don took a drink of his beer. “I take it this misadventure broke more things with fate?”

“Mostly only minor snarls. Fate is fixing itself. But there are some bigger issues. Emma was supposed to bring the Celestial Dragon’s Zenith and Twilight members into the fold. The Guardians of Creation’s Zenith has exalted but she’s ignored fate’s prodding. She is a former police officer and has a distrust of defense attorneys. The Guardians’ Night caste is going to incarnate soon it looks like. That will fill out that circle. The Zenith Katerina is not from a strongly tied circle, just a rogue element,” Jay rambled. He was more talking to himself than answering Don.

“Sounds good. I mean a couple hang ups. Nothing to stress over. So what’s wrong?” Don asked while rising to come over to Jay's chair.

“Plenty is wrong!" Jay said, his voice rising. He stood up and walked closer to the projection. The act seemed to lower his voice, but not the frustration in it. "There are so many Solar Exaltations that are just gone; around half of them. They are just missing from fate. I have no idea why. That and a lot of the other Solar Exaltations that I can see are being exasperatingly stubborn. Take the Celestial Dragon’s Dawn Caste for example: it keeps flitting about potential hosts then it just vanishes. Each time I think it’s going to pick a host it retreats. What is it waiting for? I have a feeling I should know, but I just can’t figure it out.”

“Don’t wear yourself out, Jay. There are 99 others working on this with you. It will all come together,” Don reassured his small charge as he put a hand on his shoulder.

Jay shrugged his shoulders and walked a few steps closer to the projection. “No, something is wrong. I didn’t share that with the Dragon-Blooded because I didn’t want to worry anyone, but something is very wrong with the plans of Heaven. We Sidereals know from comparing memories that we are supposed to be working alongside the gods to plan out fate, so why are we out of the loop? It’s like we are stumbling around in the dark down here. There has to be a reason for that!”

“Hey, change the things you can. The things you can’t, keep an eye on. If something changes and you can take action do it then. I’ve fought in one hopeless war and lived. I’m not about to watch you drive yourself insane worrying about another. Go on, you’re exhausted. Get some sleep, Jay,” Don said, coming up behind him again.

Jay nodded and headed to bed, however, sleep eluded him for some time. He could not help but feel that quite unlike the artificial world he lived in, the real one outside was spiraling out of control.

---***---
M.S.I. Compound
Sub Basement
---***---

“So, you see, there is danger coming; armies devoted to the eradication or enslavement of our world and everyone in it. Everyone is going to have to contribute to our defense,” Edmond finished. He had spent the better part of an hour explaining his position and the pieces of the puzzle that was the Exalted’s purpose that he and his fellows had managed to cobble together over the preceding months. And more time before that about his knowledge of what they were. The introduction speech he had been working on just seemed to get longer, not shorter.

Dan Walker looked at the lawyer. His face was a mix of resentment, incredulity, and disbelief. He finally managed to fumble out a question. “You couldn’t just tell me all of this over the computer?”

“I most certainly could not. I’m surprised at you. How could you blindly trust that we were who we said we were? We just as easily could have been the enemy luring you into a trap, which is just what I thought you were until we confirmed your story.”

Dan sat, seething. He glared angrily at the young lawyer.

Campeggio tried again.“In time, if we had left you alone, you would have slipped up and drawn the attention of someone else, someone with enough magic to know there was something odd about you. They would have taken longer but they would have tracked you down just as we did. Dan, they would not be sitting talking to you. They would try to use you and if they couldn’t they would have disposed of you, just like they were doing with the Dragon-Blooded. I would be more angry with you for being obstinate than I am if I didn't know it’s not your ego that kept you from working with us.”

“Whatever you think you know, keep it to yourself. You don’t know me,” Dan angrily.

“I know you. It’s my job to know people. In fact, I’m going to help you get over your problems,” Edmond said, rising from his seat.

Dan looked nervous now. “What are you doing?”

Edmond opened the door. Two figures were waiting outside. “Oh, good! Could you both come in here please?”

Kai and Valentina both entered the room. Dan looked away from them and stared into his reflection in the steel table.

“Kai, before you sits a strategic genius. A mind so remarkable it was picked to enter the ranks of the Exalted. One of a thousand or so picked out of a population of seven billion people. That is one in seven million. One hundred times less likely than being struck by lighting. This man will be one of the minds planning our military defense when the shit hits the fan. He has valid concerns that he needs your help addressing,” Edmond explained.

Kai folded his arms and looked down at Dan. Edmond thought he saw a brief hint of fire in the Austrian giant’s eyes, like an artist sizing up a piece of marble. “He is physically unfit. We can remedy this. Many of the women in our assault team were civilians. They were soft before, but Exaltation makes us resilient. We can endure harsher training than others. It will be physically demanding but it can be done.”

“What? I...I...” Dan flustered.

“There is no need to be ashamed. You had no need to be physically fit. Over indulgence in food is an illness, much like any addiction. We will give you support so that you do not relapse. We will hone your body to repair the damage it has sustained. You have a strong mind. That is a harder thing to forge than a strong body,” Kai explained.

Dan looked overwhelmed. “I...I don’t know what to say. I thought you’d be judgemental. So many people are...well, they’re...cruel!”

“If I judged people for being less physically fit than I am, I would have to look down on the world would I not? I am not quite that arrogant,” Kai said with a grin.

“We’ve all learned the basics of fighting and not just those of us on the assault team. We’ve trained housewives, bakers, doctors, you name it. You're not alone in this. Admittedly, your starting condition is a bit worse than some, but it’s not insurmountable,” Valentina added.

“I really appreciate that. You’re not at all what I expected, Mr. Silbern,” Dan said, the relief palpable in his voice.

“You will be obliged to stay here during the training, but that shouldn't affect your job as your work is almost entirely done remotely,” Edmond explained. “Look, Dan, we’re not here to screw you or anyone else over, but we have a plan. It’s a loose plan, but we’re going to be tightening it up as we go along.

“Step One: we acquire as much power of every sort we can get our hands on. Step Two: we identify the shadows that control this messed up world of ours. Step Three: we force as many of those power blocs, by every means at our disposal, to form an alliance with us to protect this world. Step Four: we dismantle every organization that will not play ball. We are going to be too busy fighting external foes to deal with betrayal from within. The longer no one knows about us or what we are doing the easier those first steps are going to be.”

“This could all go so wrong. If it’s what the rest of you have planned out I suppose I’ll have to help, but it seems like it has far too many holes,” Dan said.

“Then help us close them, damn it!” Edmond yelled as he slammed his fist down on the table and leaned in on the Dawn caste. “You need to start working on ways to do that when you're not training your body. That’s what you exalted for. That’s what you are here for. And that’s what we need you for!”

“Let us leave Daniel to rest. You have given him much to think about,” Kai said, eyeing Edmond.

“You’re right. We’ve been at this for hours,” Edmond said, straightening back up and putting a lid back on his faux irritation. “I’m sure we could all use a break.” Edmond straightened his tie and nodded to Dan before turning and exiting the room.

“You may rest here for the night, Daniel. One of the ladies will come and show you where you will be staying,” Kai said. He gave Dan a reassuring pat on the shoulder and then left the room with Valentina in tow. He looked down the hall at the retreating form of Edmond Campeggio. He narrowed his eyes and charged after the lawyer.

“Not so fast, Campeggio! We must speak. I will help you deal with your Dawn Caste problem, now you will listen to my concerns,” Kai said ominously

“I know I put a lot of work on your plate, Kai, but we need to get this guy on board if we’re going to make advancements,” Edmond said as Kai and Valentina herded him into a side room.

“I am not worried about him. I am worried about that murderer you have taken up with,” Kai said dangerously.

Edmond looked slightly taken aback, as if he wasn’t quite sure what Kai was talking about or why such venom dripped from his voice. Then it dawned on him. “If you mean Jon Cole, I know an assassin is not the most savory sort, but you were a mercenary. I hardly think there is room for name calling.”

“No! I am not talking about disposing of criminal leaders and corrupt politicians, I am talking about Biyu Chang; age twenty three, Fire Aspect. That godless communist spawn killed one of us,” Kai hissed. His voice was cold and bitter, and the steely look of resolve in his eyes gave Campeggio pause.

“I know you have a tacit agreement not to kill each other. If you have to face each other in combat you’ve resolved to take prisoners rather than kill, am I right? Jon was not part of that agreement. He was being hunted by something beyond his abilities. He killed to save his own life, Kai.”

Kai’s face twisted into a sneer. ‘Some-thing? She was a girl and one of us.”

“Edmond, it’s not just that he killed her, it’s that he doesn’t seem to feel remorse. We have an innate sympathy for each other. We stick together. We know we can trust each other. Cole killed one of us and he didn’t feel anything. It’s made us start to question our situation relative to your kind,” Valentina explained.

“How can we trust your kind if you do not have this connection? We have been working hard for years to lay the foundations for our own power base – to make our own place in this world. Now you want us to risk it with no guarantee that you will keep our interests in your grandiose plans,” Kai said darkly.

Edmond squared himself to the two. Now he knew what all this was about – fear and distrust. He found himself somewhat hurt even if he understood, and equal parts passion and empathy dripped from his voice. “Did you trust me before I became one of the Exalted? I devoted so much time and wealth to your cause because I believed in you. I believe that you were the best hope for the world. That if anyone was going to make things better it was the Manifested - the Dragon-Blooded. I believed in you. Now I need you to believe in me. Not because of some supernatural connection or mysticism, I need you to believe because of our friendship, because I have been there for you.”

Kai didn’t look particularly impressed. “You want us to trust that you will keep nine hundred or more other Exalts from plotting against us?”

Campeggio was already prepared for that question. “No. I want you to trust that if you or I find such a plot, I will help you take it down. I want you to trust that I am still Edmond Campeggio who, when he was just a human, sided with you because humanity was mistreating you out of fear. I want you to trust that Edmond Campeggio will continue to be your friend and to support your cause because he IS Edmond Campeggio regardless of whatever else he might be.”

The room was quiet for a long while as both Dragon-Blooded were deep in thought.

“Trust is not an easy thing,” Valentina said, breaking the silence.

Kai raised his hand to stop her from saying more. “If anyone else were asking me this, the answer would probably be no. However, for Edmond Campeggio, our ally who was there in our darkest hour – for him, the answer is yes. I will trust you.”

“Excellent,” Edmond said, relieved.

“That doesn’t mean I am going to like that Russian swine,” Kai spat.

“That won’t be required, just work with him and don’t kill him,” Edmond said.

Kai said nothing, but merely turned and walked out of the room. Valentina nodded at the lawyer and followed Kai out. It wasn’t exactly the start that Edmond had hoped for, but it seemed, at least, the Exalted host had a foundation for a new beginning.