Chapter Text
Why was the music so loud? I blinked as bright lights and lasers through a haze flashed obnoxiously.
“What should we do with him, Venerable Sister?” someone that looked like a blur asked. The silhouette was facing me directly.
…Venerable Sister? I’m a dude.
I barely heard the question. The club’s bass throbbed against my ears, my skin, my bones.
Things started to sharpen as I focused.
In front of me was a man on his knees –
“Jesus Christ!” I said. He was bloody all over. His mouth dribbled blood out the side. Whatever he was wearing had been fancy. Had been. It was torn and ragged now. The only article of worth was the watch on his wrist.
“Please.”
I couldn’t even hear him, but I didn’t need to. It was easy enough to assume.
I looked at the two men holding him in place. Both of them had Hawaiian style shirts, a thick book chained to their waists, and white khaki pants. Long, thick metallic chains adorned their arms, and purple and black tattoos crossed all over their body in intermittent streaks.
I’d seen that look before. I think it was in a live service game –
…Ohhhh fuuuuuuck.
Was this Limbus Company?
Limbus fucking Company?!
And the tattoos…was I a fucking member of the Middle?
I didn’t dare open my mouth at the realization.
“Venerable Sister?”
Right. They asked me what I wanted to do with this poor sap.
“What was his crime?” I asked slowly, trying to make myself sound composed. My heartbeat was at the same tempo as the club’s song.
The left man straightened.
“He made a remark regarding your attire, Venerable Sister.”
I waited. They remained silent.
“...And?”
The two looked at each other.
“He committed the gravest offense,” the left continued. “He said it looked ‘mid.’”
The bloody man shivered.
Wait. Is he laughing?
He was. I had assumed the fear had gotten to him, but no. Even now, there were uneven chuckles shaking his body. Delirium from blood loss and pain might’ve gotten to him.
A bit more blood spit out of his mouth.
The right raised his fist, his tattoos lighting up. He was about to smack the offender.
“Stop,” I said, stepping forward. I grabbed the offending wrist and held it with unexpected ease, then sighed with my eyes closed. “He was complimenting me.”
A long pause.
“How…could it be a compliment?” the left asked carefully.
The right wasn’t listening anymore. He was staring at my hand gripping his wrist, expression shifting into something dangerously close to reverence.
I let go.
I was going to need a mirror after this shit. Pronto.
“We’re the Middle,” I said. “And he described my attire as ‘mid.’”
Silence.
I tilted my head. “So?”
The two exchanged a look.
“...He has accurately identified your alignment with the Middle,” the left said slowly.
The right man dumbly nodded in agreement.
Good enough. It was a dumb joke.
“Exactly.”
Another pause.
The right man finally lowered his fist.
“Then…” he hesitated, voice tightening. He narrowed his eyes. “Is this not a failure to escalate the compliment appropriately?”
…What?
My silence seemed to prompt him to continue. “If he recognizes the Middle, yet only describes it as ‘mid,’ and with a joke, then he did not acknowledge you with the sufficient level of respect. In the Book of Vengeance, this is an even more grave offense.”
The left man nodded, agreeing with his Brother. “Yes, Venerable Sister. If that is the case, he knew who we were, and even then decided it was his place to make a joke of our character. The initial punishment was a mere displacement of his tongue. His current punishment is immediate, and assured death.”
The punished man wasn’t laughing anymore. His eyes were rapidly flicking between the two. He started to struggle, trying to break free, but was far, far too weak. He couldn’t even budge the arms on him an inch.
Desperately, he looked at me. Again.
I sighed.
How do I make it so these guys let him go?
I knelt down on a knee and laid a hand on the man’s shoulder. He went completely still, as did the two Brothers.
“I apologize for the inconvenience my two subordinates have caused you,” I said, pushing as much confidence into my voice as I could while making it kind. “It appears that strength is their…strength. Humor, not as much.” I gave him a smile at my crap joke.
The two Brothers stiffened.
“...An apology…by the Venerable Sister herself?” the right said.
“I’ve never once seen her apologize,” the left said.
The man’s eyes were wide. His pupils started darting everywhere instead of me suddenly. For some reason, I got the feeling I more scared him than assuaged his fears.
I stood up.
“Let him go,” I ordered. “No escalation. No writing this down into the Book of Vengeance.”
“Venerable Sister!”
“But he – ”
These idiots were getting on my nerves. I felt a headache beginning to form, deep inside my skull. Something pulsed through my arms, and the chains on them rattled harshly.
“I said – ”
“Yes, Venerable Sister! At once!” both shouted, not letting me finish.
I let out a breath, and the feeling of energy coursing through every single blood cell dissipated. I ignored the brief flicker of disappointment my body gave at not using force.
“Good.” I watched them pick the man back up and dust him off. “And compensate him. Double for the value of any losses. The Middle always repays their debts.”
“Yes!”
I stared at the reflection in the mirror.
The woman in the mirror was of decent height. Easily five-ten.
Long black hair fell past her hips in slow waves. Sharp purple eyes, pupils stark white, stared back at me.
Toned muscle, definition running everywhere – abs, shoulders, biceps. Every part of her body. And tattoos flowed through it all.
Not even remotely a man. I stared a second longer.
I made a face.
She did the same.
“Fuck,” we both said.
I turned and looked at the room. A large penthouse.
White and purple dominated the space – plush chairs, a leather couch, a long king-sized bed I never would’ve afforded on minimum wage. Double doors opened to a patio overlooking the Backstreets.
How does something like this exist in the Backstreets?
It’s way too nice.
I walked barefoot across the marble floor and dropped onto the bed. It was heaven.
The City, however, wasn’t. That was most definitely Hell.
I needed information. I didn’t know how I got here, but I wasn’t dying tomorrow.
Whatever a “Venerable Sister” was, it sat high enough that people listened. Thanks be to whatever power sent me here, but also a gigantic ‘fuck you’ for sending to me to THE CITY of all places.
I’d figure it out tomorrow.
I closed my eyes, pushing the thoughts away.
Somehow, the issue of being a woman wasn’t so large. Not when its competition was ‘Stay ALIVE,’ and the possibility of dying was very high.
The next morning, I stretched fully in my bed and got up.
I sifted through the closet, ignoring the more extravagant outfits. I had no idea how to wear those.
Thankfully, there were simpler clothes to wear. I tossed on a pink Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, a ruby necklace…and, reluctantly, the bra and underwear. Why all of it was essentially lingerie, I didn’t want to know.
I took the elevator down. When it opened, I saw two Sisters sitting at a table. They rose as one when I entered the lobby.
“Venerable Sister, good morning,” they both greeted with a bow, not quite meeting my gaze.
“Good morning,” I said out of habit.
One of them gasped.
“She returned a greeting,” she whispered. “Is she well?”
“Shut up,” the other shushed, even quieter. “She can hear us with her augmentations. Do you want to die?”
“Not particularly. I’m concerned for our safety.”
I flinched.
“Rise,” I said. They obeyed but kept their eyes low. I cocked an eyebrow at them. “Since when did we follow the Thumb’s structure? Why are you bowing to me?”
The two looked concerned.
“Venerable Sister, it was upon your order two days ago to begin bowing. That our mere presence insulted you, so we mustn’t stain your experience during your visit to the South Section.”
“And to not make eye contact unless ordered otherwise,” the other said.
Ah. That’s why they hadn’t once looked me in the eye.
“Forget my orders. I was drunk,” I lied. They shared a look that told me “That’s a bunch of bullshit”, but nodded firmly.
“Yes, Venerable Sister,” they said. I smiled. They flinched.
Jeeeeeesusss…
“What’s on the schedule for today?” I asked, forcing my expression neutral. Their shoulders loosened immediately.
“You stated you wished to find individuals to enter into the Book of Vengeance last night,” the left Sister said. I held in a sigh.
So I was looking to kill people for the sport of it. Well, not me. The Venerable Sister before me.
…Right. This woman was such an asshole.
“Let’s walk the beat, then,” I said. “Shall we?”
I smiled as the sun shone directly above me. It was a beautiful day. It had been three hours, and not a single person caused an issue. None of the Brothers or Sisters in my retinue had written a single name into the Books.
I walked along the rundown sidewalk, whistling past another dilapidated apartment complex. None of the homes were completely trashy. They were just old and utterly unmaintained – for at least half a century.
And the people were so introverted, it felt like I was right at home!
They would greet our group with a bow and then walk off. I’d rather they didn’t bow or give their courtesies at all, but at least they didn’t stay to talk.
I felt my smile widen as another person bowed and went their way.
Big Brother Matthew did not want to get on Venerable Sister Serena’s vicious side. She was always on her bad side, and he’d taken beatings from her before.
When she had ordered him and a few other Big Siblings to join her walk around the Backstreets, he obeyed. But not without concern.
If he found something insulting and wrote the name into the Book at his waist, she would lash out at him, stating it was her name to write. Her punishment to deliver.
And she’d strike him.
If he waited for her to write a name first, however, then she’d punish him for missing obvious punishable insults to the Middle.
And she’d strike him.
And every hit had hurt. Even with his augmentations and tattoos, her punches left him struggling to breathe. There were multiple occasions she’d knock him unconscious with just two punches, and he’d wake up with a bloody hole.
But he’d survived and stayed strong. Maybe that’s why he was still allowed to be in her presence. Anyone else who annoyed her nearly died, and they were demoted or moved to a different section.
Her reputation rippled all the way down the Middle. She was the very top, so the Brothers and Sisters all knew.
The people under her ‘protection’ also knew. It’s why as soon as they saw her, they bowed, kept their heads low, and moved on quickly.
But all morning, she hadn’t written a single name.
Yet the first Big Sister – willing to take the burden for the rest – who dared to consider writing a name down for bowing a second late, had been immediately shut down.
“Let the woman go,” the Venerable Sister said. “She bowed after she recognized us, had she not?”
The blood in him sang. With fear. The same fear he felt before he had all the tattoos and augmentations.
When he was powerless and useless.
Venerable Sister Serena, letting someone go? And smiling at them as she did so?
What devil replaced her? What thing smiled like that?
Or was this all some elaborate ruse?
He watched her more carefully after.
His fear only grew when noon came and she began to whistle, still with no new names on her Book.
And then it happened.
Someone spoke to her directly.
“I’d bang you, but you’re too tall.”
The disrespect would have him killed.
Big Brother Matthew felt the tension ease among the others.
This would be written.
The Venerable Sister pulled out her Book and a pen. Everyone watched, breaths caught in their throats. The short man who had spoken froze in place, realizing the idiocy of his actions. But he didn’t run; that would be even stupider.
“Horrible pick up lines,” Venerable Sister Serena said, voice listless. “Didn’t even try. I’d give it a two out of ten. Punishment, a flick to the forehead.”
A flick from her would blow his head off clean.
The man squeezed his eyes shut when she brought her hand up, middle finger tucked in tight against her thumb.
There was a light thud.
No supersonic explosion. No tattoos lighting up.
She had just flicked him normally and was already walking off, her Book dangling comfortably on her waist.
“Go be a normal person and stop trying to pick people up with corny lines. It’s really unattractive.”
And then she laughed.
Horrifying.
No one knew how to respond.
Especially the man that was still alive. He eventually bowed and scampered off.
What in the fuck was going on with the Venerable Sister?
A few mornings later, I heard the sound of a palm striking skin echo like a clap in a hallway. I slowed down, then turned in the direction of the sound.
Around a corner, there was a Big Brother – I was starting to differentiate them through the number of tattoos and the amount of chains they had on their body – disciplining one of the young recruits.
A small boy with silver hair and red eyes. Couldn’t have been older than fifteen.
“You lost your fight and almost cost us a dear Big Brother.” The Big Brother struck the boy again – hard – against the raw, red cheek. I quickened my pace and stepped more forcefully on my heels, letting them clap aggressively against the tile.
The Big Brother turned and immediately paled.
“Venerable Sister,” he said, straight like a pencil.
“What did he do?” I said. The little Brother faced me slowly, then bowed.
“There was a brawl when we enacted punishment in Miro’s club. This Little Brother allowed one of the accused to pass him, and they stabbed Big Brother Ricardo through his ribs,” he said. “I was punishing him for his lack of diligence.”
Ricardo?
That’ll be a later problem. For now, there was a little kid that needed help.
“What’s your name, Little Brother?”
“...Sam, Venerable Sister,” Sam said.
“Look at me.” He did. “Do you have combat training?” A shake of the head. I nodded. “Okay, get into a stance.”
The Big Brother’s face, which was already pale, went ghost white.
“Venerable Sister, that won’t be necessary! I was already in the middle of disciplining him!”
I didn’t even spare him a glance. What, did he think I was going to kill the kid?
Sam didn’t move, looking between the two of us.
“Listen to me, Sam. I outrank him,” I said. At least, I assumed so. Venerable sounded much higher than Big.
That seemed to do the trick, and Sam slid his feet out and raised his fist. I cocked an eyebrow.
I had done a bit of boxing before this life, so –
“Are you new to fighting?”
“Yes, Venerable Sister,” was the shameful reply.
“Hmm…Okay, throw a punch. Let’s see…okay, that was…something.”
The punch was more of a haymaker than anything. Sam threw his entire arm in a straight line diagonally down, as if it were a club.
I glared at the Big Brother as irritation gnawed at the back of my skull.
He flinched.
“You’re punishing this younger Brother when he was never taught how to fight? What kind of idiocy is that?” I snapped. I pointed at Sam. “You, follow me. We’re going to the nearest training room and I’m going to show you how to punch.”
Sam simply nodded.
“Yes, Venerable Sister.”
I paused.
“And you,” I continued, pointing at the other Sibling. “Get over here and lead us. This is your charge, so you’re going to make sure he learns how to fight properly after today.”
Ricardo of the Middle was in a shit mood. He had woken up feeling like shit, courtesy of a sword through his left side, and tried to get food.
And then the Venerable Sister – the very, very top of the Middle – summoned him.
There was no Venerable Brother; she had bested him and demoted him to a distinguished Great Elder Brother.
He wasn’t sure what he had done to garner a direct summon, but that didn’t matter. What did, was the fact that Venerable Sister Serena was a bloodthirsty, powerful, vicious leader. She led with power.
And she punished with that same power as well on her subordinates.
She treated it like a harsh family.
He opened the door to a training building under the command of the Southern Section and paused at the scene. He removed his sunglasses and rubbed his eyes.
Nope. No tricks of the light.
Venerable Sister Serena was teaching the shit-stain Little Brother that had let the fucker stab him. He was sweating, and the Venerable Sister was yelling at him, but he wasn’t bleeding.
“Fuck me, is that shitty kid smiling?” Ricardo said quietly. The Venerable Sister snapped her attention to him. Head damned hearing augmentations.
“Take a break, Sam.” The kid slumped to the ground. “Ricardo, how are you?”
Ricardo’s blood slowed, then stilled entirely. Was he about to die? Had he insulted her so greatly? He had to apologize immediately for his transgression, whatever it was.
“I heard you were injured a couple hours ago, but you look better than I had expected.” She approached him, a – that was most certainly not relief – smile on her face. “Oh right, you’re allowed to meet my gaze. That order has been removed.”
Ricardo nodded. That sounded like her. Make rules up, then remove them just as quickly.
“Good evening, Venerable Sister,” he said. “I apologize for my inattention. It was entirely my fault.”
To his increasing fear, that didn’t seem to be the right words to say. Every time he apologized like this before to every other Greater Sibling, they had let him off with a single hit to the gut.
The Venerable Sister didn’t say anything. She didn’t approach him with her tattoos glowing either.
Not like she really needed those to do damage, anyway. Monstrous fucker.
“What are you apologizing for?” she asked slowly. As if she were confused. She was playing with him.
Yup. He was in deep shit. He bowed deeply, his upper body parallel to the floor.
“I cost us significant time and tarnished our reputation. You can punish me however you see fit.”
He stared at the ground for what felt like eternity as silence responded. Then he heard a long, drawn out breath.
“...What is it with you guys acting like I’m a part of the Thumb? I was simply concerned for your condition and had you summoned to check on you in person.”
Ricardo’s sunglasses fell off as he rose. His leader was now standing directly in front of him, her head under his chin, her eyes roving over his upper body. She was searching for…something.
Then, she smiled and nodded.
“Hmm…you don’t look too bad.” She lightly punched his shoulder. Just enough to shove him back a half step. “Good, good.”
“Thank…you, Venerable Sister?”
“Ugh, stop calling me that. Call me Serena. That title is too damn long and formal.” He wouldn’t dare. “If you continue to do so, then I’ll ask you to join me in the ring.”
“Yes, Serena. Understood,” he corrected.
She smiled again. His chains rattled once as his tattoos flared instinctively, sensing danger.
“Very good, Ricardo.” She clapped once. “Alright, wrap it up! We’re getting food!”
“Yes, Venerable Sister!” everyone in the building shouted.
“What the fuck did I just say!”
“...Yes, Serena!”
No one knew how to deal with the sudden change their Venerable Sister had undergone seemingly overnight.
She had arrived in the Southern Section after the Black Silence’s rampage, taking out half of their forces, and she had been furious. For two days, she was in a rage, writing down names and ruthlessly punishing both Siblings and those under the Middle’s protection.
They were preparing to attain vengeance for all their fallen comrades, but many were unsure how they would do that now that the Color Fixer seemingly disappeared.
And then after the second night at the club, she suddenly started smiling.
The Great Brother that had his wrist swore that she was about to crush it into dust. But she just…let it go, just like the man that had insulted her.
No one believed him. Their Venerable Sister never let an opportunity to break something pass.
But then a week passed and nothing happened. The worst she did was write down a few names and let the accused off with an unpowered flick to the forehead.
The other shoe did not seem to be dropping.
And then she said they wouldn’t attempt vengeance any further on the Black Silence.
“Why would we send more men to die to the Library? That’s fucking stupid.”
And that was that.
I punched the man in the stomach, sending him flying into a wall. The mace flew out of his grip. I grabbed it and quickly threw it at the nearest assailant. Another crash against the building’s wall.
Four…Rats had tried jumping me. I made quick work of them all and clapped my hands. My body felt like it hadn’t strained itself whatsoever, my breathing just as even as before the fight began.
“Okay,” I said, approaching the nearest groaning girl. Fear flooded her visage and she picked up her knife. I kicked the hilt out of her grip. “Why did you try jumping me?”
“Fuck you!” she screamed. The words did not at all match the expression she held. I knelt down and stared her down at eye level.
“Look, I didn’t want to hurt you or your friends.”
“They aren’t my friends! I don’t even know them!”
I held in the wince from the volume. “Right. Well, I didn’t want to hurt any of you and you haven’t given me an explanation for why you tried assassinating me.”
“...”
Right, the City did not respond well to kindness.
I sighed and brushed my hand across my hair. “Listen, girl. Tell me why, and I won’t kill you. I’ll just take your piss-poor knife as a little trophy.”
She reluctantly procured a slip of paper from her jacket pocket.
“I got this.”
I stared at her incredulously. “You got a Prescript to attack me? Girl, I'm the Venerable Sister of the Middle.”
The pink-haired girl froze. Then, she was groveling in the next second, despite her injuries.
“Please, just kill me! Please don’t torture me. I’m worthless. Please, please! Here, I can do it myself! Look!” I narrowed my eyes when she jumped for the knife and then pointed it at her own throat. To my eyes, it looked like she had crawled over in idle frames. I grabbed her wrists within a single hand easily. “Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”
“Relax, girl. I’m not going to kill you.”
“The stories say that’s your most famous lie! Let me end it myself! Just the smallest dignity, please!” She was sobbing now.
Serena, you are such a fucked up woman.
I hugged the girl in front of me. She went slack within my grasp.
“It’s okay, girl. It’s going to be all good from now on.” I brushed her hair with one hand and patted her back with the other. “Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
She burst into life, pushing against me with all her might as if her life depended on it.
“Let me go! Let me go!!!” she screeched into my ear.
Head damned hearing augmentations.
“Shhhh, it’s okay,” I said, cringing at the noise.
Veronica was her name. I convinced (forced) her to join the Middle.
As for the other three, I waited for them to wake up. Then, I sent them with Ricardo, who I called for through a long range walkie.
He looked at them, then nodded when I told him they were to be under his charge.
“Teach them how to actually fight,” I said.
“Yes, Ven – ”
“The ring is calling your name, Ricardo.”
“Yes, Serena!”
I looked down at Veronica. She’d long since given up putting up a fight, instead rag dolling in my lap.
“And you are going to be my direct Little Sister. That sounds great, doesn’t it?”
“Sure,” Veronica said with a pout. “Fantastic.”
I laughed.
“Oh, you’re so cute when you’re angry!”
Her pout increased in intensity. She blew air out of her mouth and then looked into my eyes.
“You’re not at all like the stories,” she said. I grinned.
“No. I suppose I’m not.”
Money, or Ahn, it turns out, was an issue. Especially when half a Section got obliterated by one man.
And when the Middle’s Venerable Sister accidentally killed the bookkeeper in her rage.
I didn’t get to find out why. The Great Sister I asked had simply said he’d insulted me, and that was that.
That was probably some bullshit.
When I had asked for anybody in the Middle capable of bookkeeping to come, I hadn’t expected the nearly thousand members flooding the street near our base.
I was in a room that fit only two hundred, and that was an uncomfortable fit. I sat on a chair at one end with a long, expensive red table in front of me, whereas the rest of the members stood opposite me.
Except for Veronica. I made her stand beside me.
“Okay, this is certainly impressive. I wasn’t aware that so many of you were financially literate.”
There was a round of coughs and scuffling feet. I raised an eyebrow. Veronica sighed so deeply, it sounded like it came from an old, disappointed grandma.
“What?” I asked. No one met my eyes as I gazed from right to left.
“Serena,” Veronica said. I looked at her. “They thought you meant…handling business with the Book of Vengeance.”
I stared at her. She stared back, unimpressed. I turned back to the crowd, who were nodding discreetly.
I burst into a laugh, slapping the table.
After that correction, only four people remained in the building.
“Alright,” I said. “Let’s do a quick test. Quick, what’s five times five?”
“Forty-seven!” the first one said.
“Seventy!” the second shouted, even more confident.
“Twenty-five!” the third said. She then looked at the other two in vast confusion.
“...Twenty-six!” the fourth said a beat after the others.
I slapped my forehead. Why did Serena have to go and kill the last accountant? There was one person capable of simple math out of a thousand!
“Okay, you got the job,” I said, pointing at the third person. The Little Sister stood and bowed. “And stop bowing. Just say yes and nod.”
“Yes, Venerable Sister!”
Goooooooood damn it.
Thus, two weeks after my transmigration, I got a new bookkeeper for the Southern Section.
I prayed she was decent.
Yan Vismok hadn’t received a direct Prescript for a few months. Even after starting work as an Index Messenger for a few weeks, the Prescripts were strangely silent.
And then it came.
“Go to the Southern Section of the Middle Syndicate and wait outside a blue and green building for fifteen minutes.”
That was a few Districts over. A month ago, that trip would have taken weeks. Luckily, as a Messenger, he was allowed the privilege of a first class ticket on any WARP trains.
He arrived two hours later and took another bus to enter the Backstreets where he was told the Middle Syndicate resided. Upon his exit, he looked up and coincidentally saw a blue and green building. He walked across the street.
And then he waited for fifteen minutes. Nothing happened. Perhaps it was simply a waste of time.
He was about to walk over to the bus stop to return when –
“Hey, Index! What the fuck are you doing on our turf?”
Yan frowned. A group of seven Middle members approached him. He had hoped they wouldn’t notice him, but that had been a foolish thought. He was dressed in all white in the slums.
He stuck out like colorful candy in a sea of milquetoast mush.
“I’ve received a Prescript to come,” he said.
“Fuck your Prescripts, Index shit. You came on our grounds. That’s an insult. Your name is going straight into the Book, pal,” one said. Plenty of chains and tattoos. Possibly a Great Sibling.
“Yeah,” another Great Sibling said. “Unless you tell us what your reason for being here is, you’re fucked, mate.”
Yan’s eyebrows furrowed. “I have told you: A Prescript ordained me to come and wait outside this building for fifteen minutes.” He raised the paper.
They didn’t believe him. One of them snatched the paper and read it.
“Little shit ain’t lying.” They swapped between looking at the paper and him. “What the hell is the Index tryna’ do here?”
“...Should we ask Serena?”
“You’re really calling the Venerable Sister by her first name?”
“I’d rather not get called into training again by her, James. So yes.” A quick murmur of agreement. “Also, my question?”
Silence. Then, one of the Great Sisters pulled out a communication device.
“Serena. We have an Index member here.”
There was a crackle, then a woman’s voice came through the static.
“Huh? Why?”
Yan hadn’t expected the voice to sound so genuinely confused.
“Don’t know. Got a Prescript that said to come here and wait outside of a building for fifteen.”
“The fuck?”
“Yeah.”
“...Okay, whatever. What’s their name?”
The woman looked at him.
“Yan Vismok,” he said, finding no reason to hide that information. He had yet to discover the purpose of the Prescript. This may lead him to it.
“...Shit.” The voice sharpened. “Where are you? I’m coming right now.”
The crackling from the other end cut off.
The other seven began questioning him why their Venerable Sister would know him personally. He couldn’t answer.
“So you don’t know?”
“I do not,” he said, for the fifth time.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t,” he agreed, also for the fifth time. He prayed to the stars that the Venerable Sister came soon. As long as his patience was, he was nearing the end of his rope.
“Oh shit.” The woman’s voice from the communication device. Yan turned and saw a tall, beautiful woman across the street approach him. The other Middle members parted ways, giving the two of them ample space to talk. “Are you Yan Vismok?”
“I am,” he said. “Do I…know you?”
She shook her head, a deep frown marring her lips. “No. But that’s not an issue.”
It wasn’t? This woman was confusing him.
She looked at the other members of the Middle.
“Did any of you harass him?”
All of them shook their heads.
“Good. If I’d heard that you had, I’d take you all in for some combat practice.” They shivered. “Remember, no fighting. No fighting. No fucking fighting. Unless they start it, no fighting.”
“Yes, Serena!”
Yan wasn’t sure what he expected, but this certainly was not it. She turned back to him.
“Is there a problem, then?” he asked, trying to steer her towards an answer.
There was a short pause. Then –
“Yeah,” she said. “There is. The Prescripts sent you to me.”
That didn’t answer anything. He tilted his head.
“Okay, okay. Fuck. The rest of you lot, give us some space.”
“...We have, Venerable Si…I mean, Serena,” James said, correcting himself when she turned to glare. She pointed across the street toward a building.
“Go.”
They hesitated. Her tattoos started glowing.
“What, you think this twink can do anything to me?” Yan took some offense to that. He most certainly was not a twink. “Fuck off and go already. I need to talk with this child.”
He was also not a child.
She watched them shuffle away until they all disappeared into the building. Then, stared at him for a minute without speaking. He’d seen that expression many times before when he’d handed out Prescripts. Many receivers found themselves at a loss for words.
He allowed the silence to settle. He had no reason to speak first.
“I’m the Venerable Sister of the Middle, Serena,” she said. He’d assumed as much. “I’m going to be honest with you, Yan. You aren’t supposed to be here.”
“I’m not? The Prescripts led me here,” he said calmly.
Serena nodded, then sighed. She paced back and forth. Then, she carefully placed both hands on his shoulders.
He didn’t shy away from her. She didn’t seem to want to harm him.
“Yan, I’m not a part of the Index.”
He was very aware of that.
But he nodded, as if that was not obvious.
“Yes, that is true,” he said.
“And I personally don’t want to get in the spotlight of your Index gods, so I can’t do or say too much. So I want you to listen very, very closely.”
He nodded.
She pulled him in slowly. Then hugged him so softly, wrapping her arms around his head and into her bosom embrace.
“There is free will. And there is kindness.”
How could she be sure?
“...There is?” he asked.
He felt her nod from the top of his head.
“Yes. There is. Even if it seems like there isn’t. And when you think there is none, I want you to remember me. And this moment.”
“Why?”
“Because I chose to hug you and show you kindness, Yan Vismok, despite the danger it’ll put me in.”
He didn’t understand.
Then, she let him go.
Yan frowned at the loss of contact. When was the last time he'd received such a warm hug…since his parents?
“Goodbye, Yan Vismok,” she said, a sad smile gracing her lips. It didn’t match the Middle at all. Or any Syndicate.
It felt too genuine.
A week later, when he was shown the Will of the City and the creator of the Prescripts, he distorted and headed to the Library at the behest of the Prescripts. He felt lost and had no hope.
Angela, the Director of the Library – now a Star of the City – let him inside through a set of stairs.
A black-suited man awaited him. He introduced himself. Roland, a Grade 9 Fixer. Yan didn’t care. There was no reason to. The Prescripts led him here, and that was all that mattered.
And when he lost, Roland standing above his disappearing form, that didn’t matter either.
It was all for the Will of the City.
“Sorry, kid. That Serena girl had it right. I don’t know why she was so nice to you. She was an absolute bitch every time I saw her.” Roland sat down next to him with a huff. “But there is free will.”
“Ha. Is there?” Yan asked.
Roland nodded. Then, Yan saw the fury behind those black eyes.
“Yes,” the Grade 9 Fixer said. “That’s why I’m here.”
Yan didn’t believe him.
But Roland had reminded him of Serena, the Venerable Sister of the Middle. Serena had said that simply speaking to him would endanger her. And showing kindness to him was a danger to her.
That wasn’t how the City functioned. That was directly in contradiction to the Will of the City.
She had no reason to speak to him at all. She could’ve turned him away, and the Prescript would have been completed.
She’d chosen to show him kindness.
A crack formed in his Distortion.
Roland held up the Book of Yan.
“This one’s…really messed up, Angela,” he said. “Even for me.”
Angela kept quiet, one hand holding the other wrist.
Free will. Something she believed she never had.
“Do you believe those words that woman said?” Angela asked.
Roland shrugged. “I don’t know. I just know what I do. This is this, and that is that.”
Angela sighed. She seemed unsure. More than after any other reception.
Maybe Roland would be shown another path. One not so bloody.
“But I think Yan believed her, just a little.”
Angela looked at him as she took the Book. “And what makes you say that?”
“Just before he became a book, I saw his face for a moment,” Roland said.
“You did?”
Roland nodded.
“Yeah. He was crying.”
It had been two weeks since Yan.
Two more weeks I didn’t randomly transport back home.
“Good morning,” I said as I walked out into the lobby.
“Good morning, Serena,” a Great Brother greeted. I nodded to him and went to the table where Veronica was already waiting.
And sweating.
She was wearing a puffy jacket and ripped jeans, even in the dead heat of summer. She really was too prideful. She had requested it simply because it was the most expensive option in the store. I’d bought it but warned her that she’d have to wear it.
I didn’t really mean it. If she apologized and asked for a new set of lighter clothes, I’d have gotten those as well.
She had yet to ask, though.
“Finally. I thought I’d have to wait another year before you came down,” she said. I sat down next to her.
“Sorry, sorry. Makeup is…a bit difficult for me. It takes me longer than I’d like.”
A few plates of food came. Bacon. Eggs. Meat of…unknown origin and quality.
I didn’t want to know.
“Next time, ask me for help,” Veronica said. “None of your other idiot members have a clue on how to do makeup.”
I shrugged. “Sure. But maybe after the meeting.”
“Are you sure you want me there?”
“Of course,” I said. “It’ll be fun!”
The Finger Bow Bell was not something I really wanted to participate in but had no choice in. We arrived in the afternoon.
I entered the large building and was guided by a member of the Northern Branch to my seat.
All of the other seats were already taken by the time I arrived. Each leader of their respective Syndicates watched me as I sat.
I felt the power in each of them. I forced a brave front.
“Late during the Finger Bow Bell. Should we take this as an insult?” the head of the Thumb said. The air grew heavy with the question, and no one else jumped into the conversation.
I rolled my eyes.
“Take it however you’d like. I baked you all cookies.”
Veronica came in and passed out a basket to each of the Syndicates. They didn’t touch the baked goods inside.
“Cookies,” the Capo dei capi repeated, clearly unimpressed.
“If you were going to provide a gift to offset your tardiness, perhaps something more artistic would have been suitable.” I looked at the speaker from the Ring.
“Perhaps you should consider the rarity of the gift and who it came from before speaking.”
There was a long silence as everyone in the room turned their head.
“That argument is acknowledged. It is…indeed an anomaly of the greatest order, Venerable Sister of the Middle. To both receive a gift and hear logic from you.”
“And you haven’t even tried them yet,” I said, ignoring the thinly veiled jab at my intelligence. None of them made a move still. I sighed. “Veronica, go around a take a cookie from each – ”
“That’s quite enough,” the Capo said. “If you meant to kill all of us, the Middle would be destroyed within the day.” He handed a cookie to a subordinate. She took it dutifully and chewed it thoroughly.
“It is delicious,” she said.
“See,” I said. “And not dead. Eat the damn cookies and let’s start the meeting.”
“I don’t see how you’re making more Ahn with half of your Southern Section destroyed,” the Pinky leader said. She didn’t mean it offensively; the Pinky weren’t near that District. The other Fingers leaned in.
“It turns out not killing your clientele is far more beneficial in the long term.”
“Ah.” The Greatest Star of the Pinky smiled. “You’ve taken my advice, then. I’m glad to hear it.”
“...Sure. Something like that.”
“Another point to her intelligence,” the Ring said.
“Yeah, fuck you, too.”
“Surprisingly well-mannered for once,” the Index representative said. “The Prescripts did say to watch you closely, Venerable Sister.”
I flipped him off.
“Very well-mannered in comparison.”
I saw the Light shine across the sky.
For seven days.
For seven nights.
I never saw Roland, or Angela.
Or Yan Vismok.
I made my peace with it.
“Ricardo!”
Big Brother Ricardo stood at attention when the Venerable Sister called him out. He turned around in the lobby and waited.
“Oh, look at you! You’ve gotten taller!”
Had he? He couldn’t tell. It’s only been a few months since he’d been in direct working contact with the Venerable Sister.
He removed his sunglasses and smiled.
“Hi, Serena! How was your trip?”
Serena made a choking sound. “Booooring! The only reason it was fun was thanks to Veronica!”
The pink-haired girl walked up.
“Sup, Big Brother,” she said casually.
“...Sup, Veronica,” he said. The girl, albeit weak, was actually his favorite Little Sibling. She had snark and good jokes, and a good sense of style that she used to occasionally dress him up.
The younger girl made a face.
“...Maybe don’t do that. It’s not your vibe.”
Ricardo let down his shoulders. “Veronica, I’m trying my best. Let me be a cool Big Brother!”
“Mmm…let’s go shopping later, then.”
“Sure! Anything for the Little Sister!”
“Ahem…” Ricardo refocused on Serena. He would never have ignored the Venerable Sister in the past. “I brought you some gifts!”
“You did?” Serena got him gifts? Whatever had changed her, this was the best thing ever!
“Yup! Here, I got you a hair coupon to a luxury salon!”
“Woooooo!” Ricardo whooped and took the proffered ticket. He knew where the location was; he’d only been talking about it for the past few years. Serena had overheard him at some point and laughed.
“And if you promise me something, I’ll give you the other nine.”
“Anything!”
Serena smiled. “Good. If anyone ever comes and steals your coupons – ”
“Hey, Serena,” Veronica said.
“I told you to call me ‘Big Sis Serena.’”
“That’s too confusing if I do that. All the other Big Sisters will respond until they hear your name.”
I sighed.
“Damn. These stupid names,” I said. “I don’t want to be called ‘Venerable Sister.’ How about just ‘Big Sis?’”
“That doesn’t work either.” Veronica’s voice came muffled as she chewed through a chocolate chip cookie. I handed her a fifth. She took it eagerly.
“Fine, fine. Serena is fiiiine.”
Veronica turned to me and smiled.
“Thanks for all the treats, Serena!”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”
I stood up and hugged her from behind.
“Make sure to save some for the rest of the Siblings.”
Veronica bit into yet another cookie.
“Sure, sure.”
Ricardo sighed. The Sinners were bleeding profusely on the ground, and the Clockhead was doing his job of bringing them all back to life.
It was fun the first few times.
But then he got bored of the act.
He had promised to Serena that he’d pretend to get real upset about losing a single hair coupon.
He may have gotten…real upset. Like, for real. And then wrote the mongrel’s name onto the Book of Vengeance.
But he had nine more and he had promised to Serena that he would chase after whoever dared to steal from him. Without the intention of killing them.
He may have accidentally killed a few after catching up to them at the Great Lakes. But then they came back to life, so all was good!
“Just teach them a lesson and make sure not to kill the leader. Then it’ll be all good!”
Clearly, the Clockhead was the leader of the bunch.
The one with white hair stared at him oddly as she returned.
“The flow is off,” she said. “Faust does not understand.”
Ricardo didn’t have an answer for that. And that wasn’t even a question.
“Well, don’t worry about all of that. You’ll be dead again soon!”
It’s been nearly a year since my transmigration.
I walked around the Backstreet again. Most of the Big Siblings and Greater Siblings nodded my way and moved on.
The Little Siblings, however, all ran up to me.
“Serena! How’s your evening!”
I smiled.
“Good, kids. How’re you all doing? Training going well?”
“It’s great!”
“Stellar!”
“Big Brother Ricardo is a butt sometimes, though.”
I laughed.
“I’m glad to hear it,” I said. I ruffled the top of each head. “I’m on a walk. Do you want to join?”
“Yes!” came the unanimous response.
For the next hour, I chatted with them leisurely. They had no walls around me. Not like the older Siblings. Not like the ones that had known Serena before me.
A few had warned the younger Siblings to be careful around me, and to remain respectful. I had warned those few to “shut the fuck up.”
A group of citizens waved over to us. They stopped bowing a long while ago. It had taken months, but enough time without senseless violence and unreasonable offenses got through to them that I wouldn’t add their names to the Book of Vengeance for small things.
Like not bowing. Or saying my first name. Or reciting stupid jokes.
“Good evening, Serena!”
I still didn’t know much. And I was strong, but not strong enough to change the City.
But I looked at the faces around me.
Veronica fought the others to be the closest to me.
The citizens no longer cowered in fear. They returned my smiles and greetings.
I thought of the reduction in violence in each of the Districts the Middle controlled. The reduction in names stupidly added to the Book of Vengeance.
And I felt content.
I smiled wide.
“Good evening!” I shouted back.
Epilogue.
Yan Vismok returned from the Book. He didn’t know how long had passed.
He looked up to the sky and saw the stars.
They were the same as they had always been.
And then he just waited.
In that empty street, he waited. He didn’t look around. He saw no purpose for that.
A Prescript would surely come to him.
And it would give him a set of instructions on what to do next.
And next.
And the next.
And the next.
And –
“Oh. Yan.”
He’d heard that voice before. A long time ago.
He turned his mechanical, key-like body.
There was a woman coming towards him.
Tall. Black hair. With purple tattoos all over her body.
Her white irises seemed close to bursting with tears.
“Hello, Serena,” he said.
He didn’t need the Will of the City or to feel the vibrations of each citizen to know how this particular one felt.
She stopped directly in front of him. Then wrapped her arms around him as best as she could.
“Are you okay?”
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter.
…but she mattered.
“I’ll be alright,” he said, voice a little clearer than it had been.