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[Link to image: https://smartgamecap.net/?p=26946]
Grief.
Mourning.
That was what she had been doing.
The Draco woman had been sitting alone, her stature slumped into the wooden chair.
Alina was gone.
Her life was snuffed out by someone.
Both of her hands placed themselves against her forehead; the thought of Alina was a cloud in her mind. Thinking of possibilities on how she could've saved her friend. What if she was faster before Alina was even injured? What if she had stayed to protect her?
All of those thoughts were useless... Those possibilities couldn't help her current state; she still couldn't accept that she was gone.
A knock on the door.
She lifted her head as she wiped off long dried tears. She walked towards the door, before pausing midway as she saw her state in the mirror. She could see her bloodshot eyes from crying earlier.
She let out a heavy breath before composing herself as her hand went towards the handle, turning it as she opened the door.
Then, the world turned to darkness. Her sight, her thoughts, the very air in her lungs. For a long, suspended moment, there was nothing. No sound. No sensation… Awareness returned in fragments…
Then, a familiar voice.
“Talulah, my dearest daughter, have you reconsidered?”
“You!” She snarled as she whirled around to the source of the voice, breathing as her own voice wheezed down her throat hoarse.
The parasite of her body, the accursed snake, simply hummed. “Ah, I must be insensitive. Such is the problem with age when death like those were common. For what’s worth, you have my condolences.”
“I don’t need your condolences!” Talulah hissed in anger, her face twisting into a fierce expression.
Alas, the snake wasn’t deterred by it. In fact, it smiled widely as if someone presented a feast in front of it.
“Ah, but you are hurting, my dearest daughter. Isn’t it justice to see those who wronged you punished in equal measure? You have the strength to do it, you have the will to pull it. It’s a justifiable target–”
“I will not hear your thoughts in this manner!” The leader of Reunion stood up, her fists clenched so hard she could feel her nails digging into the palms of her hands.
Despite that, the snake merely laughed. “Ah, I’m just telling you what it is, dear Talulah. After all, they’re still breathing, still talking, bragging about killing your closest–”
“SHUT UP!” Talulah screamed, “YOU SHUT UP THIS INSTANT, RIGHT NOW!”
The darkness around her seemed to close in, suffocating her without even needing to engulf her entire being. The memory of her fleetingly warm body going cold as she raced through the tundra, burning everything just so she could rekindle that life back–
[Perhaps, you seek an alternative?]
Suddenly, an imperious voice in monotone froze the darkness itself. So too, the snake.
The snake and dragon whirled around to see a ball of light floating at the corner of the cottage, where Alina used to sit by as she knit–
Her heart twinged at the reminder that she’s gone–
“You…” The snake’s snarl of anger and confusion dislodged her from her dark thoughts, looking up to see it warily stood at a distance away from the ball of light, “You do not meddle with what is mine–”
[Since when could you own someone outside of your own body, snake?] The ball of light didn’t change its monotone, without inflection or accent, unnatural yet authoritative, [You who owned Ursus yet still want more beyond your reach. Has your endeavor beyond the veil taught you something? Or has age finally caught up to you like the Feranmuts?]
Talulah blinked, watching the snake hiss and snarl at the newly arrived interloper inside the cottage.
“Who are you? What are you?” Talulah asked, her guard up as she assessed whether this new being was a threat or not.
[I am but a separate system away from the machinations of the Linguist. Not the product of the Oracle, but a concept’s thought and structure built after a simple objective.] It spoke, the light floating up and down above Alina’s old seat.
“Do not listen to IT,” he snarled. “Why–”
“Silence.” The Draco interrupted with a snappy tone before turning back to the ball of light, “What do you have to offer?”
[Straight to the point. Very well, I shall talk with haste.] The ball gently floated away from her seat and began to circle around the table in front. [In the meantime, I shall pluck her soul from the cold grasp of oblivion and return her to your side, whole and breathing. In exchange for this gift, which no other power would dare to offer, you shall undertake a series of tasks on my behalf. These labors shall be performed not in this world, but in another existence entirely, a place governed by rules and perils far removed from those you know.]
It flew closer, then floated in between the snake and the dragon, keeping its distance despite the darkness’ stubborn attempts of swallowing it whole. [Once you give your assent, time upon this side shall freeze utterly, suspended in a perfect and unyielding stasis. It shall not stir again until one of two fates befalls you: either you’ll have completed every task I set before you, or you shall have perished miserably, your quest left unfulfilled, and your bones abandoned in some nameless corner of that foreign realm. I can offer no further detail, no gentle reassurance, no promise of safety. That is all I may say for now.]
Then it stopped and floated over the table, where it shone its light downward, revealing something mundane hovering above the wooden furniture.
“A… pager..?” Talulah’s eyes couldn’t believe what she saw and heard. The deal was just too good to be true, appearing in front of her so suddenly.
Even as suspicion bubbled underneath the Draco’s gut, she turned towards the snake, who simply shook his head in response.
“This thing is lying. Such feat is–”
[Possible due to the lengths of the Assimilated Universe within the Originium, correct?] The light finished the sentence with nary a tone that had changed, [Such is the design of the Linguist, but not everyone wished to be a form of data that can be copied and pasted like a normal document, threat of the Precursors be damned.]
“Talulah… reconsider, could you really trust an entity like this?”
[As if she could trust you further after what you had said about her love. What is it again? “Condolences”? Such degrading words never fit a being that uplifted a nation with its own blood.]
He stared at the ball of light with scrutiny, changing gears as he found himself stupefied to continue that topic. “Ridiculous, what proof can you give?”
[Proof? I'll show you the world that she will be transported to, one without Originium, a world purely run by science and strength. A world where beings like you don't need immortality to accomplish what you have accomplished over a millennium.]
“Preposterous! If that were to exist–”
As the light and the dark continued to argue, Talulah’s inner turmoil continued to spiral.
Would she trust the devil she knew, or the stranger she didn’t? Would her employment end? Would she get back what was lost? Could she push through it? Was it a lie? Was it the truth? Where were the strings? What were the limits?
Her ruminations continued on and on; the argument felt so distant that she could barely make out what was being spoken.
‘Talulah, you must... live on…’
…
She had made her decision.
“Enough, both of you. I have made my decision.” She breathed in, calming her nerves as the fire within her heart warmed her for the next words she would utter, "I'll get her back, at all costs.”
The snake tried to refute more, but his voice was unheard.
[Then we have an agreement.]
“Talulah–!”
The light engulfed her vision and the darkness was banished. After a moment–
The world around her went dark. She was left alone as gravity ceased to exist and she fell. Her mind was set on track.
She will save Alina, no matter the cost.
She could see a light behind her.
She turned her head to look at the source of the light–
[Link to image: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/obWwkz]
–only to land hard on the sandy ground. She let out a small ‘ow.’
She stood up and brushed the dust off her clothing; she still had her sword.
She looked around her. Her surroundings were a wasteland, but she could see a fort in the distance. She walked towards it.
There was a different kind of silence; Talulah kept her guard up and was cautious. She couldn't risk herself dying when she was promised that she could save Alina. She now bore the responsibility not just for her life, but Alina’s as well.
Once she got closer to the fort, she paused as she heard something. The sound itself was coming from the inside. She took a tentative step towards the building...
Suddenly, a small scorpion scuttled out of the fort before disappearing into a crevice. Talulah let out a breath of relief; it was just an insect.
Nothing bad had happened so far.
I’ll try to keep it that way.
Talulah’s ears pricked at a sharp, metallic clank that rang out from somewhere deeper within. Then came another, closer now, and another still.
Machines emerged from the darkness of the entrance, their arm blades raised and aimed forward. Their metallic bodies twitched occasionally as they advanced into view.
“...STATE YOUR BUSINESS. INTERLOPER.” The machines stated as the group poised for an attack, yet they awaited the Draco’s response.
Who did they think she was? Something worth nothing but dirt?
Talulah pulled her longsword out of her sheath; she pointed her own sword at the machines.
She was hardly impressed or intimidated.
But that didn’t mean she'd go easy with these pieces of junk. There was no need to reason with them.
She did not waste any more time as she dashed towards the nearest machine. She swung her blade into the machine’s metal body, then thrust it through its chest.
“TARGET IS HOSTILE. ENGAGING–” The machine's words were cut off as Talulah threw the machine, still sparking in her sword, at their kin. She then cut down a machine charging at her with an arm blade raised.
The machines rushed, but there were just a few of them. Talulah took a step back and evaded a slash, then sliced off its neck.
The severed head rolled between the legs of the other machines; one accidentally stepped on it, crushing it with a crunch.
“Waste of time,” Talulah commented. Why was this much easier than the opponents she was used to fighting?
Expectations would be low if she had any for them in the first place. Not that she’d had any expectations of them in the first place.
Her longsword was covered in flames as she raised it, before she sent a flame slash at one of the machines, which tried to evade it.
But unfortunately, it was too slow.
It was sliced in half, melting, metal slowly turned into slag, like butter being heated in a pan.
The machines froze as they stared at one of their brethren who turned into cast metal. Their visors flickered as they slowly turned their heads towards Talulah with a new body language.
Wariness.
“WHAT. ARE. YOU.” One of them spoke, raising and pointing their blades at her as if they were demanding an explanation for her existence.
In all honesty, violence would not have been her first option. It was clear the machines had intelligence, as their first course of action was to engage her with dialogue instead of force, like the monsters she used to fight in the wilderness of Ursus. In fact, she should’ve opened up with some diplomacy first. Alina would be horrified to know that she did something like this without words being used first. Isn’t her goal to be less threatening to other people and always lend a hand to the infected? What if these machines weren’t so different from her people? What made her attack them in the first place?
Talulah stared back, then she took a step forward. She didn't need to answer.
She dashed forward, longsword flaming, and began cutting down the machines that were running towards her.
The first came close and had its neck sliced off.
The second leaped, aiming a stab at her shoulder. Talulah snatched the nearest machine and used it as a shield. As the blade pierced its chassis, she brought her own sword down and cleaved through both.
She spun, decapitating the nearest machines in one arc, then hurled a final slash of fiery sharpness at the remaining group. It struck the wall and exploded.
She stood there in silence, the crackle of flames her only company.
Various parts of machines scattered all around the ground, broken, molten to slag.
Then the ground rumbled below her.
Fine. If this place wants to kill her, then she’ll be their guest.
She had lived long enough to prove it otherwise.
“Wympe!” Sieghart called.
“Yeah?” He heard her adjusting her glasses, her own way of letting him know that he had her attention.
“Map.” He extended a hand without turning, fingers curling in a wordless demand. A crumpled sheet of paper was promptly placed into his palm.
He accepted it with a curt nod and brought it close, eyes scanning the inked markings before lifting his gaze to the surrounding terrain. Down to the map, then up to the jagged treeline. Down again, up again.
“It’s not here.” A series of groans sounded off behind him. And honestly, he wanted to join in as well. Let out his own growl of irritation and be done with it, but he couldn’t let himself.
The expedition had been a bust, much to his deepening annoyance. The lead he had followed was finicky at best, a rumor built on half-truths and wishful thinking, yet he had trusted his gut. Still nothing turned up in their search.
“Verdammt, dann müssen wir wohl mit leeren Händen gehen!?” Arabella groaned once more, never once stopping her complaints even after an hour of the expedition. “I am starving for blood. Can we just head back?”
Their bespectacled comrade, Wympe, nervously laughed in response. “Well, I’m sure the boss has a reason–”
Sleepy murmured. “...Let's head back; there is nothing to gain–”
Then a large movement shook the earth, interrupting their conversation.
Then, over the horizon, there were massive ruins of a fort; a giant mountain-like monster rose above the aged derelict and roared loudly in pain.
The reason why became clear when the entire place erupted with brimstone and fire.
“...Boss, you sure we’re not on top of some volcano and shit?”
“No. The rumors didn’t say so.” Might as well admit that he himself didn’t know what he was looking at right now.
The mountain giant, despite being staggered by the explosion, raised its massive fists over its head and smashed them down to the ground with tremendous shaking, almost making a mini-earthquake with how strong the impact was.
And of course, since the area was also a part of the Outskirts’ desert, it also kicked up so much dust that a sandstorm formed as a result.
“...Boss? I think we should–”
Then the air went very hot. Hot enough that he actually felt glass forming in the open.
“BOSS, WE HAVE INCOMING!”
That was no longer necessary; the hot air itself had become a weapon.
See, he didn’t know about this, but he once asked a Feather who knew about desert stuff a simple question. An idle one meant to fill an awkward silence.
What happens if a sandstorm is subjected to heat strong enough to turn the sand into glass?
To quote the egghead’s answer, “If a moving sandstorm were subjected to heat strong enough to turn the airborne sand into glass, it would create a terrifying, glowing rain of molten or solid glass droplets, similar to cosmic spherules or microscopic tektites, that would quickly plummet to the ground and coat the landscape in a sharp, glassy crust.”
In other words, there was a fucking storm of glass shards bearing down upon them.
“Let's go back to those ruins! Follow me!” Sieghart called out, his companions jumping into action as they sprinted across the open desert and into the edges of the ruined fort, just in time for the glass sandstorm to hit outside of the walls.
“Fuck! Boss! It feels like I’m being boiled alive here!” Emil yelled over the loud noise of the storm, the stone visibly steaming to the point that Wympe’s sleeve caught fire the moment it grazed the walls.
“Ack! Come on!”
Talulah raised the temperature higher, hopping over the outstretched arm of the mountain giant as she ran her sword through it, going upwards as the stone began to bake underneath her soles and crack from the sheer heat she was outputting.
Such a feat is child’s play. Good thing no one’s in the vicinity. It would be a pity to–
She deftly parried away a stray boulder twice her size, slicing it away as she rapidly approached the giant’s head. It raised its other hand above her, preparing to swat her aside like a bug.
Talulah denied its solution by whirling around and making a flaming slash that cuts through the rocky arm like a hot knife through butter.
The giant flailed, its roar now filled with fear as it used its still-attached arm to sweep toward her, to swat her off.
But it was too late. She jumped above the monster, manipulating her arts to turn her heat higher than the stone could handle.
She raised her sword, Stellar Corona, and made a downward slash.
The flames above her fell upon it like a god’s wrath, rending the monster in half and cracking the ground below so hard that it formed a chasm filled with sharp glass and molten brimstone.
Then her body accepted the gravity’s influence and began to plummet down.
She never felt fear, only clarity as she angled her body towards the scorching corpse of the giant and used her sword to dig through its rocky body to control her fall, a long jagged line destroying the giant’s remaining steaming stony body parts before she skidded down to the ground and cleared the jagged glass with a sweep of her blade. The glass spires that now jutted from the ground like the giant crystals of Terra’s wilderness..
Smoke and ash filled her lungs, yet her skin never rose above her body temperature. A feature only for her species could enjoy.
Then, out there in the distant ruins by the edge of the wrecked fort, she heard something interesting.
Footsteps.
Talulah turned towards the source and saw a group of people with weird outfits, armors, and familiar weapons.
Brigands? Bandits? Mercenaries?
She would know soon enough.
She moved towards the location and–
Talulah winced, grimacing as she finally came back to full control. “I shouldn’t be surprised about this. You took your chances–”
“Ah, but I was only showing initiative–”
“No one wants their entire quadrant turned into glass!” The draco snapped, reining in her arts to a manageable level, finally letting the sand cool off as the desert gleamed, jagged spikes of glass jutting from the dunes like the towering originium crystals she saw back in the Ursus wilderness.
She was disoriented by the sudden jump, giving the snake a chance to hijack her body long enough for the entire encounter to end.
But as she was about to voice her displeasure, a yell tore her attention back to the front.
“OIIII! YOU FRIEND OR FOE?!”
Talulah blinked. Who the hell shouts for identification like that? And based on the unamused stares of their companions, they found it idiotic too.
They’ve already seen me. Hopefully this encounter will go well enough.
She ignored the ominous laughter of the snake behind her back and made her way towards the group with a deliberate pace.
Sieghart couldn’t believe his eyes. He felt like a mirage had just entered his vision or he and his companions had died during the glass sandstorm.
“Is…is that a genuine dragon tail?”
He watched it move languidly, his eyes moving from the appendage to the pair of horns on top of her head.
And boy, she oozed so much power it was ridiculous. He was wondering what augments the lady was using…
“...We're not dead, right?” Sleepy asked, rubbing his eyes as he tried to clear up the figure that was slowly approaching them.
But no matter how hard they pinched themselves or how hard they were staring at their bottles of water, they were not hallucinating at all.
Well, might as well say hello, right? A sweet voice muttered… ever since that event.
Sieghart drew a deep breath; his companions saw what he was about to do, but they were too late to stop it.
“OIIII! YOU FRIEND OR FOE?!”
“BOSS?!” Wympe protested.
“Oh, we’re so finished…” She took a long drag from her cigar.
“Boss, can I drink her blood?”
“...I just want to sleep at this point.”
“Why!?” Wympe sputtered, presumably at the blood-drinking suggestion.
Sieghart ignored them all, keeping his hands on his hips as the figure paused for a few moments before it continued walking, now with purpose in her steps.
Well, she wasn’t aggressively moving towards them, so that’s a win?
Soon enough, the dragon lady stopped just several paces away from them, close enough to see her uniform, which basically screams “military” through and through. Did they just pick up someone important after they got kidnapped? Nah, no way because there’s a possibility she did the glass sandstorm. And there’s the possibility of her getting lost and her escort through the desert and she’s the only survivor and such. And to top it off, she has a massive sword, almost as tall as Sieghart himself.
“Ok! You can stop now and uhh… what’s next after that?” He turned around and whispered at Wympe.
“Identify yourself.” The bespectacled girl sighed in consternation in reply.
“Yes! Yes, identify yourself, stranger! Friend or foe?” Sieghart could hear his companions groaning and facepalming, but who cares! This is first contact from an outsider beyond the City! Who knows how many dragon ladies there were?
“Depends. Why are you asking?” The draco finally spoke, throwing the question back at them as her eyebrow arched in a way that suggests that she’s a noble too.
Sieghart shrugged. “Uhh, standard W and H questions? Like, who, what, where, why, when, and how?”
She seemed to ponder for a bit before answering. “Talulah. I was exploring these ruins for loot.”
“Loot.” Someone, it sounds like Emil, behind him repeated in incredulousness, “You just turned the desert into glass, cleaved some giant ass mountain in half, and nearly got us cooked under a microwave, just for loot?”
“Why else would I be here?”
Sieghart blinked, then the voice inside his head spoke up.
“Ohh, she’s a lovely addition to your office~. Why not take her in? She does look lonely after all.”
The leader of the Turbulence office nodded. “Well, she came here herself for us; can we keep her?”
“No.”
“Nein.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Boss, why…”
“I'm going to sleep…”
Sieghart turned around towards his officemates and argued, making some hand gestures as he continued to convince them about his decision, “Why not? She’ll fit in nicely, you know?”
Emil’s face looked like he was trying to explain the concept of understanding to a steel wall. “Boss, this is a woman who turned up the heat so high, there’s fucking glass crystals all over the place, for loot. I'm all for killing, but there is something called moderation.”
“Pssh, she’s nice and all, trust!” The voice inside his head giggled.
“Ich finde das höchst verdächtig.” Arabella commented, narrowing her eyes as she looked at the dragon lady up and down.
“She has a dragon tail… she might not even be a human!” Wympe remarked with a tinge of fear, “The head might kill us if we bring this woman back to the city.”
“...oh, right.” Sieghart sagely nodded before he turned around again towards the dragon lady who called herself Talulah, “You human? Like, fleshy bits, complicated hormones, big brain and all?”
“Boss…” Emil’s voice sounded like he was being strangled. How rude.
“What? It’s a genuine question!” The hatted man retorted with a childish whine. Not that he can call it childish, but they’ll get the point!
Talulah the dragon lady blinked, nonplussed, before she cleared her throat for attention. “As far as I know, I am as ‘human’ as I can be. As for my reason why I’m out here…”
She turned slightly away, arms crossed. “That’s for me to keep.”
“Fair enough.” Sieghart conceded with a nod of his head.
Despite that, had the woman been undeniably human, she would have been the first to back Sieghart. But still, Wympe protested over the idea. “B-boss, are you sure this is the right decision–”
The office leader shook his head. “No ‘buts’ or ‘complaints.’ Trust me on this.”
“But, you know, the City! We might not even know until–!”
“What is this city you speak of?” Talulah raised her eyebrow, interrupting Wympe’s passionate refusal with the subtlety of a warhammer.
Sieghart considered the question, Wympe had good points in her concern about the dragon lady. But chances were the lady had been born in the Outskirts. ‘There had to be some pockets of civilization out there, right?’
“It’s a long story.” He took his time thinking and turning over the question within his mind before he finally asked it, “Are you heading west?”
The dragon lady hummed, recalling what the beeper had shown her earlier before she was transported into this desert and ruins. “I am.”
Sieghart knew what to do next. “Alright, let’s tag along in the meantime. We can fill you in on the way.”
She studied him for a long moment, giving him hope as she visibly considered his offer despite the obvious refusal of his fellow office mates. After all, the voice hasn’t failed him yet and brought him a lot of joy, bringing in some of the strays she ordered to adopt.
The dragon lady nodded absentmindedly, her tail giving a slow, thoughtful lash. “You assume I want company?”
“Well, you did stop when I shouted,” Sieghart said cheerfully. “And you haven't killed us yet. I’d call that a good start.”
Behind him, Emil dragged a hand down his face. “Boss, that’s your criteria? Not killing us?”
“Hasn’t failed me so far, right, Emil?” Sieghart shrugged. “We all have questionable past, at worst, we shouldn't judge other people's backgrounds.”
Emil paused before letting out a deep sigh, “I suppose so, Sieghart.”
Sieghart then gestured toward the distant ruins on the horizon. “Look, we’re heading the same direction. Safety in numbers. My office has provisions, and you look like you could use a break from glassing entire landscapes.”
“You would share that?” Talulah gave him a skeptical look.
“For a fellow traveller? Why not?” The sweet voice inside his head hummed in approval, and Sieghart felt his smile widen. “Think of it as a trial period. You don’t like us, you can leave whenever. We won’t stop you.”
A brief silence, only broken by Sleepy, letting out a long, exhausted yawn.
“Maybe I can ask her to light my cigar for me, instead of you, boss.” Nicole added, blowing out a plume of cigar smoke.
Arabella muttered something darkly in German, but she didn’t draw her weapon.
Talulah, in between all that dialogue, ignored them all and took a step forward, boots crunching on cooling glass. “Very well. I will travel with you. But if this turns out to be a waste of my time, I will not be held responsible for the consequences.”
“Rest assured, you won't be disappointed!” Sieghart said with confidence, their office had a pretty good track record of all things generally, even though some of the fixers they collaborated with wouldn’t stop whispering about “Noodle incidents” or something.
The officer leader then posed with one hand on his hip and the other pointing in a direction. “Turbulence office. Move out!”
All of them either grumbled, sighed, or groaned, but eventually began to move, walking back to the direction of the city as Sieghart could hardly contain the smile on his face. If all went well, maybe the dragon lady could join their office. The more, the merrier.
“...The city.” Talulah said as she walked behind the group. “Could you tell more about the city you speak of?”
Now that was a difficult question. How was he supposed to explain the concept of the City to an Outskirt dweller?
“Hm… Where should I start?” There was so much to cover. The Wings, the Districts, the singularities, the backstreets, he didn't know where to begin at all.
“Maybe clue her in from the start.” He agreed to the voice in his head, perhaps he should start at the basics.
“There are 26 Districts in the city, technically 25 Districts since we don't know where Z-Corp is or have any information about it as of now,” Sieghart explained. “25 of those districts have different cultures and aesthetics, all governed by a Wing.”
“...A Wing?”
“A corporation that claims complete control over a district.” Sieghart answered, “Every corporation responds to the Head. There are two sides of a district. The Nest and the backstreets. A nest is basically the Wing's personal territory that they have full control over and protect it. The Backstreets are the place where the Wing has no control over it, where the Rats are commonly seen and where the general syndicates base their areas of operation too. The Wings couldn’t care less about it, so it’s more or less a lawless slum where the strong will live and the weak will die.”
The dragon lady frowned at that tidbit, but she didn’t ask for more clarification, which was better, honestly, because the topic of the backstreets was kind of… iffy at best. “Syndicates?”
Sieghart placed his hand on his chin; he thought of a way to explain the criminal world of the backstreets. “Generally, they are crime groups that are not authorized by the Hana Association, a group that’s pretty much the regulator for us fixers. The prominent ones are The Five Fingers. Where there's the Thumb, the Index, the Middle, the Ring, and the Pinky.”
“I see.” Talulah’s tone sounded a bit disturbed about that fact. “So in other words, a criminal organization?”
“Well… They aren't taboo breakers per se.” Emil, sensing her skeptical tone, quickly corrected. “Although they are more so the complete opposite of registered fixers offices.”
Wympe chimed in, “Fixers are ‘officially’ registered. They are more trusted by corporations to do the job, syndicates are unregistered organizations that either challenge or hinder corporations for profit or goals.”
“And these fixers are?” Talulah asked.
“What's on the tin!” Sieghart replied to the dragon lady’s question, “We fix things like problematic neighbors, wrecked stuff, investigative work, the stuff that most people wouldn’t do normally. Though, I wouldn’t say that all fixers were the same…”
“Like the Colors and such!” Emil jumped in to fill the awkward pause, “They were generally the best of the best. Living legends that did more than the City could offer. Like the Vermillion Cross, the Black Silence, the Blue Reverberation, and of course, the Red Mist. The pinnacle of all fixers when it comes to strength.”
Talulah hummed at the new information she was getting. “And the districts?”
Sieghart smirked under the bamboo hat, letting his office mates do the talking. He turned his head forward and led his Office back into the City with someone. Maybe this wasn’t a bust after all!
The voice in his head definitely agreed based on her amused giggles.