[b][center]Allure City, Another Day in the life[/center][/b]

“Aleck, answer your phone. We need you to come back, there’s important things going on here. The Company is in turmoil, we already recalled the monster, you shouldn’t still be there either. Call me back.” His finger pressed the little red button, ending the voicemail call before he shut the phone back and put it in his pocket. A lot of people had smart phones these days, especially with the advancements of Xanathan and the other corporations that basically controlled the world. Yet, Aleck preferred his burners. Untraceable and cheap as shit, they’d always served him well. His sister was one of the others, the ones with the expensive, bulky things – though at this point, he was pretty sure she’d opted for the implant Xanathan offered its senior executives. She was insistent that he come home, though, but really – why? There was nothing left in Xanathan for him. Bharata was a madman, running the company like a personal army. 

He wasn’t the biggest fan of the company, never had been. He’d only signed on as a mercenary, and eventually became one of the top officers in the militia side of it. In fact, his status was why he’d been embedded in Allure to begin with. Long before it ended up here, before Xanathan ended up here. He still wasn’t entirely sure how they’d managed to find this place, or what happened for them to set up shop here. And yet, here they were. As the city settled into its new location, she’d already begun calling him. She’d known about his mission, hell it was her idea to send him on it, he’d bet. She’d never admit it, but Alex never did enjoy him being around. 

Smart, serious, and sensible described her. He was the exact opposite, depending on luck and charm to get his way.  It led to some weird family dinners, and their father always did favor his little princess. The thought of that made him sneer, a momentary break in his ever-smiling demeanor. It was a flash, a moment of disdain for his family, before he was back to himself. His mission wasn’t changed, as far as he was concerned with it. Infiltrate and observe. Watch and learn the habits of the aliens, the denizens of this massive city, which now took up the place where – if his education in Earth geography from his childhood held up – Spain used to be, a small country replaced by a sprawling metropolis. “Shit’s wild”, he said aloud as he pulled himself up from his chair. His news broadcasts were nothing but turmoil, and he was almost out of smokes. 

Walking to the corner store seemed simple, but Aleck knew he’d have to deal with the moochers nearby. Usually friendly and upbeat, today just wasn’t his day. He didn’t want to deal with those clowns and their incessant need to beg him for his last few credits. Besides, he barely had enough for himself right now. Checking his watch, he reached for the door – tucking his pistol into its place just behind his hip – and grabbing his bag from beside the door. 

Large, it was clearly a survival pack of some kind. A go-back most of his operators called it. It, to him, was just a comfort to have on him. A few extra magazines tucked here and there, as well as a couple on his person in easy reach tucked into the vest beneath his jacket. The bag contained his rifle, as well, Xanathan-made it featured several folding points that made it stowable in smaller compartments. His senses reached out, touching the familiar knot of emotions he kept locked away in the back of his mind – another of his small comforts. It let him know his sister was alive, as well as their father. Opening himself up to it, letting the thoughts inside, would give him as much information as he wanted, but it also opened his mind to them. And he refused to let them in, not anymore. His ritual completed, he opened the door and stepped outside, reaching down to check for his keys, and then realized he forgot them. “Well, fuck.” He pushed the door back open and reached up to the knife stuck in the wall – which held his keys looped around the hilt, and pulled it from where it was embedded in the picture of his father. “See ya’, Markus.”  He said, closing the door and locking it behind him. “Ya, fuckin’ prick.” 

[b][center]Aeternus Entrance, The Courtyard Leading to.[/center][/b]

Valkyr kept his ever-moving, slow pace toward the front of the Casino. His eyes losing their malicious glow with each step, the power receding from within him. The magic flowed strongly here, through his veins and into his organs (such as they were, anyway). It burned like fire rushing through him, boiling water in his veins as it battled against the very nature of his being. His essence, his power – it was like the rushing of a river, and yet calm and peaceful like the sea at the same time. Two parts of him, constantly at war within him. He sought only to find relief from it, to finally get some relief. Magnus refused to allow it, coercing him into things like this. Shutting the Casino down, as some affront to the name of Hell? This place was its own special kind of hell. Ten minutes, and he already felt the deep shame this land held. His fingers dug into his palms, fingers clenching tight into fists. His yellowed teeth gritting against themselves, jaw locking in frustration. 

“Why must I be this way, why must I do this? Let me rest, Magnus. Give me peace!” His words were audible only within his mind, reaching out to the edges of this realm – pushing them toward the outer regions of Hell, to the darkest recesses of him. Always an answer came, the sound of the control Magnus asserted over him. The deal made for eternal life; it held a lot of sway over his being. And yet…silence was the only answer. No return of voice, of command. Not even the dark laughter that usually accompanied his pleading for peace. 

For a moment, he dared to hope – his eyes widening and his mouth opening as if to exclaim some form of surprise. “Magnus…are you there?” Only silence. “Could it be true, surely not. He’s toying with me. I must continue forward, continue with the plan.” His body began gliding once more. The very fact his power worked here told him Magnus’ influence was still on him, that he still had a connection with the outside. It was a test. A test of his mettle and his resolve to do as he was told. He entered the courtyard just in time to hear a voice, and the overwhelming stench of human excrement. Not the man he needed to speak to, he could tell from how he was dressed – and the putrid odor swimming in the air around him. 

“Can you take me to the owner?” Valkyr’s graveled voice, double and triple layered sound, resonated with suggestive power. The words themselves seemed to hang in the air, encircling him and projecting themselves. “Or, if you can’t, could you point me in the direction of someone who can?” He meant the owner of this pocket world, this injected, shit-riddled realm that sought to attach itself to his home and become a part of it – even if only in this one, weird, small way. 

[b][center]Allure City, The Back Alleys of Sin[/center][/b]

The horrid scent of the air told him he was in the right place, the back alleys that served as places for drug dens and whorehouses. They littered this part of the city, at least two on every corner and four on most. The ground seemed forever sticky, though from what Aleck didn’t even want to think about. He didn’t really want to be here, but his cover depended on him doing business in this part of town. Mostly with one man, a guy who claimed to be comrade-in-arms with some of the biggest drug dealers in the city. Whose boss, apparently, ran a lucrative crime trade. Bharata sent him here to find the guy in charge, and though it’d been more than two years since his arrival in Allure, he didn’t really feel any closer to that goal. Pretty frustrating, really.
 
“Yo, Tommy, you around?” He called out, his voice bouncing back at him in the silence – broken only occasionally by the sound of rats digging through trash. Both homeless and animal alike, and sometimes the faint moans from one of the whore’s rooms upstairs. He hated the whole stench of the place, and he hated having to be here. His fingers curled around the grip of his pistol, easing it in the leather and fingering the safety switch off. Just in case. 

“Yo, Aleck, my man. You good?” The questioning tone came from behind him, and he almost drew his gun out of instinct. He recognized the voice, though, and turned with a smile on his face. “You need something, out here yelling my name in the streets like that?” 
“Yeah, man. I need some stuff. You know, it’s bout that time again. I just need something to get me through.”

“Aleck, you’ve got a problem man. You’re one of my best customers, and I enjoy the repeat business – but if you don’t slow down, you’re gonna die, man. You can’t keep going like this, and if you die that’s a lot of potential money I lose out on.” A savvy businessman, Tommy knew the secret to dealing. You never let your customers kill themselves on the supply, a dead customer is a customer who can’t spend money, after all. 

“Man, shut up and get me my stuff. I’m fine, I got control of it.” Aleck’s voice, friendly as it was, said he wasn’t going to argue with him. 

“Nah, man. I can’t let you do that today, besides – someone bought my supply out just a bit ago. Waiting on a call to pick up some more.” 
Instant rage. The anger washed over him like rain – or at least that’s what he showed on his face. He wasn’t really an addict, after all, just portraying one trying to get in with this man’s crew – hoping to work his way up to the big boys that ran things eventually. Though, he’d enjoy a bit of the Psispice a time or two. It wasn’t bad stuff, really, for most people it gave them visions – mild psychic moments. Nothing major. For Aleck, it was like doing literal crack, though. Psions shouldn’t be using psionic-enhancing drugs, an inheritance of his father’s power, Aleck had a strong affinity for telepathy. He could sense his sister and father from here, thousands of miles away after all. The first time he took the Psispice, though, he sensed everything. Everywhere. All at once. Or at least, that was how it felt to him – the whole of the planet’s thoughts seemed to flood into him at once, and he couldn’t turn it off. In ways, it was like the strongest psychedelic a man could take, and in others he made him want to end his own life just to shut it down. 

That feeling kept him from ever doing it again, anyway, so addiction wasn’t a concern for him. Tommy thought he was taking it, though, and he wanted him to think he was taking it. “Well, look man…just put me in touch with your guy already. I been a customer for a while, you can trust me, man.” 

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Aleck. Though, I don’t trust you. At all. It’s that he doesn’t trust you, man. Nobody trusts a junkie.” 
“Alright…alright. Just, let me know when your next shipment comes in man. I need that shit.” 

“Sure thing, Aleck.” 

Aleck turned to leave, taking a step or two before a sense of malice raised an alarm in his brain. He could easily find out who Tommy worked for, all it would take was reaching out with his mind, touching thoughts. That simple thing could end the mission right now. He’d started to do it once, when he first began trying to infiltrate it. The thoughts he saw in the other’s mind drove him crazy, though, the things the man had – the images in his mind. The things he did to people, for the pure joy of doing them, caused the bile to rise in Aleck’s throat.
 
Besides, telepathy made his job too easy – there wasn’t any challenge in it. Yet, now even without touching his mind he felt something sharp and painful stab at the control center of his brain. Something told him to move, that he needed to just slide slightly to the left, and he listened to those instincts clearly. 

In that same second, a flash of silver rushed past his neck – and punched at the air in front of him. The silver glint of a knife, sharpened tip protruding out the front of what – moments before – would have been Aleck’s throat. His body reacted purely out of instinct now, and Aleck grasped the other’s wrist, flinging his body around as he shifted his feet and used his hips to leverage the other’s body, flinging him over and slamming him into the asphalt of the alleyway back first, wrenching the knife from his hands. 

“The fuck, Tommy?” 

“Shut up, Xanathan Scum. You think we wouldn’t find out you been working for them? We always find out. Get him, boys.” Tommy screamed, as people began rushing out from the alley. Aleck almost opened his mind completely, ready to crush them under the weight of his psionic energy. Then he stopped, opting instead he launched himself directly at the first, the closest. His hand grabbing his own knife, pulling it from its sheathe and slashing through the air.
 
Not silver, but fiery red and burning red hot the laser-edged blade tore through flesh and bone smoothly, like butter the skin separated. For a second, blood sprayed and then the heat of the laser cauterized their wounds. His head turned and his right hand pulled his pistol up, the safety already off and the first round already chambered. Squeezing the trigger even before the gun was fully pulled up, the first round blasted off like thunder in the tight alley, the echo carrying it further than necessary. The round flew, and then it split – the mental control he held over metal manifesting in that moment – fragmenting the bullet in mid-air, adding velocity and power.
 
The fragments became fragments, tore themselves into smaller pieces and split a dozen times over – turning into like slivers of metal so small they’d be nearly invisible to the naked eye. Each one tore through a person, into their throat so precisely as to be surgical. As soon as the fight began, it was over – Aleck replaced his pistol in its holster, mentally activating the safety. 

And he looked down at the body of Tommy and sighed. He’d spent a good portion of his time here building his cover and getting in with this guy and his hoodlums for nothing now. The man’s body lay limp, unmoving except for the excited rising and falling of his chest. Eyes widened in fear, as Aleck knelt next to him. He picked up the other’s knife and ran it along his cheek for a moment. 
“How’d you know?” Aleck asked, genuinely curious. 

“Your sister. She called looking for you, explained that she heard my name in your mind. Thought that was weird, but whatever, you know? Said she needed to speak to you, about your mission to infiltrate the gang, to get to the leader. Ya’ know, always thought something was off about you. Apparently, your sister is a crazy fucking bi…” his words cut off as a death gurgle, his own knife buried deep into his throat. With a violent, teeth-gritting twist of the knife, Tommy’s head separated from his body. 

“Nobody calls Alex a bitch, Tommy.” Aleck said to the lifeless, glazed over eyes. At the same time, Aleck began rifling through the other’s clothes. Wallet, keys for his car and house, and plenty of free cash just hanging out in his pockets. Aleck definitely kept that for himself, and then pulled out Tommy’s phone – pocketing it before walking out of the alleyway. He opened the door to the other’s car, an import from the look of it. BMW, the steering wheel said. A good brand, though for some reason the letters were changed to BWM. Probably a knock-off reproduction from some company in Allure. 

He flipped through the on-board GPS settings, the most recent places. A casino kept popping up, several times he’d been there according to the tracking software, whose security was barely existent to an expert in advanced electronics. “Guess I’ll start there, eh?” He put the car in drive and took off. At the same time, opening his mind to his family for the first time in years. “You really are a fucking bitch, Alex.”