After waiting for a while, Ikra went back to the interrogation room with Don. "He refused to put on the handcuffs." He told them before exiting the room and heading to where the others were.
"Don't you know its standard protocol to have them wear handcuffs at all times?" Wing asked him. "You make him wear them then, I'm not going through all that again." He complained.
Ikra was mad at Don's attitude with handcuffs. Each time he would try and put handcuffs on him, he would start to avoid them, quickly moving his hands around. He almost used his gift just to get him to wear them, but opted not to.
Wing sighed, he entered the room and sat down across Don. "I had never thought that your retirement would lead you to become a criminal." He narrowed his eyes, a cold stare that would've made anyone shutter.
He spoke out. "Truly a shame, becoming the very thing you hated."
"I decided to do what only I could," Don told him. "We weren't enacting justice, we were getting paid to do selective karma. When we get rid of some criminals, the ones that hired us, the other criminals, benefit from it."
"So?" Wing asked him, "We stay alive in these lands by knowing when to pull the trigger. We're not judges here, we're tools. We fought this war for justice, but for everyone else it's just a market."
They paused for a bit, the room filled with silence. "Don't you remember our last mission together?" He asked Wing, making him react.
"Are you really using the last memories we had of him as an excuse for your actions?" Although Don and Wing were a duo, they had been part of a team that operated across the continent.
"The Free City," Don reminded him. "We had been hired to investigate recent kidnappings of people from the Concordists faction." The talk went to what happened three years ago, when they were still operating...
Night fell over The Free City, the searing heat of the day was replaced with the whispering coolness that slides between the sandstone alleys and crumbling archways.
Lanterns flicker to life, some fueled by oil while others by strange desert gases. The Free City rose from the golden dust of the desert, like a mirage turned permanent.
Sun-bleached stone and metal towers stacked high above the dunes. Unlike the scattered settlements around the Badlands, The Free City defied isolation.
Its buildings were tall, mismatched structures of old-world steel and patched sandcrete were lashed together with wooden bridges, rope walkways, and hanging platforms.
It looked chaotic, but every beam had a purpose, every step a direction. In one building were four people, waiting patiently for their fifth to arrive.
One of them was throwing knives at an old propaganda poster. Its edges curled, ink faded but still proud. A smiling official in pristine uniform, arm raised in victory with eyes too bright to be trusted.
Thud.
The knife buries itself deep into the left eye. He doesn't smile. He doesn't breathe any harder. His hand returns to the belt at his side, fingers ghosting over the worn hilts polished smooth by practice.
Thud. Thud.
The second lands in the throat. The third, in the heart.
"You must really hate that guy, huh?" Someone sitting by the window told him. It was a woman who was still in her 20's. "What'd he do to you, Wheel?" She got up and started punching the air, "I'll make sure he won't do it again."
He went and picked up his knives, ripping off a piece of paper. "He sells himself as a hero. Like he built this city out of nothing…"
He read the torn piece he grabbed, VOTE FOR ELION. "He's just someone who's gunning to rule the city that people bled for."
"And you think sticking steel in his face on a wall's gonna change that?" She asked him, "Communities need someone to rely on, a single person to take on the blame."
She raised her arm, trying to grab the moon as if it were floating in the palm of her hands. "So when it all comes down, they have someone to blame other than themselves." She went to him, grabbing a knife and throwing it at the poster.
The hilt ended up hitting his face, making it bounce off the wall. "Guess not everyone's as talented as you, Wheel." She said before going to pick up the knives.
He smirked, "It's an honor to be called talented by the specialist of the group." Wheel went to a nearby table and started brandishing his knives.
"Wanna know why I hate heroes?"
She sat down, "Alright, what's the sob story? Whatever it is, it'll be better than trying to hang out with those two." She pointed at the other side of the room, there were two people discussing with each other there.
One of them noticed her, "What is it Frogo?" He asked her, "Can you let us discuss our plans in peace?" Frogo sighed, "All you do is discuss strategies Asel, doesn't it ever get boring for you, Wing?"
He narrowed his eyes as he looked at her, "Better safe than sorry." He continued on talking to Asel about strategies.
Frogo rolled her eyes, "So what's the story?" She asked Wheel. "People cheered for those who came with promises that were sharp enough to cut through fear."
"They idolized them, building statues and naming places in honor of them. But no one remembers the dark alleys, the ones which were still holding onto hope that one day those people would come and save them too."
He finished cleaning his knives and lit up a cigarette. "People say that they never stop fighting for us, but in reality they stop when the cameras do."
Wheel got another one out and offered it to her. She grabbed it, using her own lighter to light it up. "Isn't it a bit too demanding? They're human after all."
"That's the problem" he pointed at her, "They advertise themselves as the perfect solution, the person who comes in to save the day."
His hands formed a bird, making it fly around him. "Eyes so full of hope, so blinded by it that when the facade crumbles and the heroes drop dead..."
The bird stops, slowly falling until it crashes. "Reality comes crashing in and bites them." Wheel went back to throwing knives at the poster. "That's why when my hero died, I decided that relying on others was a waste of my time."
"Your last hero failed you, so you decided to take it to your own hands?" Frogo chuckled, "Well, if it works then it doesn't need fixing, right?"
She got up and threw her cigarette from the window. "How about you, Asel?" She looked at him, "I know you're listening, old men like you are nosy."
Asel stopped his talk with Wing and started to head towards them. "I think you're wrong," he bluntly told them. "You believe that relying on someone else is a waste of time just because it's failed you once?"
"Have you ever met someone who hasn't failed once?" His question was met with silence. Wheel couldn't come up with a response, but nothing about him said that Asel's words changed his mind.
"And you," Asel looked to Frogo. "Don't use me as a tool for your schemes again." She laughed, "Looks like I got caught." She ran towards Wing and got behind him, "Save me from the bad guy!"
Wing sighed at her, "I thought you people didn't need a hero," Wing brushed her off. "And it's your fault for picking the sharpest one as a tool for your schemes."
They suddenly fell silent as the door to the room opened up. An old man entered the room, his body looking as if he was still in his prime. "Late again?" Wing asked the person who entered the room. "Sorry, I got caught up in something." He quickly brushed himself off.
"Maybe if you didn't keep doing volunteer work you'd make it," Frogo scolded him. "It's not like you get paid for it or anything."
He scratched the back of his head, "Alright, alright. At least I'm here now, right?" He tried to lighten up the mood, awkwardly laughing.
"This time, we'll be doing an investigation." He got the mission files on the table and handed them out, "It's about the up and coming faction, The Ember Pact." Wheel ripped the poster and held it up, "This guy?"
"Yes, but we're not watching them." He told him, "We're watching for the perpetrators for the recent abductions of the Concordists faction members."
They flipped to the next page to reveal the missing people, all of them filled in crucial positions for the Concordists. "The ember faction, they're the upcoming one right?" Wing recalled.
"Yeah, the ones that's trying to change this damned system." Wheel explained, "The Concordist faction keeps acting like they're keeping control of the city when in reality they're just getting support from those in the capital."
The Ember Pact emerged after the citizens of the free city were pent up with how the current system worked. While the Concordists believed that true freedom is earned through shared responsibility and that avoiding chaos was what kept the free city different from others, The Ember Pact disagreed.
The Ember Pact believed that the city's current systems are rotten, benefitting those of high positions while punishing innocent civilians.
They believed that the city can transform through disruption. Their mission is to disrupt, reinvent, and force the city into a new era, even if it meant tearing down what it currently was.
"We'll be using Frogo to investigate the recent disappearance of Robert Sabri. He was said to disappear in a restaurant nearby." He flipped his file, prompting everyone else to flip theirs as well. There was a picture of a restaurant, its layout and employees.
Wing pointed at one of the employees, "Hey Asel, remember this guy?" He showed it to him. "That guy from a week ago," He took a quick glance before smiling. "Luckily, he owes us a favor."
"Alright, I guess it's decided." Wheel clapped his hands, "Asel and Wing do whatever they have going on while me and Frogo go do actual work." He then looked at the person who gave them the files, "And you go lookout for any suspicious people trying to cause trouble"
He smiled, "Of course, not like there would be any in the first place." He grabbed the files and stashed them away. "The name of Don has already spread far and wide decades before I inherited it." He said, confident in his skills.