The candlelight danced across crystal glasses and silver cutlery, casting long shadows across the regal dining table.
Two pairs of hands on either side of the table fiddled with the meals before them.
One set was thick, pudgy and adorned with rings .
The fork speared the steak, tearing through the meat before shoving it into a mouth that chewed with all the elegance of a garbage disposal.
The other set were slender, every slice indicating that they weren't the type to clear their plates, but they often left it looking cleaner than the ones who did.
"The sales of our goods....." said the fat man, his words muffled by the half chewed beef threatening to spill from his lips.
A guard in a black suit and helmet quickly stepped forward with a napkin, dabbing at the corners of his employer's mouth.
"Has been going smoothly, I assume?"
"Smoothly enough." Said the slim man with his measured voice. "Your insiders have performed admirably."
"Of course they did" The fat man let out a wet and unpleasant laugh. "You think I got where I am by being sloppy? My people are professionals. Best in the business."
He stabbed another piece of steak, this one bleeding red onto the white porcelain plate.
"Which is why I deserve a raise in my cut. Forty percent increase is more than fair for the risks I'm taking."
"Ah, ah, ah.....You'll get what you deserve in due time." the slim man countered, his fork pausing mid-cut. "Especially considering the merchandise practically sells itself. Your role is purely... logistical."
"Logistical?" The fat man's chewing got slower, his jowls working the meat like a cow with cud. "I provide the infrastructure, the connections and most importantly, the protection from Arcanum's prying eyes. Without me, your little science project doesn't reach a single customer."
The slim man set down his fork.
"there's another matter I wanted to discuss."
the slim man said carefully. "Montez."
"What about him?"
"Haven't been able to contact him since the incident with Landers. Was assuming you'd know something."
The fat man shrugged and took a sip of his wine.
"Haven't heard a thing. His probably lying low after making such a mess, can't say I blame him."
"Interesting." The slim man took a sip of his own wine. "Because I have it on good authority that Montez contacted you three days ago. Something about merchandise that needed secure storage."
The fat man's chewing slowed again.
"Maybe your authority has been telling one two many lies."
"Is it though?" The slim man set down his glass. "Because the merchandise in question matches the description of certain items that went missing from one of Q's secure facilities. Items that Q is very interested in recovering."
"Mr. Azzuri." The slim man's voice took on a sharper edge. "I think we're past the point of denying it. The package Montez left with you, I need to know its current location."
The fat man, Azzuri stopped chewing entirely.
The moment he set down his fork and knife, all the guards arround the room took out their weapons.
"You know what's funny?" Azzuri's voice had lost all traces of joviality. "I knew you were full of shit the moment you walked through my door."
The slim man's pleasant expression froze.
"I'm afraid I don't—"
"You claim to be the middle man Q said he would send over." Azzuri's posture was predatory. "And what you've said so far shows you aren't."
He leaned forward, his massive bulk shifting in the chair.
"Because Q is the one who sent Montez to give me the merchandise to keep safe in the first place"
The slim man's hand twitched toward his jacket and flew into either side of it drawing two pistols.
"Fire," screamed Azzuri.
The jig was up and Calvin Esposito's green eyes glistened. He dove behind the table, gunfire shattering the crystal and splintered wood.
the green mark on his shoulder glowed beneath the expensive suit, his crest was activated.
The bullets begun to slow down mid-flight and redirect, bending around him like water flowing around a stone.
He fired back, his own pistols barking in rapid succession. His magnetic abilities caught each bullet the moment it left the barrel, accelerating some to armor-piercing velocities while slowing others to non-lethal speeds.
The rounds curved through the air, seeking gaps in the guards' formations.
One bullet struck a guard's weapon, shattering the firing mechanism.
Another curved around a pillar to strike a guard in the knee. slow enough not to kill,but fast enough to incapacitate.
More guards poured in and Azzuri was already being hustled toward a secure exit.
That's when one of the guards in the escort turned on his companions.
They grabbed one guards weapon following up with an elbow strike that dropped the man instantly.
The second escort guard turned, raising his rifle.
But they were faster.
A sword made out of light, quickly disarming the escort with a single slash.
"Everything you've said has been recorded," the guard announced, voice distorted by the helmet. "You will answer to the empire for your crimes Robert Azzuri."
Azzuri's face purpled with rage.
A boot connected with the guard's chest.
The impact sent them flying backward, armor cracking and body hitting the wall hard enough to leave a lasting impression.
The guard who'd delivered the kick was massive. Easily six and a half feet, pneuma radiating from him in visible waves.
More guards flooded in, at least twenty. All heavily armed and combat trained.
The helmet of the guard who was kicked away cracked falling into pieces.
Josephine Rodriguez pushed herself up, and had one hand pressed against ribs that were definitely bruised.
"Calvin!" she called out, manifesting her light bow. "Regroup!"
Calvin vaulted over the remains of the dining table still shooting and reached Josephine's position, pressing his back against hers.
They moved as one, fighting toward the exit Azzuri had taken.
Calvin's crest worked overtime, bullets flying in curves and spirals, redirecting enemy fire and turning their ammunition against them.
"Luna!" Calvin shouted into his comm. "We need area denial! Make sure no more guards can reach Azzuri's office!"
Luna's flat voice crackled back: "Acknowledged."
They burst through doorways, up stairways and through hallways lined with expensive artwork and guards who wanted them dead.
Calvin's pistols clicked empty.
Butt he didn't relaod, instead every spent casing on the floor rose into the air.
"Josephine, duck!"
She dropped, and the brass casings shot forward like striking armor joints, helmet visors and weapon grips.
The Guards went down clutching their hands, their faces, their knees.
They rounded corners, climbed stairs, fought their way up three floors.
The east wing stretched before them, a long corridor lined with mahogany doors.
At the far end, massive oak doors stood slightly ajar.
They approached cautiously, and that's when they saw him the guard who'd kicked Josephine
He was dead.
Pinned to the doorframe like a grotesque decoration, a throwing knife buried hilt-deep through his helmet the skull beneath it
Blood ran down the doorframe in rivulets.
Calvin swallowed hard.
They entered the office slowly, weapons ready.
It had excessive deep velvet carpets, mahogany paneling, a chandelier, gilded paintings, leather furniture.....
And blood.
Guards lay scattered across the floor. Some missing limbs. Others with wounds that suggested quick but brutal deaths. The velvet carpet was soaked through, squelching underfoot.
At the far end of the office, behind the massive oak desk, a leather chair was spinning slowly.
And in front of the desk, slumped against the polished wood was Robert Azzuri.
His expensive suit was shredded across the chest, two perfect sword slashes that had opened him from shoulder to hip.
His eyes were still open, staring at nothing and his mouth frozen in shock and terror.
The chair finally completed its rotation and stopped
The Blue Reaper sat with his right fist pressed against his cheek and his elbow resting on the chair's arm in a pose depicting boredom.
His katana lay across the desk before him, still wet with blood that dripped slowly onto the expensive wood.
His mask concealed most of his expression, but those eyes...
Those glowing blue eyes.
The candlelight from the desk lamp cast his shadow long across the wall behind him, making him look larger than life.
Making him look like death itself.
Calvin and Josephine stood frozen in the doorway, their minds trying to process the scene before them.