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Chapter 19
🕑 Added 2024-12-17 21:52:04 +0000 UTCArtemvian Delacreau Moneti held up the diamond to the streetlight, “This way.”
They were in the yet another bad part of the neighborhood. Lack of pedestrians and a general sense of being unsafe lingered around the place. Large apartments stood, barren and lonely; casting weeping shadows over the street lamps like great willow trees.
“Lots of barren places in Nero City.” Artemvian commented.
“That’s what happens when jobs change just as fast as fast fashion.” Celine didn’t have her gun out, but held her hand near it. “People think they have stability at last, only for large corporations to scrap the whole thing. A once booming neighborhood turns into nothing at the drop of a hat.”
“Hngh.” Artemvian replied, focused on the diamond.
“So did you really need the diamond for this… tracking spell?” Celine asked.
“Hng.” Artemvian replied. Really, the answer was ‘no’. He could have done it without the diamond. Albeit, it would have been more difficult; but Celine didn’t need to know that Artemvian simply wanted to check how well the stones of this world reacted to his magic.
“Fine, don’t answer.” Celine shook her head. She was curious about Artemvian’s strange magic and more importantly, how diverse the spectrum of his talents yet. But like she admitted in the car, this was a trial of sorts. A pre-interview.
She had a feeling that Artemvian hand’t even begun to show off yet.
“We’re close.” Artemvian said at last and tossed the diamond to Celine. “Do you feel that?”
“I’m not a Special, or a Mage.” Celine caught the diamond and glared at Artemvian. “Do you know how much this thing costs?”
“Chump change to our clients.” Artemvian quipped. He spread out his palm, sensing the ambient magical energy in the air. “That way.”
They walked a few more feet and found a small gap between two apartment buildings. They squeezed through and found themselves about fifty feet away from the opening of an apartment. But unlike the others, it was rather flat –being only two stories tall. There was a drum barrel in front of the entrance with a fire going on inside. Half a dozen men loitered around the thing, laughing and talking.
Without hesitation, Artemvian began walking towards them.
“Wait.” Celine grabbed his shoulder. “I think they’re gang members.”
“Which gang?” Artemvian asked. The air was thick with magic. Whatever gang this way, they were talented. Perhaps Specials of a higher power, or even Mages.
“They’re called the Third Eye.” Celine’s grip loosened. “Are you sure this is the right place?”
“I’m sensing the same magic that I sensed from the Daemon from these guys. I don’t know how they’re related but they’re related to this somehow. I’m sure of it.” Artemvian replied. “Besides, we’re just talking,” He rolled his eyes. “Pleaseeeeee, mom? Can I go talk to those bad men?”
Celine searched Artemvian’s eyes, seeming to weigh something. “Fine, but I take point.”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
The agent unlocked the safety on her gun and walked in front of Artemvian, heading towards the group around the fire. As they neared, the one of the men noticed the two and alerted the others. They fell quiet as Celine and Artemvian stood a few feet away, just out of the emberic shine of the drum barrel’s fire. Artemvian absently noticed that there was a faint humming coming from Celine’s body –the sound of Cybernetic Enhancements coming to life.
“Agent Alvarez, with the Nero City Police.” Celine flashed her badge, the hologram coming to life briefly before she closed it. “I have some questions for you all.”
The man nearest to them, a thin reedy man wearing a beanie was the first to reply. “We don’t like coppers around here.”
Artemvian immediately coined him with the moniker, Beanie Man, in his head.
“Just a couple of questions, fellas.” Celine kept her voice cool and smooth, but her hand was still near the firearm at her side.
The Beanie Man shared a look with his friends. “You got a warrant, girl?”
Celine’s body went still for a fraction of a second before she took a deep breath. “No. Like I said, just a couple of questions.”
“Nah, I ain’t talking to no copper, man.” Beanie man shared a wicked laugh with the others around him. “But if you want, I could take you for a ride. You won’t be talking much, cause your mouth will be busy. You know what I’m saying?” He laughed again, sauntering up to Celine.
Artemvian hung back, watching what Celine would do. Would she react with violence? Would she seduce the young man? In his world, most agents like her would have killed the men for such refractions.
Celine did neither. She ignored Beanie Man.
“No thanks.” Celine said easily, “Artemvian, did the tracking spell lead to them or inside the building?”
“Inside.” Artemvian answered.
“Good. We don’t have to waste our time with these guys then.” Then Celine tried to move past him.
The Beanie Man whirled, grabbing her by the elbow. “Wait a minute, Girl. You can’t just-”
Then, and only then, did Celine react with violence.
Celine shifted her weight, grabbing Beanie Man’s wrist and there was a definite whirring of machinery coming to life. Her legs pulsed with light from underneath her slacks, propelling her pivot with superhuman speed as the female agent slammed the Beanie Man into the ground.
The other five guys reacted with immediate threats. Two of them took out guns while the other three threw up their hands and snarled with the sound of a canine-like bark. Wriggling masses of tentacle-like spheres came to life in their hands.
Celine took out her gun, pointing it towards them.
But even before Celine touched her gun, the five onlookers were disabled.
Artemvian waved a hand.
A simple wave. That’s all he did.
And the two guns flew out of the men’s hands, sailing into the night sky and disappearing from view. The other three that had relied on magic were dealt with in less pleasant manners. The dark-tentacle-mass in their hands were snuffed out, like it were grabbed in a fist and tightly squeezed. Then in the same manner, the three men were brought up into the air and then slammed down so hard that there was the sound of crunching bone.
“Shit! It’s a mage!” One of the men went for their guns again.
“Shit! It’s a witch!” Artemvian cried, miming a finger gun and firing off a Mana Bullet towards the man –which hit him square in the forehead and sent him flying backwards, unconscious.
Then just for flair, Artemvian raised his hand and brought it down again.
Again, the three men were raised into the air and crushed into the ground. This time, there was no scream, no panicked sounds. Not even large audible crunches.
Just the sound of bone being ground to powder.
When that was all over, Celine had her gun out. She looked back at Artemvian with wide eyes.
Artemvian had never stepped into the glow of the fire. He had stayed in the building’s shadow. The only thing visible were his eyes, glowing with blue mana, leaving trails as he walked forward at last.
“These three are Witches.” Artemvian knelt down next to one of them. He grabbed the man’s face and tured it this way and that. “Rotten teeth, bloodshot eyes. A general yellowy complexion.”
“What the hell are witches?”
Ahhh, so this world didn’t know what Witches were.
“People who borrow power from Daemons. Dabbles with dark powers. They derive their magical powers by making deals with powerful otherwordly beings. Daemons, gods… other things.” Artemvian slapped the man’s cheek. “Hey, wakey, wakey. Time for breakfast.”
“This one’s awake.” Celine filed Artemvian's information away for later.
Artemvian kicked the man’s head as he got up, “Oops.” He said. Then while approaching the man that Celine had thrown on the ground, he made it a point to kick the head of the other gang members that were unconscious. He laughed giddily like a child jumping in rain puddles.
“One witch, two witch, three witch! This little piggy went to the bank! This little piggy-”
“Artemvian.” Celine said.
“Oh. Mmmhmm.” Artemvian cleared his throat and knelt next to Beanie Man. “Why, hello there, Beanie Man.”
“H-hey. W-we didn’t know you was a mage, Older Brother. No offense.” Beanie Man scrabbled to get up, “Nah, if we knew, we would’ve stayed out of your way. I swear. I’ll make myself gone now.”
“No no, stay awhile. Have some tea.” Artemvian smiled with lots and lots of teeth. “I have some questions to ask you. And please, don’t call me Older Brother. Witches and Mages are fundamentally different things.”
“Nah, I don’t know nuthing. Please, I’ll just-”
“Naaah,” Artemvian imitated Beanie Man, mocking him, “You know something. Please, stay.”
And with that, Artemvian flicked his finger towards the man’s knee, firing off a Mana Bullet and breaking the kneecap with another crunch.
“AAAAAAHHHH-Mmmmmmgmhmfdfgmm”
Artemvian took off the man’s beanie and stuffed it into the man’s mouth to stop the scream. “Oh shush, it doesn’t hurt that much.”
Celine stepped in between them, her eyes cold. “Artemvian, you’re out of line.”
The Mage stopped, and slowly, looked up at her.
Celine flinched.
Artemvian stood, his movement purposeful. He wasn’t a tall man, nor was he broad of shoulder. But Artemvian had an air about him, like when a kind man grows angry. Or the roar of the ocean on a stormy night.
“They’re witches.” Artemvian spat.
“So? You’re a Mage. What does that have to do with anything?”
“That’s because you probably don’t know the different between Witches and Mages. Witches have to make a deal for power.”
“So what?”
“There’s always a price for making a deal with a Daemon.” Artemvian stepped closer, and the night lamps shone fervently off of his pupils. “And the currency of Daemons are Lives and Souls. These three are killers.”
Celine narrowed her eyes. “Let’s say I believe you. Then I’m required by law to bring them in for question, not torture them in the middle of nowhere.”
“You said it yourself, they’re gang members. They killed.” Artemvian whispered, voice growing edged. “I’ll do what I like with them.”
The agent stepped forward. “Enough, Artemvian. No. Torture. They aren’t part of our case. I’ll notify Homicide. They can look into it.”
“They won’t find anything.” Artemvian backed off, pouting. Then, seemingly in an accident, in a display of pure pettiness and spite, he stepped on the back of Beanie Man’s legs.
“Mmmmmmhhhphphpphppphhhhh!” He said, eyes rolling back and growing unconscious.
“Oopsie-daisies.” Artemvian said with a smirk.
Celine gave him a frustrated growl. “Ok, you lead us here. What next? Now we have no one we could question. It’s a deadend.”
“I told you, they don’t matter. These guys were small-fry, the big french fry is in the building.”
“Yeah, but the commotion could have chased him away.”
“It didn’t,” Artemvian replied and turned to the doorway. “Come out, come out, wherever you are!”
As if on cue, the double metallic doors of the apartment opened up. From the door came out a fog, creeping towards Artemvian and Celine slowly. Artemvian raised a hand, fanning the air. The fog fell apart, dividing into two sides and creating a singular path.
Two figures walked out from the door.
A woman wearing a tight black mini-dress, hugging her curves. She had long black hair that fell straight to the middle of her back and despite it being the middle of the night, had sunglasses. She had black leather boots that came up to her knees and, of course, a black leather jacket the length of a crop top. The pale skin, the thick red lipstick only accentuated the woman’s ethereal moon-like appearance.
Behind her slinked another, dressed similarly. Leather jacket, leather combat boots and black jeans coupled with a white shirt. His hair fell to his shoulders in curls.
And both of them were beautiful beyond human comprehension.
Artemvian wolf-whistled. “Now, I call that a proper entrance.”
Then the mage kicked the air, sending a force of pure mana that hit the new man and sent him flying backwards into the building. The man was flung backwards, limbs splayed and disappeared with an accompanying crash of things breaking inside.
It happened so fast and so sudden that no one knew what to make of it. No warning at all.
The beautiful woman stared, eyes wide. Celine was speechless.
“Ding ding ding!” Artemvian spun in a circle, taking the bottom of his shirt and raising it to his chest like a soccer player, celebrating. “Goaaaaaaal!”
