She shifted for a more mock human. She focused senses back to the minimum format that her features can flex into. She softly then brought out the tools needed and began unscrewing the bolts that blocked this vent. The grate landed on a carpet with minimum sound. She leans at the wall on leaving the danger of the air ducts. Her eyes tracing the local area. She soon noticed this being a familiar area. Her eyes dragged the carpets, the wallpaper peel and then slowly seeing there is display cases. She drifted about the materials these cases are made from. She leans seeing that there inside of a massive bank vault door as the only exit.
She knocked her head back and listened into the air duct tunnels she came from, nothing was crawling. She settles her focus with checking her body for wounds, checking her hunger and staring at this gloomy closed space.
Her eyes would dot about, there was tall shelving cases with multiple different types candle stands. There was a lot of estate house fancy silverware. Her shadow senses reaches that silver that is cramped in every possible nook and cranny. Most pieces were tarnished with age and the air has a metal tang that added to the aging. Serving dishes for centre pieces. The is pieces she scenes in movies and period films.
She slowly got herself off the floor. A chill flexed in her spine. The room wavered, the sense of the chime gongs deep in the bones and half the items disappeared. The air duct was smaller, no human could have crawled from that. She looked at how her outfit was changed.
She was in a posture of contemplating life chooses. Bandages across torso, a collar with a orange light that blips. The light blinks faster as she notice that she has a slate of crystal hung on her belt with small pouches. There was a soft jolt of recounting that she is 'owned'. She wasn't locked in here on purpose, rather this was accidental left behind. She had been staring at an object as they moved on to other vault rooms. She sits back at the spot that she was staring into a massive crystal ball that is the diameter of a car wheel, set on a made stone carved base. She stood up right with pawing about the top of it. As the air pressure shifts, the vault swings open. The collar is slow blinks in a blue now. She doesn't look up at all.
"We don't need it, come on. Leave the rock alone." She tilts with inspecting them deeply and petting the stone, "I have enough problems, I can't carry it too." She slide gaze at the dealer. The dealer shivered backed off a little. She pats the stone a little last bit and lowered back to all fours. She finds this is the natural way she has been. This was the way she currently moved instinctively at a subconscious level. Gentle walks following, she eyes the air duct a last time with a drift of her shadow power slapping the bolts tightly.
She steps gentle with following the other end of this collar signal. She sits near their feet, not they have them as they stood backed away for the closing the vault door. A sharp pain followed as the air compressed closed. She mentally had a massive information drop through her head in just staring into the vault door. She was laying flat on the floor like a puppet cut of strings.
'The Square Mile, often referred to as the heart of London, is a historic and influential area that covers just 1.12 square miles. It is home to the London Stock Exchange, the Bank of England, and many international banks, making it one of the world's leading financial centres. The area is known for its unique political status, separate from Greater London, and its distinct governance structure. The Square Mile is also home to the Lord Mayor of London, who represents the City's interests, especially in finance, and is supported by 25 Aldermen. The area has a rich history dating back to the Roman settlement of Londinium around 47-50 CE and has been a commercial and administrative centre since then. The City of London is run by the City of London Corporation, a unique governing body with no direct equivalent in the UK.'
The biggest secret about this heart is the long mile corridor, massive security detail at both ends of this mile length that even lower down then the underground tracks. This place is so air tight with four core iron doors that segment the mile. There is small service access stairwells that are secret safety passages for the wealthy to keep away from the public. Each segment belongs to the plot of wealth seated above it. Only those in the wealthy and fame circles, they know this secret.
'The silver mile'. Each segment between Iron doors are vaults on either side. There is a particular segment that give the mile it's name sake. It is the largest middle of this mile core - containing the largest collections of gold, silver and historical priceless pieces. They added bullet proof windows into this sector. It is for show casing styles and era of silver and raw exclusive materials. One large room is a set period of silver from an era. There are other vaults parts for expensive gold plating and embedded gemstone type items. There was a vault area for chalice, cups, and trophies. There was a chamber of stones - so rare and expensive.
The current crowd (which shouldn't be here at all) was Clothus and slaves attached to them. She sits eyeing the range of ranks and names. She was sharp in watching the group that approached with causal speak. Clothus speak in body, hand postures and words. Constantly talking. They do not shut up. This lot were waiting for her collar keeper. They want to leave. She sees that the folks that control of security measure. Unnatural beings that puppet bodies that are preventing any Clothus magic use. Strange light sconces of cold black flames preventing the bending of laws. Guarded by golem statues of runic nature. She shook the information dump away, and eye's back on the focus.
"Well then, it has been a pleasure." The tour guide does all these extra posturing and puffing, "Total cost is sorted at the exit window." She traced eyes over the vault she is leaving from. A knowing she was coming back this way.
"Did you take anything?" They look at her.
"It is already been sorted." She finds this throat isn't used at all and very gravely. She tilts eyeing the way out and back to the vault door.
"So you are smarter then you look." The lowest ranker of the group eye rolls, hands mocking her for animalistic tendencies and the eyes that drag about her sitting directly on the floor. The elder smacked the low ranker in the side.
"Excuse me." She stood up to taller height and stood over the servant with her inventory manifest for this vault sector. Noting how many of these rooms she owns and what has what in them. She examines deeply for soul based objects she needed to appease and up keep. Plenty of these vaults have crossed over tome objects, paradelle-worlds items that been saved from being erased. Plenty of soul objects from tomes long moved on and changed. Plenty of the many objects that are contained here are plenty of her shadow pocket... so this literal place is part of her tome and shadow space. This fact made sense of the runic security measure and the Clothus access here. All these objects are living realm only materials, it can not be crossed over to heaven or hell. There is rituals and ways to cross these objects into undertaker realms, damned powers and purgatory mid realms.
She lowers to the servant with speaking small tones of instruction about items. She was teaching the servant about sealing objects properly, and what to do if an 'object' becomes erratic or touched by unwelcomed hands. The servant nods quickly and runs to sort her orders. She took out an ordinary ball point pen and began new marks with updating to her current smarts of what things actually are. Noting the realms the objects auras contain and the potential crossing issues. She lowered down with being in compiling deep records, pen making swift corrections and importance markers.
"Here you are, my lady." The servant was back with presenting the item she requested just now. She swaps with the finished manifest tome. The servant openly stares at the swap with deep vibrations of nerve. They lowered themselves as the go to open the edited inventory book.
The shiver stopped as the book was completely rework; as if decades was spent in sewing the pages new arrangements and new organizational keeping. There is even a double book entry keeping section for regular client exchanges. Especially for clients that do not trade money or seemly useless valued goods. The servant kept turning pages with a dull dazed further. Trying to understand her extreme change. The pages worn thin in repetitive patterns and whole segments sewn into the binding. There was plenty of strange symbolic runes that are uniquely her own language throughout, on corners of some pages as markers. There a slow thumb about how the servant closed the inventory manifest and very distant eyes are soon climbing her figure. On reaching where eyes should be, the servant was shivering once more.
"That will be all for now. Go make sure that you report to the area manager. Don't make my books sloppy." The being collapsed across the floor, holding the manifest to dear life.
She lowered back to all fours. She tilts with being sorry for the poor health of the worker. A soft little bit of shake of their arm, and its clear this servant is OK. Just unconscious. Folks are quick to scoop the servant out of the way and provide decency of outward manners. She rolls a shoulder while scanning the area.
"Are you wealthier then me?" The being that has her collar pulled her attention to them. She examines the guy deeply with trying to figure out why she needs the gig of being a collar slave. She clicked her shoulder back into the socket.
"I don't think the terms we use are the same concept. I look after a lot of things. Doesn't exactly mean I am richer in value materials. Materials wealth is meaningless to the scale." She gentle wafted her left front paw, "Why chase money when you goals is what you use it on? If you can achieve what you need and wanted to become without bothering forcing it into a monetary obligation." She rolled the joint for a pause, "Money isn't a smile or a full stomach. Its the means of exchange to get those things. And there seems a sort of difference in buying a smile and being rewarded to have the same smile without a price tag."
"Now I understand." The elder among the group nods, "You're an old soul. Not everyone can see the view of beings like you and me." He held a respectful gaze, "We should be leaving." Reminded everyone. They all moved walking the corridor to the one way exit. She trots freely behind guy; the tug of fate threads that ties her lifeline.
"A pleasure concluding exchanges with you, mythical lady." Bows of folks as they leave the security check leave and pay counters. Someone there with posturing about a massive sack on the floor for her collection. She slung it easily on herself. The sack soon sunk through her, seemingly became more parts of herself. There was a few snapping parts, changing her overall shape into a closer to being a nightmare monster among then a mutant small no one.
"Wait. Wait a moment!" The team lead for this group stepped right to the guy that has her collar and then spun to impose some sort of authority over, "You might have the item I am looking for. You had it this whole time and I was just overlooked you for your appearance."
The team lead soon makes a bunch of postures in relating to exchanging items and their unique ranking ID. This Clothus does all the right things that she cares about most when handing such triple talkers. They want a soul contained item but they don't actively want to own the soul of the item they seek. The same sort of way of death gods get around not breaking soul laws. There an interesting tangent of ranking societies this guy is connected to - being some sort of administration judging souls. The trade they are seeking is related - a tool or admin key into a vault. A sort of asking for a lost object that provided a granting to such soul grants. She softly was soon nodding about the frantic gestures as she had none left to provide.
"Access into the duty segment of the heavenly realms." She hummed softly in understanding that much, he stares deeply in hope, "I guess I did create the soul tome to soul categories for those managing heavenly administrations. It was so I could make a unified sense of serval universe systems." She tilted with closing her eyes, several types of sight closed softly for a moment, "I mostly was just trying to grasp the layers of curtains and used tomes to organize that into a uniformed enough grasp." She wiggled her left hand through into her body, "Accessing the book..." She managed to pull the exact book and it became material through her flesh. The Clothus backed off hissing in fear reflex. She opened new eyes to glance about the book in her hands, "Mmmm... there isn't anything bad or wrong about the current order of these souls." She twisted with more senses opening and feeling the names in the tome, "Ah, a debt is owned." She looked about the god editing this tome and the access key they used to it, "Mmm... I shouldn't meddle." She sunk this book through back into her body parts, "You should have asked the death god realm, more exactly the basement in the metal workers department. You will need to ask someone to commission the lost item or remake of the item there. The soul material needed to craft such an access key is with the permission of the key itself. They always hang out in the same groups, a metal thing will be with others of its kind." She shifted her sight about to fix back to the suited with her current.
"I am going to be honest with you lot. You should never ask someone from the abyss to help. They don't follow the rules and don't see the boundries." Someone nearby commented in having nosed into the business, "Lady Mythic here is her own brand of nightmare's horror... so her view of life and death isn't like our own." She scanned the undertaker, "I don't really know why she willingly acting the way she is. She could have came here instantly without the security pass."
"I trust in myself and whatever reasons my life lead to now. There isn't a point in questioning anything." She shrugs, "Access into the heavenly records is to be done with pure intentions. The souls written on those pages will judge you."
"I don't think a Clothus would have access. Or be allowed access." the undertaker tuts.
"Of course they do. Every soul has a part and place, every thing has intentions. You must be true to your soul and to those you edit. Especially in the Heavenly books, they are not as white snow as they make out to be. You mustn't assume anything. Souls are abnormal things." And with these heed of abnormal words. The undertaker shook softly after a long enough pause, even the group of the Clothus weren't hand flapping. Bodies locked between the leader, the owner of her collar and the undertaker in the worn black funeral wear. The breach of business means there wasn't any worth of exchange and no debts.
"I guess we must try other antique stores and other private collection owners." The wise one pats shoulder and they properly go through the security. Waiting to make last balances with the cash out windows and the runes that scan souls. Upon reaching back to the street level, mingling among the current world's setting. A place full of mutants, resentment souls and the occasional teams. Hunters... Oath keepers... Survival groups. The labels change but the purpose hasn't. Plenty of eyes are judging; looking for threat or prey.
"Well, you fulfilled the deal that I asked for. Not only did you allow us in. You let us brows the items." Hands softly reached around her neck, unclipping the light tracker collar. He bows softly with her, "Have you took your price?" She measured these Clothus. She then checked her crystal slate for the task, reward and took the signature needed for the system update. The most recent request is now being filled as success and the auto-banking system paid out to her private credits. She checked that this life is once by the hunter system. She is an abnormal hire with a page of rules. Anyone can hire, and she is a regular on payroll to several stops within the Londinium. She isn't however on stable forced work. It is job to job.
"Will we meet again?" The person that finished the transaction asked.
"No one knows. The worlds work in mysterious ways." She softly chuckles. The Clothus leave her behind, and that Undertaker leaves away from danger of the living realm. She shifted her shape to suit as a mutant type, walking on all fours and trotting along with what life gifts. She took pause to one the tube station entries, as the melting of the world shifted. The gong of the iconic bell hollows.
She is stood looking down of a even dirtier stairwell, of trash and bones. The people around her looking at her for guidance. She looked at her wrist of a watch, the new hour clearly ticks by. She already knew that she will have to use the tube station to go back.
"Excuse me, but that place smells like death! Are you really human?"
"When did I ever explain what I am?" She tuts at them, "It is your mistake to blindly trust. Thankfully, I am good soul with dirty hands. I have good reasons for everything I choose and do. Going with the..." She looked about her body and slowly rolled over the group, "Current new hour. We are on time. The platforms should slower. Don't forget to buy your tickets. They are particular for paying your way." She began walking down the steps, "It matters not of living or dead. They are always gaurding the paths." The group rushes to follow after her.
"She changed."
"Yup and that soul adapted so deeply... I am actually sure that isn't a human." they both jolt with feeling a hot slap across their backs. There was no one visible to them as the turned to see. They rushed forwards to avoid the invisible. A single being that been following them coldly behind shot up with shock.
"She changed." repeating this observing fact. Putting this into the system quickly to pass on the strange heed. The tail softly approached and walks down the steps into the underground.
"Right and my objective now is what?" She pulled out her phone, then her crystal slate and then she looked upon the hub in her personal sight... the crystal frosting that becomes her own personal argument reality. She reads a few messages and softly focuses with approaching the ticket machines. She taps it light, then it shot to life. Powering up, booting up and then she signed the system permissions. She looked about the group, sorted a group ticket deal. She taps away with making sure to pay for multiple stations that they will be crossing. Plans to cross to the other side of London.
Meanwhile there is a full scale battle, screaming people with slashed wounds. A massive shape lifted a whole person, throw them across the gate and slashed for another being. Orders for divine god prayers were soon casting judgement bindings, chains of intent wrapping over the mass being. The cold guy that been following was soon joining in the fight saving lives and pulling the unable to move out of the way. Right at the heat of the battle was coming to a stand still. The chains pulled the mass to stand tense and the group backed off with their injuries.
She turned around with holding the tickets. She then gave her lip a big pout.
"Seriously? I got the tickets." She wafted the printed paper, "You acted to soon guardian." She stomps right over at the mass, "See Following the rules. You know. I know." She pats the paper to boop the mass and it shivers meeting her eyes, "Play by the rules." It nods. She takes the metaphorical chains off the mass, and it flees faster then she can claw it back. The team looked at how she makes the binds into real loud clinking chains. These chains soon were rusting but she let these chains go before they became sand.
"I have a lot of questions." Someone shouted to them all.
"Careful what you ask from the thing that came back from the abyss." her cold tail that has came to be a hero, gave a stern huff while helping to tie wounds close, "It doesn't see the world around us like we do. In fact, there isn't a face or eyes at all... those are decoration."
"Oh, he knows my real side." She snickered, "Mmm?" She steps right over and picked them off the floor, inspecting them deeply, "I see. You are not my husband. Yet, I know that mask. Respect as always dear." She stands the guy gentle on his feet, "You came to make sure I wasn't a trouble. You understand how easy it is to be lost in London. I entered the labyrinth and exited from the wrong exit. I left them behind, not meaning to. I have to go back in and make sure they stay strong." The being before her now understood plenty of why she was here and that it was by her abnormal way of traversing across plains by abnormal gateways. That she has a destination in mind and has no intent of being a danger. That she is a passer-by, a dangerous one. With knowing her stances, the hero of the hour now turned over at these folks whom are borrowing her serve for some mission. He checked them over with the crystal undertaker slate, that was a notepad on first removal. She sparked a little giggle in seeing the echo of her husband in such a damned shadow.
"Our contract actually ended upon reaching those stairs. She shifted personality the second we reached this location. We were expecting her to disappear after touching the stairs." The show her guidance marker that is torn in two, proving to be a finished spent ritual of summoning.
"Whoever told you to use her as a guide didn't warn you properly. They must have been someone very dangerous too or someone hoping for you're death. The fact she came in being instead of her shadow echo just proved how close to dying you were to take this journey." She tossed their group tickets to them, from the moment it flustered out of her hands as paper, this landed as a solid plastic cards at each of them. She gives a playful little wave. She walks to the ticket gate, scans her personal ticket and when she walked through. She walked through a murky gloom that shrouded her to disappear. Her wrist watch chimed, and the zone shifts. She watched the worlds shifted.
"The shifting is changing... it melted and now it just snaps like a glitched screen." she poses in saying her thought out loud, she noticed she was a mutant mut. Seated low at the floor. Being in the way. She got up, shakes a little and sits back down with hearing notifications. Her hub of her crystal sight shows a summary at the side of her. Requesting her trades.... she narrows deeply in who exactly that marker was.
"Platform 9." She noted, "This better not be a Harry Potter cross over." She snapped and trots simply following the station tube maps. Seated on the right trains. She makes it around the corner of a pillar and with quickly back counting. She sighs in relief that it was not the real platform nine and three quarters. She softly sits at the edge of the current situation; eyeing the four mage humans with attached faiths of gods. She slide side eye with there being a death god paper avatar - a prayer slips made manifested being. She chooses to stare deeply of what this was going to walk into being. Her system reminds her of the request and who asked of her.
"So, what are we waiting for?" Arrogance tuts in one mage.
"Lord Death, a good day to you." She finally approached with pulling to a small child height and taking a harmless innocent appearance. She softly pulled at the paper model, gentle as it was the paper mode that requested her.
"I keep making debts I can not pay." he crossed his arms, "You're soul mate is out of my watch, if that's any comfort to you." She smiled gentle, "My wife is pleased by your trades and my eldest child seems to be traded well in your system." She softly nods of this, "My eldest daughter married one of your children, some sort of time breach rift event. I can not get my mind over the logistics." She nods softly in this part to, "The current events." He poses to the four god tied humans, she studies them... then she took hold of the tome in Death's hand directly. She scans the page, sees the markers and gave back the tome. She stares at these four god followers in the same deep mirror gaze with the paper manifest of death.
"This is why we have god eaters." she sighed, "I want to guess the current laws and rules need a more delicate touch." Death nods with her, "They are literal walking corpses." he nods again, "You don't mind what method I take them?" He looked at her with a while of really taking that answer deeply.
"Intact. Not to many pieces damaged if you please." he looked back forwards, "You know what Taz would do." She shivered in hearing this soul name causally... the real name of a god that only her husband would ever use causally. Thus this meant this version of events means death treats her in her knowing. Knowing she sees gods like average people. She thinks deeply of what else this can mean.
"You think that Lady summoning is ok with me borrowing a few corridors?" death shrugs unsure, "I am sure I will give tribute to the lady. I don't want to bother her with useless tasks."
She steps right in checking each of these mage humans. She poked them each, they are stiffened paralyzed as they are stood. Exactly the way they are. She pick pockets them, seals a few artifacts for the trip. She walked around to a wall, took a crayon wax summoning clay and with a swift practiced hand. She makes a door. She feeds the doorway meat stripes. Upon the crossing satisfies its stomach, she can 'safely' walk them through. She shadow cloth snatched the four mages. The soft flutter the paper prayers unfold and fade for this version of death avatar leaves this platform.
She walked the statues across the boundaries within the 2 dimension drawing with ease and she exits to the correct curtains. Into another time zone, putting the people to stand exactly as they were before. She undoes her seals off their kit. She poked them with the agent to undo the paralyzing poison. She opened the tome up, name edits and back the book was fixed to her body when they break out of the spell. Dropped at their knees with many feelings and strange energy passings through their souls. She picked this exact moment and spot of this platform because there is already a death tome editor stood here waiting. Waiting for her with this exact four names of mages. A exact pose of his finger pointed at the exact moment she exited out of the drawing on the platform wall.
"Here." A pouch of many death coins are tossed to her, paying her for delivery, "They are in better conditions then I thought." This one has already the tome at arms length, began editing.
"They will be numb for a few hours. No sense of smell or taste for a day. Their divine energy will have buffer issues. A casting might fail or be tainted with my energy." She listed these issues like its another week day, "The outcomes ahead are dangerous, these are factors that would put Fate and Omens in to not bicker for a bit."
This death throws another item. She caught it, inspected the death god metal item. A soulless, a corpse of what was a scythe in duty. She pets it softly, soon adding it into her body. This grim keeper snarls a little to that strange choose. He helps the four guys away from this train station. Speaking swiftly and careful in knowing she hears.
She watched them leave her behind, she sees that request fulfilled and it automatically taking her payment to accounted. Everything is being properly done through the sigil crystal system.
She checked the surroundings another time. The crowd doesnt have any tell for what century it is. This platform of trains are modern enough but not like she could name the year. She slides at the lack of adverts. Not a lot going on for her to catch a direction with. She cleans after herself, a good enough rag wipping the crayon exit. Making herself part of the scenery while spying.
Then it happened. She drill stare exactly to some graffiti along staff only side tunnel for maintaining tube secrtor. She could see it is her own art... a time of her life that afterlife walking was done in years of sleep dreaming. She softly navigating the crowds and slipped into the artwork. Crossing onto old areas.