It was noon, and while the city's morning bustle had settled elsewhere, the Corinthian Cross thrived on its own relentless rhythm. This district was the lifeblood of Grayhaven's economy, and its arteries constantly clogged with human activity.
The air here was a study in contrasts. The damp, stone-dust chill of old Portland stone—a legacy of the city's colonial founders—clung to the shaded ground floors, while fifty stories above, the sun glinted off a skin of new glass and steel. It was a skyline where historic crests of lions and unicorns, carved into stubborn Victorian brick, were reflected and warped in the mirrored sides of corporate towers.
The whole district felt like a tense, polite standoff between deep-rooted history and aggressive, modern ambition.
From above, the district was large, spanning the northeast expanse of Grayhaven. Its epicenter was a dense cluster of high-rise buildings that rapidly gave way to standard-story offices the farther one got from the core.
Somewhere below, two blocks past a medium-sized high-rise, two men in black coats emerged from a taxi. They found themselves on a spacious sidewalk in front of a supermarket apartment block, one of many in the region.
Rainer casually spun his fedora on a finger, while Rommel unfolded a large map, squinting at it with difficulty.
He soon let out a low, drawn-out groan and glanced down the road.
"We may need to walk a little more..."
Rainer followed his gaze and sighed. "Well, I guess it's an opportunity to get a look at the district."
As they went down the road, Rainer made good on his word, taking in the soul of the district in his eyes:
The people.
The sharp click-clack of designer heels on pavement was the district's soundtrack, but a new, digital heartbeat was emerging.
He strolled past a trio of teenagers clustered on a polished granite bench that had once borne a royal monogram. One girl was laughing, holding a phone aloft as her friends executed a practiced, viral dance behind her.
The silent performance, meant for an unseen audience of millions, was a stark contrast to the suited professionals who flowed around them without a glance. The city's soul was being quietly rewritten, one algorithm at a time.
Turning his attention away, Rainer stopped twirling his hat and scrutinized it. A part of its crown was a smudge of black, partly melted, with burn holes peppering the brim.
His mouth quirked, and he glanced at his partner.
"Hey, Rommel. How come they gave me a new suit, but not a new hat?"
Rommel didn't take his eyes off the map.
"The oath," he said, expression begrudging. "When you became an Initiate, you swore on that hat. We're taught to maintain them until promotion. You can't just replace it if it gets ruined, and there's a punishment for misplacing it."
"Oh?" Rainer raised a curious brow.
"What's the punishment?"
Rommel yawned. "Something involving losing a third of your teeth, each time they have to replace them."
"Ah." Rainer looked away, muttering, "That's not good."
Rommel scoffed. "What? Can't attract the ladies without your teeth?"
"Can't eat meat without much teeth!" Rainer exclaimed.
Rommel folded the map with a noncommittal shrug.
"Fair enough."
They soon arrived at a narrower section of the street, where residential buildings began to outnumber stores. Rommel glanced at a building to the side, an imperceptible sigh of relief escaping him.
"We're here."
He climbed a few stairs to a wooden door and knocked. Rainer stood back, waiting comfortably with his hands in his coat.
Just then, he felt intense gazes scan across his form, and he froze.
Frowning, he tilted his head slightly.
A man in a dark coat sat on a nearby bench, reading a newspaper. Turning further, Rainer noticed another man coolly resting against a wall within a dark alleyway. The man locked eyes with him and tipped his hat a second later.
Realizing they were GBGs, Rainer offered a faint smile and returned the gesture.
*Click!*
The door opened and Rommel walked in. He stopped and glanced back.
"Rainer!"
"I'm comin', I'm comin'. Sheesh!"
He entered the apartment and shut the door. Turning, he saw Rommel approach two people. A young man with a strong air of competence sat wide and comfortably, as if he owned the place. And—
Rainer paused, taking in the young woman. Draped in a black fur coat, she sat demurely yet owned her space like a queen.
Rainer walked forward to stand beside Rommel. She looked up at him, and as soon as their eyes met, Rainer smiled.
Aegates merely blinked, observing.
Man, seated on the couch beside her, watched this interaction and gestured to the couches before them with a near-lethargic wave.
"We rearranged the furniture for you. Sit. Let's be done with this."
Rainer and Rommel muttered their thanks and sat.
Seeing they were attentive, Man began.
"I'm Mr. Man, a Soldier in charge of acquisitions." Then he gestured at Aegates. "I'm sure you both know Aegates. Everyone knows her!"
Aegates glanced at Man, and he winced, realizing how that may have sounded.
"Well, in a good way."
Aegates squinted, brows furrowing.
"Popular! I meant popular for her skills with people in...bed!"
He dug his grave deeper and ran a hand across his face in defeat.
Resigned, Aegates turned back to them.
"I believe Mr. Man meant to say I am known for my skills as a forensic expert and... shadow operative."
Man cleared his throat. "Yes. That."
He offered Aegates a subdued mutter of apology before continuing.
"With introductions made, we can speak of the purpose of this meeting. As you know, the Beach Boys have crossed a major line. We have officially declared war."
He paused to let that sink in, his eyes searching theirs.
"You two were part of our best assault group. If we wanted something—destructive done, Mr. Breaker's men were called up. We wanted to teach an ambitious gang a lesson, you guys were called up. All with Mr. Breaker at the helm... Bless his soul."
He let out a soft sigh, then raised his gaze.
"Well, now he's gone, and what's left of his legacy are two low-level Initiates."
Rainer and Rommel shifted slightly in their seats, feeling the weight of his words.
Seeing he had their full attention, Man leaned back and dropped the bomb.
"The organization has decided to give you both the honor of dealing the first blow—given your loss."
Rainer raised a questioning brow.
Rommel squinted suspiciously, then inquired.
"What's the plan?"
Man glanced at Aegates.
She leaned forward slightly and explained.
"The docks are the Beach Boys' HQ. If there's any place you can inflict maximum damage and restore our reputation, it's there."
Rainer leaned back, tilting his head slightly with an amused smile.
"I'm guessing we'll receive some major aid from the organization? Or are we to walk in there dick in hand?"
Rommel's eyes twitched, but Aegates' gaze was level.
"You will have your standard handguns."
Rainer's eyes widened faintly with surprise, and Rommel scoffed.
"Handguns?!" He exclaimed, glancing at Rainer as if confirming he heard right.
"How much damage can we do with that!?"
Aegates shot a hard gaze his way.
"I was not finished."
At that, he quickly shut his mouth.
After a moment of silent scolding, she went on.
"The attack at the cafe set the police on edge, since it was close to the core of the business district, where affluent members of Grayhaven tend to be found. We can't have you carrying heavy weaponry that could be found in a stop-and-search. Rather, a stash of weapons will be hidden at the location ahead of your arrival."
Rommel let out a visible sigh of relief.
Rainer glanced at him before turning to Aegates.
"Weapons are fine and all. But we know nothing about the docks. You don't expect us to walk in blind, do you?"
"Leave that to me. My Initiates are already gathering the required intelligence," she assured, her green eyes intent.
Rainer blinked, staring. And Rommel pinched the bridge of his nose.
"So when do we leave?"
"Tomorrow," Aegates replied without hesitation, her focus still on Rainer.
"A quick retaliation is required. By tomorrow, I will have all the intel you need."
Rainer's smile turned impressed. "How efficient."
"Not nearly enough," came her modest reply as her eyes drilled into his.
"..." Rainer's head tilted slightly, his expression sharpening into a questioning smile. For a moment, they stared at each other, a silent, charged current passing between them—an unspoken challenge, an assessment, a strange understanding?
"..."
"..."
Man and Rommel glanced between them, completely perplexed by the silent exchange.
Rainer cleared his throat and sat straighter, leaning forward to lock his fingers together. His gaze on Aegates was thoughtful, as if weighing a new possibility.
"You know... I haven't really thanked you for saving me back then."
Aegates's head tilted a fraction, her eyes squinting with open curiosity.
"The guys at the safehouse mentioned it while trying to bully me... Thank you," he said, his tone sincere.
Aegates merely took a soft breath. "Any member of the GBGs would have done the same."
Rainer's smile returned. "That's why we're... family. You know, like you said when I woke up."
Aegates's eyes turned a shade colder.
"But... are you really?" she asked, her voice quiet but clear. "Family?"
Man shot her a glance as if she'd uttered a profound taboo.
It was only then, Rainer confirmed his suspicion.
His eyes trailed down to her suitcase—then back to her cold, scrutinizing gaze. And a wry smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back into the couch.
Forensic expert, eh?