“So, if you're here to kill me, can you do me a favor and get it over with? I'm a busy woman.” The man in black laughed at my little joke. As if I wouldn't just respawn by lunchtime with some silly compulsion or absurd fear. “No, I'm not here for anything of the sort, Ms. Freebird.” The jovial tone in his voice did nothing to ease my nerves. Our discussion halted briefly as a trio of little children passed us on the pier. Their innocent little games giving me a moment's respite, their laughter cutting through the thick tension between me and the other. They were playing some sort of game, waving sticks around like wands. Probably something to do with casting spells, like some sort of Harry Potter thing. Pretty sure I heard some Fake Latin being shouted. The children ran out of earshot, and I felt the mood darken once more. I sighed through clenched teeth, my gaze returning to the sea. “So what do you want?” The man in black's grim smile widened. “We just want to make sure your loyalties still lie with us, is all.” “Of course,” I grunted. Shady organization, working behind the scenes to manipulate the fragile power structures that held the world together in an effort to fill their own coffers and raise their own standing? Knew all about them. Led a couple of them myself, in other games. Of course they want their stooges to be blindly loyal to their cause. Who else were you going to cannibalize when shit went south, and still expect them to return for more? “We understand that you were... how should I put it...” He looked down into the half-empty bag of mixed nuts he held, and gave it a quick shake. “...inexperienced, when you signed up for your first task.” The mission to defend the Bandit King from Zeus and his Pride of snot-nosed, bright-eyed heroes. “And while we don't have all the details of what happened that day, you must understand that a job is a job. Cashew?” With an unreadable look plastered on his face, the man in black tilted the paper bag in my direction. I refused it with a wave. Reaching in with a well-manicured finger and grabbing some for himself, he popped the snack into his mouth. “While we would normally punish those who fail their assigned tasks, we can understand why you chose not to act. And frankly, I can't blame you. Why put your life on the line when faced with power like theirs, right?” Theirs being the two women who prevented the rest of the Aristocracy stooges from attacking Zeus or finishing him off after we killed the Ant Queen. Of course I didn't fucking do anything against them--vets like that? They would've torn my weak noodle ass apart before I could've even flipped either one of them the bird. The man in black and I found a bench near the edge of the pier, and he motioned for me to sit. The breeze had picked up, tossing my hair every which way. I drew out a tie from my inventory and pulled my black locks into a loose ponytail, missing a few strands. Annoying, sure; but not enough to make me want to redo the damn thing. I glanced at the man in black briefly before turning to look at the stormy horizon once more. “You're still not telling me what you want from me.” He remained silent for a moment, dragging things out, savoring the small bit of torment twisting my stomach into knots. “I understand you got a job at DMN?” “Yes,” I replied. The man nodded. Whatever laid beyond the endless horizon--in that very moment, that's where I wanted to be. “Let me guess; you need something from them?” He munched on another handful of nuts. “Not exactly. But I do know that it's primarily a research institute. Diseases, mostly.” My patience was wearing thin. I was supposed to be at work today, continuing my studies into cordyceps mutations that were popping up across the interior farmlands of Dunnstads. ...Work-job in a video game, yeah, I know how stupid that sounds; but it's something I need to do. Beats the hell out of grinding trash mobs. I took a stab in the dark. “You need someone to fall deathly ill.” “Whether or not they survive, I'll leave to your discretion.” The man in black reached into his coat and produced a small, narrow envelop and handed it to me. “In three days, go to the address listed here. You will find the target practically gift-wrapped and ready for you to work your magic. Don't worry about any sort of interrogation; we will already have everything we need from him.” That dark, mysterious look returned to his eyes for a brief moment. “This is about sending a message.” And with that, it was gone. His smile returned, and he reached up with his free hand and gave me this patronizing little pat on the head. “And it's about making sure you still want to be one of us, yes?” If his hand lingered for even one blink longer, I would've snapped it off at the wrist and fed the fish with it.
