Chronicles of the Exalted Sun Child

When Heron stepped up, the thugs’ grins widened. Yuriko huffed in annoyance, though she noted that at least half of them changed their focus towards Heron rather than keeping it on the rest of the group. There was this woman at the back who kept her automata eyes firmly placed at her and Gwendith, then darted towards Fluffington for a second, before it bounced right back.

She felt the woman’s gaze bear down on Yuriko, tracing down her robes, which were still loose, and to the woman’s mind, probably held a number of concealed weapons. She wasn’t all that wrong since underneath the robes, Yuriko had a knife. Well, just a knife, really, that was more utensil than a weapon. She hadn’t needed any actual steel on her since her Actualisation. It might be useful to bring her closer to Metal Phase of the Sword, but the knife was made out of good steel and would do just as well.

None of them were really armed by the standards of Dragon Fall City. But the real question was, would their weapons even scratch her skin?

_______

Elsie Silverlock wasn’t quite sure what she was seeing. Her SS had alerted her as soon as the camera detected movement in the hallways that weren’t fellow Fang Eyed or Sheep, but as the video feed appeared inside a box within her sight, courtesy of her ‘chronian eyes, she was just a little bit puzzled.

Down the hallway, an odd group marched. They were all clad in robes, that would have any observer mistake them for blooded cultists save for the fact that those robes weren’t streaked red with blood, and they weren’t black. But perhaps the greatest tell that they weren’t those insane weirdos was the fact that they were followed by a giant wolf. The beast was tailing the last humanoid and looked entirely too tame.

The robed people were walking with entirely too much confidence, Elsie decided. They were here on the Fang Eyed’s turf to start something, weren’t they?

“Oi, you kronks, we’ve got something,” she muttered to the rest of her square. They were an enforcer team, but they weren’t exactly on duty, but more hanging out near Steffen’s pad, bottles of beer, Olef’s Brew, was scattered across the hallway, and Elsie’s buzz was just getting good enough. Now they had to deal with possible invaders, so she was quite…ticked off.

Her ‘chronian eyes tracked the interlopers as they crossed the hallways and reached the intersection. This was a midway floor and a residential block. If they were headed towards the shops, they would continue going straight. If they wanted to go to the factories, they should have turned right. The lead robed kronk was holding up a ‘tab, so they were following a map. And they turned left. They were officially in Fang Eyed turf.

“Come on, then,” Elsie grumbled. “There’s trouble. Cultists. Maybe. Don’t look like it, but here.” She gestured with a pinky and sent a link to the others’s SS so they could see the video feed themselves.

“They do look like trouble,” Big Waldo said, his accent and polished words contrasted sharply with his bulky frame. Both of his arms, as well as his spine were ‘chronian gear, as was the dome of his head. He’d been considering changing out his legs and feet to ‘chronian too, but that would cross the threshold if he did, and then, it would only become a matter of time before he was taken to be Blessed.

The other girl in the square, Helen G, who was just a few inches shorter than Big Waldo, and should have been called Big H instead, grunted. The two huge kronks often bumped headboards, but just as often clashed. They were thankfully in the ‘on’ phase of their relationship, so they’d only been sucking each other’s tongues out today instead of throwing fists, but Helen was a feisty, hot-headed, and short-tempered woman, and she rose from her seat, a half-broken stool, and growled, “Let’s rumble then!”

“Kronk,” Steffen Snipe, muttered. The lanky boy was still nursing his first Olef’s, but already, his pale, freckled face was red to the roots of his multi-coloured hair. His hand wandered over to his side, but of course, he wasn’t carrying his Breaker Armament Scourgekiller Sniper Rifle with him. Instead, like all of them, he was packing a basic Peacemaker Tech’s Hold-on Shootout Pistol, that fired dinky pellets that were more likely to bruise as to penetrate, even if the target was flesh instead of metal. Well, it wouldn’t do to puncture walls where they lived, and should the Great Spirits forbid, they punch a hole in the outer wall, the thinness of the atmosphere high above the ground, and the deadly strength of the winds, might suck them out of safety. They weren’t at risk where they were since they were in the bowels of the mega building, but it always paid to be careful. Besides, right next to Steffen’s door was a tactical shotgun, though the reliability of the gun was questionable since it wasn’t from the Big 3 makers of guns and armour. The producer’s name escaped Elsie’s inebriated memory, but it didn’t matter!

Now was the time to get up, get out and see what those weirdos wanted. Her foot prodded Lil Blue, the last member of the square, and the rookie Fanger, too. He was a scrawny kid and had changed his skin to a light blue shade, hence, the name. Unlike the others, he wasn’t packing any iron, but if anything went down, he’d be ready to book it and call for help.

Come to think of it, they were outnumbered. There was even that big wolf thing, but the narrow corridor would hinder its size, and a good blast of the tactical shotgun should knock it down. Elsie wasn’t sure what the cultists were packing considering that those robes were so loose that they hid their body shapes. The cowls, while not pulled over their eyes, were enough to hide them from the camera view, so she had no real way to see their features. Not that the security cameras of the Green Zone, which was really borderline yellow, were all that good.

“They’re close,” Elsie said.

“Yeah, yeah.” Big W grumbled as he climbed up to his feet. He slammed his fists together aggressively. “Hope they want to fight. Could use the excitement.”

“Cool.” Helen laughed. “Let’s heat things up.”

The cold weather had just receded, but the walls of the mega building held and stored heat, which was why the corridors remained cold. The heat from the apartment radiated out into the hallway where they were hanging out, and at least heated air was essentially free.

They were all standing by the time the cultist wannabees rounded the corner. Through the camera facing towards them, Elsie, who was behind the two huge kronks and next to the not-as-big-but-still-taller-than-her kronk, could see Big W’s grin. The cultists paused at the sight of them, and for the first time, Elsie was able to see their faces.

“Whoa.” Her near-silent gasp was echoed by Lil Blue, who couldn’t help but stare at the woman in the forefront, whose face would put an enhanced REI-Girl to shame. “That can’t be natural,” she muttered, before she shook her dazzled head. It didn't matter. Much. The woman took one look at her square, sighed softly, then shook her head slightly. Her eyes were sharp, and her expression, imposing. What was she doing here in the bowels of the mega building? Inside a border zone?

Elsie’s auditory ‘chronian gear caught the woman’s words next. She didn’t quite understand what the woman said, but then again, Dawnspeak, though the lingua franca of the world, was often bastardised and adjusted depending on ethnicity. Her thought accelerators and enhancers quickly deciphered the words, found a few commonalities, and soon figured out the gist of what she said. Though it became crystal clear when one of the other robed figures walked ahead of the woman.

“...take out the trash, please.”

A spike of fury coursed through Elsie’s veins, but was doused in freezing cold water a moment later. Looking like that, even if they practically dressed in rags, as well as her imperious manner, such an arrogant tone could only be expected. The others didn’t realise what the woman said, however…or was it a girl? Her facial features looked timeless, and if not for the coldness and confidence behind those eyes, Elsie would have pegged the woman as younger than Lil Blue.

The one who strode forward pushed back his cowl and revealed a pretty boy with delicious-looking skin, pale blue eyes, and midnight-black hair. He stood in front, several steps ahead of the rest of the group. Elsie’s gaze sped through identifying and profiling the rest. Four women, including the first one, and one other man, who looked decidedly inhuman. How did his hair look like it was on fire? Or was his hair, flame? Was he an Elemental? If he was, then the woman wasn’t arrogant, she was confident.

Elsie’s fingers brushed her Fang knife. The blade was made from an alloy of Ossifrum and steel. It should be able to hurt an Elemental even without touching its core.

Big W took a big step forward while throwing his hands sideways. “I’ll take you on.”

The bronze-skinned man’s lip twitched. “Show me?” he said in accented Dawnspeak, which he extended his arm and beckoned mockingly with his fingers, an act that would have succeeded if Big Waldo was nothing but a brain dry kronk. Nope, Big W might be a brute, but he was an intellectual brute. Still, he didn’t rear back or hesitate. For all his noted polish, he still liked to brawl.

The tile underneath his feet cracked as he pushed himself to his maximum, unenhanced speed. His arm was raised, poised to unleash a haymaker, but that wasn’t the punch he let loose. His left foot drilled into the tile, and his waist twisted expertly as he punched straight into the caramel-skinned man’s face. Wait! Don’t ruin the pretty boy’s looks!

Thud! Squeee!

What?

The pretty boy caught Big W’s punch with his left palm, but the force of it pushed him back. He had not been in a braced stance but was completely upright. His boots scuffed the tile, but he’d only been moved by three inches or so. The camera caught Big W’s astonished look. The pretty boy, though the largest amongst the bunch, still looked like a scrawny kid compared to the bruiser.

“Not bad,” Pretty Boy said.

“You’ve seen nothing yet.” Big W pulled back then unleashed a series of jabs with his left. Pretty boy caught it with his palm, the same one he used to catch the right straight, without trying to catch Big W’s fist. The disparity between their sizes, as well as the size of their hands, was blatantly obvious whenever it happened, and the jabs didn’t possess enough force to knock the pretty boy back. Big W’s fist was as big as the other’s open hand.

“Not bad!” Big W yelled.

Elsie only kept half of her attention on the fight, and the rest of it was focused on the imperious woman. That woman’s eyes were focused on the pretty boy, in a decidedly possessive glint. Ah, so it was that.

Of the others, they looked bored. There was another blonde woman other than Snooty Girl, though her looks were several levels below that one. Drill Hair was looking at her Autotab, then down the corridor. She glanced at the door numbers, pursed her lips, glanced at Snooty Girl, then frowned. Snooty Girl didn’t glance back but just shrugged. So they had a way to communicate without talking out loud.

They didn’t look like they had any kind of ‘chronian gear. In fact, they looked like Body Purists. Pretty Boy’s hands were completely flesh, but he was blocking every single one of Big W’s punches without even a wince.

By Autochron, what had just walked into their lives?