2Flame Alchemist: Inquisitor of Elysium
by Meneil & Nym P. Seudo
1
Sub-Adviser Roy Mustang's personal car forged a stuttering path through the press of public transit shuttles. Lighting fixtures crisscrossed the streets and vehicles, splashing a white glow against the immaculate surfaces. Although it was well past midnight, Roy had no need for headlights.
"You're supposed to let the bots do the heavy lifting. That was reckless, John. Stupid." Roy shot a sidelong glance toward the passenger seat. "What was your big idea back there?"
John Maverick, Roy's most decorated Street-Patroller slumped in the leather chair and pressed his bloody, twisted arm to his side. Every slight bump in the road shot a snarl of pain through his rugged features. "You get more information from them on the streets than in the ministry. If you had given me a minute before sending in the bots, then I would have had him singing his life story."
Roy glowered as a transit shuttle ground to a noiseless halt before him. An image of a ballerina composed of sheet metal decorated the shuttle's rear window, promoting one of the many art festivals that occurred weekly.
"I know you trust your gut, John. I do too most of the time, but you should have backed off the moment you noticed." Roy swerved around the shuttle and took a hard right. "That perp was swimming in mutagens. What could you have possibly learned from him? Aside from what it feels like to have your ribs broken."
John smirked in his wide-mouthed, cynical sort of way, the pain hiding behind his radiant teeth. "Could have learned where he came from. People like to talk when they have the upper hand."
Roy let out a graveled sigh as another bulge of traffic brought him to a halt. He was beginning to suspect that the bots would have had an easier time escorting John to the hospital. He glanced over once more, letting his vision fall on John's arm. "It's obvious he came from the Falls. You don't get mutagens anywhere else, especially ones so powerful."
"That's not a hard fact, Sub-Adviser. And you know that."
"Roy is fine. We're not a military."
"Right. Roy."
The color was draining from John's face. Roy ground his teeth as a long, motionless minute stretched by. "Forget this!" He pulled onto the sidewalk and blared his horn at the mass of pedestrians.
Progress to the hospital was much swifter from then on. Fortunately, foot traffic was light and not hard of hearing.
Roy brought the car to a hissing stop outside the south side of Themis Tower. A glowing, red sign with the phrase Kathari General Hospital radiated into the night. "We'll have you patched up in a moment, patroller. You'll still be fine for that early shift tomorrow morning, right? We're short-staffed these days."
John didn't chuckle at the barb, which worried Roy more than his creeping, ashen complexion.
The hospital's lobby was desolate save for a single receptionist. She startled like a jackrabbit once Roy hauled John through the doors, bellowing orders.
"Nurse! Take this man to the ER immediately! Priority one!"
As though they had all been lying in wait for this moment, hospital staff poured into the room, accompanied by stout diagnostic bots and equipment. A pair of nurses eased John onto a stretcher and wheeled him away while an accompanying doctor tapped notes onto a tablet.
The doctor darted ahead a few steps, flashing her ID to a scanner, double doors swinging open without hindering the procession. She stopped, noticing Roy trailing after them. "Sir, authorized personnel only past this point. You can wait in the lobby if you'd like."
"That man is an important subordinate of mine! I must—" Roy flinched as the security door slammed in his face. Through its window, the stretcher slowly diminished down the hall. Roy thought he caught sight of a quivering thumbs-up before John was wheeled around a corner and out of sight.
"—oversee his… recovery…" Roy closed his hanging mouth. He raised a hand to rub at his jaw. It seemed security rank didn't mean much in a hospital.
Cowed, Roy shuffled over to the waiting room and settled into an anti-microbial, plastic chair. It was as uncomfortable as sitting in a bait bucket, but that fact was the farthest thing from Roy's mind.
"What a mess…" he muttered, chin resting on laced fingers. "…an absolute disaster."
It had all seemed routine just a few hours ago. An anonymous tip from a concerned citizen had informed Roy's security department that some suspicious individuals were loitering around the south side of Ilios. Yet no automated alarms had been triggered. The security network had determined all the citizens in that region were there lawfully, though that didn't mean much these days. Fake ID cards were so easy to come by that the system was rapidly approaching obsolescence. Roy had mobilized with John Maverick and Yomans Beretta—two of his finest—for the purposes of reconnaissance. He had left the security bots standing by at the dispatch center, ready to mobilize if necessary. It was considered bad for public stability when combat bots swarmed the streets at every suspicious gust of the wind, so Roy had intended to employ a subtler approach…
Though now, as he sat in this too-clean room with its blazing overhead lights, waiting to learn if his subordinate needed a prosthetic limb, Roy was beginning to understand the need for force.
He hunched over and dug his fingernails into the backs of his hands. Damn that perp. How had he infiltrated the city with hazardous mutagens? And why had they been so potent? Stun rounds hadn't even phased him. The image of John's arm being shattered like a glass tube looped through Roy's mind.
There would be hell to pay. However many sleepless nights it entailed, Roy would track this perp down.
It took him a moment to register that a woman was standing beside him. And even longer to recognize that she was talking to him. He shook the gloom from his thoughts and straightened.
The woman was one of the nurses, tall and shapely, with streaming, raven hair and violet eyes. She must have inferred something from Roy's blank look and repeated herself. "You're Sub-Adviser Roy Mustang, are you not?"
"That's right."
She glanced at her tablet. "Your co-worker is going to be just fine. He suffered some compound fractures and blood loss, but nothing beyond our means. However, he'll need to stay in the hospital a little longer."
Roy released a silent breath. "That's good—Excellent, actually. Thank you, nurse…" He scanned her snug uniform yet found no nametag.
"Lust."
There was a name. Probably not given, but Themis was a colorful city with colorful people. Something about this stirred a vague remembrance in Roy, but he brushed it aside.
He dropped a hand to his Sub-Adviser's jacket and drew out a silver pocket watch. He'd had it commissioned at a specialty antiques shop some time ago. His subordinates called it archaic and useless, but even so, it never left his person. Having it just felt… right. He could never articulate why.
1:51 A.M.
He snapped the silver lid shut and ran a finger over the engraving of a horned lion. "Please excuse my impertinence, nurse, but I have a favor to ask you. I understand it's rather late, but would it be possible for me to visit my subordinate now? It's very important that I speak with him. It's a matter of Themis's security." He locked eyes with her, donning his most disarming grin.
"Given that visiting hours are long overdue, that's rather impertinent, Sub-Adviser." The nurse pressed a finger to her cheek in feigned consideration. "But I have a hard time saying no to men with such determined looks. Stay close and I'll escort you there."
She set off across the lobby, heels clicking. With a swipe of her ID card, the security gate swung open and she ushered Roy down the hushed halls.
"I'll need to walk you back when you're finished," Lust said. She leaned against the wall beside John's recovery room, crossing her arms at the stomach. "Don't keep a girl waiting too long."
"I'll only be a moment," Roy said as he stepped inside.
The room was small by hospital standards, with no windows and a single bed bearing a plaque at the foot labeled Maverick, J. Behind a partially drawn curtain lay John, eyes closed, breathing normal. A retractive tensile-carbon cast restrained his right arm from shoulder to wrist. Roy nodded his approval and drew a chair up beside the bed. He slapped John's leg through the covers. "Eyes open, patroller. You're still on the clock." Roy smirked as John fluttered to irked consciousness.
"How many limbs do I need to break to get a minute of R and R?" John glanced at the digital clock embedded into the far wall.
"No rest for us weary few, I'm afraid."
"So... what's the word, Sub—uh, Roy? Did the bots hunt him down?"
Roy checked his wrist-tablet one last time for patrol updates but found nothing. He shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. Listen, Maverick, this is why I'm denying you your beauty rest. We need information as soon as possible. If we don't move quickly then the trail will grow cold. Can you think of anything—anything—that we could follow up on? The way this perp looked, his clothes, the color of the mutagens he was packing. Something that could shift us in the right direction. You got the only good look at him before he bolted."
"Well..." John delicately repositioned his injured arm with the other. "I'll tell you one thing I noticed. It doesn't fit your Falls theory. The perp's clothes were real high-quality. Actual silk, not the synthetics you see everywhere. He'd torn through them a little because of the mutagens, but I could tell that they were top dollar, the sort of thing you'd see on a merchant mogul, not a druggie."
"Anything else?"
John shook his head.
Roy tapped a few notes into his wrist-tablet. "Alright, that's enough to work with. I'll do some investigating." He rose, checked his watch again, and did some mental calculations. "Sleep easy, John. I'll have a security detail assigned to you in the next six hours, and a neural scanner so we can get a mental image of this guy."
John bristled. "It's not a full-body cast. You don't need to baby me like this."
"If that perp gets nervous about you seeing his face, then he might come back to tie up loose ends. That isn't something I think your fiancé would appreciate."
John colored briefly but settled into silence.
"I'll keep you informed," Roy said, before turning abruptly on his heels and marching off.
He stopped the moment he crossed the threshold, noting that the nurse had been lingering by the door in perfect earshot. Roy frowned at the oversight, but let it slide. A wave of fatigue hit him full in the face. It was past 2 A.M. but he had no time for sleep. If he didn't pursue this lead now, then the perp might go underground.
Roy stifled a teary yawn and eyed the nurse's casual posture. "Thanks for waiting, but allow me one more act of impertinence. Do you have any coffee?"
Lust stiffened. "You're… asking an on-duty nurse for coffee? More importantly, you're not planning on working through the rest of the night, are you? If you aren't careful, you'll end up in the hospital, yourself." She lifted a palm as a sort of shrug. "Not that I'm complaining if that means you'll be spending more time with me."
The odd mix of concern and coquettishness in the nurse's tone caused a rise in Roy's brow. Normally he was the flirt. "It won't be my first all-nighter as Sub-Adviser, and it won't be my last. I suppose I could make some sweeping declaration about justice never sleeping, but this is more a matter of revenge than righteousness. Though, if I collapse in the streets from fatigue, I'll make sure to request you specifically."
Lust sighed, high and petite. "It's not exactly on the way, but there's some coffee in the break room."
In hindsight, the request may have seemed a bit absurd, but Roy had needed a pretext, and coffee was the best he could concoct. This was a prime opportunity to exchange words with the nurse. Something uncannily familiar crawled up and down Roy's spine whenever he looked at her. He knew her from somewhere… All he needed was for something to jog his memory.
The investigation could wait, if for only a moment…
Roy accepted the mug of insulated synth-ceramic and glanced into the swirling, brown liquid. "Looks like my debt to Kathari just keeps growing." He downed it in four gulps and suppressed a scowl. He didn't care for the stuff. Despite all the years of drinking it, the similarities to crude oil never faded.
Lust sat across from Roy at the break room table. Though she took no part herself, she watched him drink with pointed interest. There was an intensity to her gaze that Roy found the slightest bit unnerving.
"You know, you're going to scare the good citizens of Themis if you wander about with those blood-stained clothes, Sub-Adviser," Lust gestured to a red mark on Roy's shoulder. "If you're looking for a good tailor, I could point you in the direction of one. Although I can't say they'd be open at this hour." She smiled knowingly.
There it was. The lure in the still pond.
Roy circled the hook.
"Great," he said with an exaggerated groan, swiping a napkin and dabbing at Maverick's blood. "You'd think with a position this high up the ladder I wouldn't be required to pay for my own dry cleaning." The stain was deep, John had been even more banged up than Roy first realized. He dropped the napkin and removed his jacket, revealing the stark white of his faux-cotton undershirt. "That's a generous offer, Nurse Lust. By chance, that tailor wouldn't happen to be the primary distributor of real silk in Themis, would they?" Roy paused. "And while we're on the topic, you wouldn't know anything about illegal chemical enhancements working their way into the city, would you?" His embellished tone suddenly hardened. "No. That would be ridiculous."
Lust laughed almost imperceptibly. "Sorry, Sub-Adviser, Kathari only deals with the legal side of drugs. Although, if that's a request, I'd be happy to look into it for you."
Roy waited for some sign that Lust was joking, a twinkle of levity in her eye, but she just continued.
"I can send you a list of all the silk providers in Themis if you'd be willing to give me your number," she took out her phone, a small sleek rectangle that doubled as her ID and wallet. "Unless of course, you think someone like me wouldn't be useful enough to help you."
Roy set the coffee mug aside with a clack. How was he to respond to this? He'd been hoping to rattle her, not the other way around. Just who exactly was this nurse? Half-memories danced at the fringe of Roy's mind like shadow puppets upon a projector. There was something more to be gained from this exchange.
Even though every protocol and procedure argued against it, Roy drew out his work phone. "Well…" He cleared his throat. "My security division has been short-staffed lately. Even with all the patrol bots in the world, they're no better than rolling scrap without some creative insight behind them." The screen flashed to life at the warmth of his touch. In a short burst of taps he was ready to deliver his contact information. "Turning down a helping hand during times like these would be a poor choice…" A thought forced itself into his head, summoning a mischievous smile. "But, just to confirm, nurse, this offer of aid is purely altruistic, yes? Your concern for the security of Themis City is the only reason you're asking for my number? Not for personal reasons?" He jabbed the enter key.
Lust hesitated. "N-Naturally. It's every citizen's duty to help when they can, I'm merely doing my part."
Roy kept his face impassive, hiding the roil beneath. Had 'personal reasons' struck a different sort of nerve? For the moment, he filed the thoughts away, like so many other cases yet to be solved.
"Your dedication to the city is admirable, Nurse Lust. I look forward to working with you."
Grantham's Tailor & Alterations occupied a busy corner of Ilios Central Plaza. It was part of a major fashion conglomerate that had holdings all over Themis. It was a suitable enough place to begin poking around. If the answers weren't here, Roy hoped to at least find some clue of the right direction.
Roy eyed the store's blazing, electric-blue sign from across the street. A faint mist in the air had wound itself up to a drizzle and threatened more. He wasn't sure if Themis's climate controls were malfunctioning or the forecast officials felt the city needed a rinse, but gravid gray clouds loomed just above the tallest skyscrapers.
Roy turned up the collar of his trench coat and made certain for the tenth time that his security uniform was fully concealed. He hadn't filed the paperwork yet for an on-site investigation of Grantham's, so subtlety would be key. If a security official of such a high rank were to be discovered here without clearance, then there would be consequences…
But he had always considered himself a gambling man.
He crossed the street amid a mass of damp, grumbling businessmen. Ninety-nine-point-nine percent forecast accuracy didn't mean much these days, so it seemed. He took a casual turn down the alley bordering the backside of the building, keeping his hands deep in his pockets. Fog trailed from his mouth as he sighed.
There was the nurse, exactly where she claimed she'd be.
What had possessed him to agree to this?
It was strange enough to cooperate with a non-sanctioned informant, but allowing that same informant to accompany him during reconnaissance was just insane. There were so many possibilities for this to go wrong. And yet, here they were.
"Sub-adviser," Lust said, then immediately bit her lip. "Or, should I not call you that here? I admit, espionage isn't exactly my area of expertise."
"Roy will do. Discretion here would be appreciated."
Lust nodded. "Don't worry, I'll make sure not to get in your way."
Roy donned a pair of white forensic gloves. "Oh, really? How polite. Here I assumed you planned to batter down the doors and start threatening suspects at scalpel-point."
Grantham's was an enormous establishment, complete with fifteen stories, an office complex, and an attached warehouse. At the back of the building, beside the lot of transport trucks, Roy was rather surprised to find no security. A wide, handle-less door sat beside a corroded dumpster, and a small sign reading authorized personnel only protruded out of the wall above it.
"But assuming you forgot your battering ram at home, I believe I have a quieter alternative." Roy drew out his work phone yet again; responsible for calls, texts, scheduling, navigation, data acquisition, and… hacking. Two of Roy's tech officers, Abel Peace and Sato Raiseman had invested a great deal of time and energy into converting the thing into a skeleton key of sorts, capable of opening any door or accessing any node on Themis's general security grid.
It stretched the bounds of legality, but the minutia of the law meant nothing when stacked against its spirit.
With a few taps, flashes, and beeps, the titanium door slid open, ghostly in its silence. Beyond loomed the darkened storage rooms of the warehouse.
"Normally I tend toward chivalry, but maybe I should go first," Roy whispered.
Lust raised a dubious eyebrow. "Don't you need a permit for this sort of thing?"
"Bureaucracy is a dirty word, nurse. So is permit. I'm a busy man and waiting the minimum two weeks for a requisition to crawl through the system is far too long. If you'd like, then you can think of this as a rehearsal investigation. I may not be authorized to search these premises at the moment, but I would be if I had the leisure time to fill out the paperwork." He slipped inside. "Shall we?"
Despite her misgivings, Lust followed. Her heels clicked against the concrete, sending too-loud echoes rebounding off the stacked metal crates. She slipped her shoes off and padded down the aisles of storage shelves.
"I hope you don't get us arrested," Lust whispered. She trailed just a hand's brush from Roy's back, shoulders hunched, a hand pressed to her chest.
"If you'd rather not risk staining your ID card with a red mark, then you're welcome to don your heels and step outside. As I recall, it was your idea to accompany me, not mine."
This display of vulnerability seemed out of character. Had Roy given Lust too much credit? His subordinates often chided him for reading too far into things. Perhaps she was just a restive nurse looking for excitement. If so, she picked one hell of an opportunity. But it was her call, ultimately. The door was open, the security cameras deactivated…
Lust huffed and went silent, though she didn't turn around.
The warehouse was as still as a crypt, not the slightest sign of movement, be it flesh or metal. The patrol drones had already been deactivated by Roy's phone, but he had at least expected to find some wandering work-bots. Typically among Themis's larger companies, merchandise was shipped around the clock by a fully automated system. But not here. No lights, no maintenance bots, not even a simple cleaning disk sliding across the dusty floor. Roy considered unbuttoning his trench coat and activating his uniform-mounted flashlight but opted against it. Too conspicuous.
It took a minute of skulking, but Roy discovered the warehouse's master terminal in a small operator's room on the far side.
As soon as the door slid shut behind her, Lust piped up. "I didn't expect the law to do so much law-breaking. Is this your normal way of going about things?"
Roy shrugged. "If I were to obey every statute and stipulation, then I'd never get anything done. I'm not willing to risk a dangerous criminal escaping just so the pencil pushers up in Themis Tower can have their way." He fixed Lust with a hawkish look. "But more importantly… How can I avenge John if I'm not the one that catches the perp?"
"You're a surprisingly simple man."
With a chuckle, Roy shifted over to the master terminal. The dim, yellow glow of a standby light illuminated the underside of his face. "The data stores will likely contain shipping manifests. We can determine which outlets were stocked with real-silk suits. And from there we can get a list of buyers. It'll be long, but... that's a better lead than nothing. If we're lucky, then the perp that mangled John will be among them."
Roy pulled out his phone and tethered it to the terminal. A green download bar filled the screen and began the slow climb from zero percent. "Well… looks like this'll take a while."
The plush manager's chair squeaked across the tile as Roy spun it around and offered it to Lust. He snatched a smaller, plastic chair and adopted a reverse seat, crossing his arms over its backrest. "Tell me, nurse, why exactly were you so insistent about accompanying me?"
Lust sat and placed her shoes on the ground. Her eyes were almost luminous in the low light, shifting ever so slightly as she seemed to weigh her options. "This will sound odd, but... do we know each other? Have we met? Before yesterday, I mean."
Though some part of him wanted to agree, to confide in this mysterious woman, Roy restrained himself. "It's hard to say. Déjà vu is a common thing in this city. Are you a refugee? The medical researchers in Themis Tower claim it's a side effect of the atmosphere down on the surface. Even when it leaves your system, the memories it destroys don't come back. The administration's advice is not to worry about it."
Lust's features sharpened into a frown. She took a charged breath but stopped, her attention drifting to something outside the office window.
Roy's hand lowered to rest against the left side of his trench coat. Hidden beneath was a horrible mass of burn scars. Where he'd gotten such an injury, he couldn't recall. Everything before Themis was a haze. Yet upon careful inspection, he had discovered two long-healed puncture wounds buried in the burns.
They throbbed with remembered pain whenever he saw this woman.
A blaring alarm shattered Roy's thoughts. His phone was trembling atop the master terminal as if in an earthquake. He snatched it up and watched the text crawl across the screen.
Download halted
Countermeasures detected
Initiating termination command
…
Failed
Initiating security grid override
…
Failed
Unrecognized security protocols detected
Initiating security-bot emergency shutdown
…
Failed
Warning: Automated defense bot active
"What the hell?!" Roy roared.
A sound suddenly occurred to him. Something at the absolute fringe of his perception, starting as a deep hum and winding slowly toward a roar. Whirring gears and hissing pistons accompanied it, originating from the far side of the warehouse.
Roy ripped his phone from the tether and dashed out of the operator's office, whipping around to face the sound. Out of the gloom swelled two pinpricks of red, like coals heating in a furnace. A spotlight erupted out of the dark, blinding Roy. Rotating metal mechanisms and a booming, synthetic voice echoed off the walls.
"ID CHECK FAILED. TRESPASSER DETECTED. COMMENCING ELIMINATION."
He finally realized what the sound was: the spin of an assault-class anti-personnel minigun.
The blaze of the spotlight was so intense that Roy could feel the heat pressing against his face. He shielded his eyes in a futile attempt to see through it. Any moment now, the rain of hollow-points would reduce him to a red smear.
Yet, instead of bullets, there came a sudden, lancing shadow, not aimed at him, but the security bot. There was a screech of tearing metal and snapping wires. A bone-rattling slam of metal on metal brought an end to the spinning minigun.
Roy glared into the light, trying desperately to track the path of the lance. Where had it come from? Had a medieval spear just saved his life? What was going on?
A soft hand grasped him firmly by the wrist and dragged him into the dark. "Come on!" Lust shouted, darting down a narrow corridor of storage boxes. The sound of automatons grinding to life came from every corner of the room. Roy thought he detected the faint swish of security doors opening to reveal hidden compartments.
His mind raced with adrenaline. What was this? A silk supplier with military-grade combat bots—none of which were registered to the city-wide security grid? They hadn't even responded to the administrative override codes! No system in Themis had the legal right to do that!
Roy gritted his teeth. "Why are there murder-bots in a suit store?!" he roared, as they reached the end of the box-corridor and rounded a corner. Before them, spaced in a perfect row, was a quartet of security bots. They all wielded the same, spinning miniguns, and trundled toward them on quadripod legs.
They didn't offer a single word of warning.
They simply opened fire.
It was deafening, like a swarm of insects being forced through a woodchipper. Roy braced his feet and wrenched Lust by the arm, pulling her out of the line of fire. White-hot tracer rounds illuminated the corridor and perforated the far wall. In a second, it was reduced to a mass of twisted steel.
Roy whipped about, eyes narrow and hardened with intent. There was a window! About twenty feet off the ground. A nearby stack of crates served as a crude staircase. "This way!" Roy shouted, his voice just barely audible over the din of bullets.
With wild lunges, Roy ascended the side of the boxes and perched like a gargoyle. A fleeting memory came to him, of climbing the walls of a hedge maze as a child. Yet where had that been? He pushed it aside and offered a hand to Lust below. "We'll make it out of here! Just be quick!"
It took little effort to haul Lust atop the boxes. As soon as her bare feet planted upon the cold metal, Roy spun around and drew his multi-gun out of the folds of his trench coat. He aimed at the window and flipped the thumb switch from 'disable' to 'eliminate'. Angry, red bolts of superheated metal flashed from the muzzle of Roy's gun and exploded through the reinforced glass. Razor shards scattered through the air, glint-less in the overcast day.
"You can jump, right? You'll have to trust me!" Roy took three bounding strides across the narrow span of boxes and leapt like a circus performer over the expanse. The security bots' targeting program tracked his progress through the air and began to rev their miniguns. He felt a knifing agony in his side just before clearing the frame of the window and plummeting into the alley below.
Though he had expected the landing to come with the snap of breaking bones, there was none of that, just a great, tattered sigh. Roy floundered, reaching out a hand to grasp for something—anything. He found to his surprise, the soft, pliable texture of fabric. He was in a dumpster filled with scrap cloth. Stenciled in white on the side of it was Themis Reclamation and Recycling Division. It seemed he owed a letter of thanks to the chief of the conservation department.
There was another surge of gunfire, and he looked up to witness Lust hurtling out the window and into the open air. She landed almost-gracefully in the dumpster beside him, narrowly avoiding elbowing him in the head.
Roy scrambled over the side and into the alley, crouching behind the dumpster for cover. Glass shards crunched beneath his heavy boots, but in the heat of the moment he ignored them. With a furtive gesture, he advised Lust to do the same. It was doubtful that the security bots would exit the warehouse or endanger bystanders by firing out of it, but Roy wasn't certain of anything anymore.
Once his pounding heart had slowed, Roy took stock. He ran a hand over the side of his trench coat and brought it back expecting blood, yet there was none. He was sure he'd taken a bullet. Yet again, he had his tech subordinates to thank for the anti-ballistic synth-fiber mesh woven into his uniform.
"Well that didn't go according to plan," Lust said as she exited the dumpster with what dignity she could.
Roy eyed her for injuries, but it appeared she'd been just as lucky as he. "You're quite the acrobat under pressure, Nurse Lust. You might have saved my skin back there."
Lust waved a dismissive hand, ignoring the compliment. "In all that commotion, it looks as if I've misplaced my shoes. I'll be holding you accountable for that."
"Fair enough, given what I've put you through."
Despite the tempest of gunfire that had left Roy's ears ringing, the alley was disturbingly quiet. On the distant street pattered the foot-traffic usual for this district. The clouds above had darkened to something even more ominous, and scattered droplets of rain struck his upraised face.
Where were the alarms? There had been a break in, the warehouse windows should have been rattling from the sirens. Yet… there was nothing.
Roy rose to a standing position and glared at the building, wishing stupidly that he could see through its walls. But his gut told him the time had come to leave. Even without an audible alarm, his presence here was dangerous. He'd puzzle the details of their improbable escape later.
"I believe we should depart. Hopefully this was exciting enough for you." He tried for a facetious smile, though it only came across as sheepish. "Are you hurt at all? I can summon a car if you're unable to walk."
"A gentleman to the end, aren't you?" Lust observed. "But don't worry, it's just a few scrapes, and I can get home easily enough by myself."
"Are you sure?" Roy glanced down at her bare feet. He drew out his phone and dismissed the long list of warning messages from a few moments before. His finger hovered over the contact information for his most trusted underling—Lisa Jaywing. "I could have one here in a matter of minutes."
Yet Roy's words fell on deaf ears. Lust offered a parting gesture, dusted her clothes with the back of her hand, and strolled down the alley. Her tall form merged smoothly with the flow of foot traffic and vanished.
Roy crossed his arms over his chest, eliciting a hateful throb from his bruised ribs. "She certainly has her own way of going about things…" Roy murmured.
He glanced down at his phone again, preparing to call Lisa for extraction, when his eyes glimpsed something luridly red upon the ground. He crouched and realized it was a footprint, outlined in thick blood. Lust's footprint. She'd been injured, quite severely from the amount of blood. Roy followed the trail of her footprints, head low. She had clearly wounded not one, but both of her feet on the glass. He hissed through clenched teeth. It hadn't even occurred to him to warn her about it.
The sheer amount of blood was frightening. Had she cut every major artery in her feet? It was terrible, she would bleed out within minutes of walking. Roy tensed and prepared to sprint after her, but just as he braced his boots against the concrete, the trail ended.
Completely.
One previous step and the bloody dimensions of her foot was as clear as a painting, but now… Nothing. It was as if she had lifted off mid-step and levitated away. Roy rested one knee against the ground and ran a gloved finger over the empty spot. Was he losing his mind?
But a glance behind him denied the question. The trail just stopped.
Roy snarled and snatched up his phone, jabbing Lisa's number.
A rigid, feminine voice answered his call within the first ring. "Sir?"
"Jaywing, I need you to pick me up in a security car, two blocks east of Grantham's Tailor & Alterations. Move fast. I'm in the middle of an investigation and time's a factor. Also, get Peace and Raiseman into the office. Tell them it's overtime, I don't care. We've got work to do."
"Understood, but… may I ask why?"
"I'll brief you in the car. It's a long story."
"Fourteen minutes."
"Good—and thanks."
Roy hung up and fought against the rising anxiety in his chest. Things just got more and more absurd as the case stretched on.
He shook his head and returned to the task at hand. Out of his pocket he fished a small forensic kit. He took just enough time to bend down and swipe a sample of Lust's blood before rising and forging his way through the press of the crowd.
One step at a time.
He'd work this out.
Author's Note: Well, well, what are we doing here? Meneil and I created this some time ago, but I only just recently got around to cleaning it up enough for a public reveal. We couldn't tell you why we made this, but it was a fun process.
Tell me what you think of it. There are a few more chapters to come sometime in the near-ish future.
Thanks goes to AlphaAquilae for beta reading.
Take care, everyone :D
