Prath stared at the maids and sighed at their smiles. The maid with the shorter haircut chained up the door and locked it with a dozen padlocks.
"That should stop anyone from rushing into the villa while we take care of business," the short haired girl stretched her arms.
"I'm so exhausted," Prath sat down and coughed up blood once again. His handkerchief was fully soaked.
"I bet you are. Thank you for doing this for our lord Boogie," the maid with the longer hair hugged Prath from behind and stroked his hair in a motherly fashion. The old man sighed and unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt. With a theatrical wave of his arms, he tossed the handkerchief onto the floor beside himself and breathed out. The cloth moved on its own as the blood started to move on its own. The splatter spread out into about a dozen different directions as the threads of blood connected to the nearby shadows that had elongated and widened unnaturally. Lanky and hideous men and women swirled out of the darkness. The spiritual world trembled as the Verdant mist swirled into humanoid shapes, overlapping with the shadows. Tiny blue dots floated away from Prath's heart like embers in a campfire. His soul flame split and entered the bodies of those dozen shadows.
"You sure you two want to blow your cover," The man called Boogie, who looked like Prath, raised an eyebrow toward the maids as he passed small knives and oversized needles that were the length of forearms to the shadows. Where he got them was a mystery since he did not look equipped
"Aaradhya got suspicious the first moment we met. Somehow, he could see we were faking something," the maid with sleepy eyes looked away and shyly drew circles in Prath's hair. The other rolled her eyes and ripped the hem of her skirt to climb into a tree.
"No shit Sherlock. Even If he was only a fraction of Wilfred's Aaradhya, he would have been able to see through our shite performance," the second maid pulled a pistol from her inner thigh.
"You are so mean, are all of you first gen'ers like this," Boogie wiped his face with a shake of his head and looked up to the mouth of the open ceiling. His features changed in an almost dramatic way. Raven black hair rushed out of Prath's scalp as his skin darkened to a glowing bronze. His eyes and pupils vibrated until they settled on a gorgeous swirl of gray, amber, green, and blue. His ears lengthened and sharpened to a point. This was a completely different person.
"We are not all violent like her. We have just extended too far from V for too long. We miss him," the long haired maid stood up with tears in her eyes.
"Kill yourself then. Or let these guys do you in…", the short haired maid blew air out of her lungs in an exaggerated manner as she checked the chamber of her pistol. The man who looked like Prath seconds before, unknotted his tie and looped one end to the hilt of a needle like knife. He twirled it a few times in satisfaction. With a wave of his hand, the shades of men and women scattered and hid themselves in the unnatural shadows. Only the glint of razor sharp weaponry hinted at their locations.
"We are going to help where we can, but we have a mission to do already so we will not be putting ourselves in unnecessary danger," the short haired maid in the trees reminded Boogie of the goal that she shared with the long haired maid.
"If you two don't die here I'll help you by messing with some minds before I leave. I can't promise that my ability will work on a champion," Boogie spoke softly, no louder than a whisper as his voice resonated in the minds of the two maids and the shades. Moments later, more than a handful of people appeared on the lip of the ceiling. They wore masks and blacked out clothing as they quickly zipped down from different ropes. From their hips, they instantly pulled and pointed guns all around the room.
"Get them after they all come down," Boogie mouthed the words to his allies as his voice resonated in their minds. He, the shades, and the two maids waited around corners and inside bushes as the assassins repelled in complete silence. The gunmen fanned out and covered ground in seconds. Two found themselves unable to enter the Crystal Villa due to a padlocked door while another two found that the master bedroom was empty. The long haired maid, who stood within the walk in closet, held her breath as b;ack combat boots walked past her location. The closet door resembled the walls unless you knew it was there, it was difficult to spot.
In a silent flurry of blades and needles, the assassins fell like the petals of the trees around them. Boogie leapt out a bush just as the gunmen realized something was wrong and stabbed the throat of one person. With a flick of his wrist the needle blade that had a tie wrapped around one end went through the throat of another person that was almost a meter asway. Before the bodies could drop, he pulled the tie and grabbed the body, dragging the team of two into the bush before he moved locations. The still rappelling gunmen were more fortunate as they dropped into the room after their allies had been struck. Blood flowers bloomed as deafening but oddly soothing orchestral music played and drowned their communication. The second round of gunmen lost their composure as the music seemed to play directly in their minds, drowning their thoughts.
The oddities piled up but their training kicked in as each of the assassins got their bearings independent of one another. As such, one of the shades found a bullet between the eyes as an assassin caught it trying to get into position to stab. There was an overly gory spray of the blood as the shadow man popped into a scatter of emerald light for those who could see the spirit world. The blood spray instantly evaporated into curls of steam wherever it landed as if the person was an optical illusion of moisture and light. The initial bullet hailstorm quieted to an eerie rustling of trees and a gentle churning of water.
The assassins tried to calmly hold their positions within the miniature forest that they retreated into. The music in their minds turned silent as the sound of their own heartbeats echoed in their ears. The sound of exaggerated footsteps occasionally beat against the stone pathings or the rustling of branches. The blood mist from the fake bodies clung to the atmosphere and coated everything in a sticky film. In summary, it was near impossible to see further than a meter in any direction after a handful of the shades burst because they were shot. The assassins tried to speak to one another but there was something about the mist that made it impossible for their electronic devices to work, that or the words that they heard came out as unintelligible whispers and growling.
Each of the assassins came to the conclusion that something was interfering with their minds. How else could they explain the glowing lines that trailed along in every direction in the bloody mists. One assassin, crouched low behind a stone bench that was surrounded by foliage. He only saw one thread at first through the mist, then he saw two moving in unison as if they were a pair of eyes. After blinking he noticed dozens of threads that closed in like a ravenous wolf pack. In a matter of a few seconds, the sound of footsteps grew louder and more uncaring until the thread turned into a net that covered his face and blinded him. When his vision came back it was not enough time to react to the shades that closed in on his position and stabbed him in the throat. The assassin shot to no avail. Similarly, gunfire and the flashes of the muzzles slowed to halt as the assassins were taken out one at a time.
"Are these really Spectre class Ghosts," Boogie retrieved his bloody weaponry and rolled into a bush to avoid a spray of gunfire after he slit the throat of a balaclava wearing assassin. Seconds later the last scared gunman fell to the swarming of shadows that never fell below a dozen even if they were destroyed. The fog condensed into droplets above the pond and waterfall in a magical fashion. The shades who survived combed through the room and stripped the assassins of their gear. A few pulled shovels out of midair and buried the bodies with a whistle. Others walked around the room and repaired the damage done to the environment with a magical wave of their hands.
"Is that...", Boogie walked over to an assassin who was caught on the zipline and frowned. The man hung upside down and suffocated on his own blood, a needle impaled his throat and cut through his flesh in just the perfect way to not nick an artery but close his throat. Even still, the guy kept trying to open up one of the pouches on his utility belt.
"Hm. My luck is draining. More so when I stand next to this guy. Why though," Boogie stepped closer and nearly jumped back as he noticed that the man's hand was caught on his belt.
*Tick*, *Tick*, *tick tick tick.*
Without another moment of hesitation, he gently cut the assassin down and laid him on the floor. He pulled scissors out of midair and opened up the assassin's clothes.
"This is very spiteful," If the assassin hit the ground too hard or felt a sharp impact anywhere on the torso, the bomb that was on his chest would have gone off.
"This team must have been sent to be a decoy. Ah, now that I think about it these people should be Whisps rather than Spectre class Ghosts. V did say that they were the weakest of the organization. The real hunters are likely circling or are under the mountain, waiting for a chance," Boogie sighed and he pulled the dagger out of the man's throat.
"I have to defuse this bomb quickly before I can fix anything. Hopefully Vasuman listened to the real Prath," Boogie opened his breast pocket and selected the tools that he would need to defuse the bomb. The shades stood around him like sentinels, ready to jump on the bomb at a moment's notice. The maids closed in while he focused on the bomb. The short haired maid frowned as she held a bloody hole in her thigh. A bullet had grazed her while she was in the tree.
"This was sloppy work. The real Prath would have killed all of the intruders in half the time and with much less bloodshed. How do you think V is going to feel after experiencing several dozen deaths of his shadows huh," the short haired maid smacked the back of Boogie's head even though he was wrist deep in wiring for a bomb.
"He will manage. Go focus on your own business for right now. Take him with you. If he sees the spirit that I'm here for... well, figure out a way to capture it," Boogie tilted his head and coughed up some blood. The splatter landed in his shadow and bubbled like some sort of caustic brew. Half of his shadow tore apart and lifted from the ground like a monster made of ink. Another Boogie ripped out of the floor and stood there while waiting. Half of the real Boogie's soul flame separated from his body and went into the shade to create a living, breathing, body double. The fake combed through his hair and wiped his face. The shadow's features warped as his hair elongated into a wildly long, thick, and curly red and black mane.
"Oi man, I wus relaxin. I don wannæ do your work for ye", the man rolled his eyes then glanced over at the sleepy eyed maid with long hair.
"O shite. I dinnæ know my ghrá mo chroi wuz ear. Less be on our way," the new man immediately held his arms out and carried the long haired maid who jumped onto his body like an octopus around a pole. They went off toward the servant entrance that was directly connected to a panic room.
"Shit. You couldn't send anyone else," the short haired maid pouted but followed along after collecting her padlocks and chains from the main door. Boogie focused on defusing the bombs that were on some of the bodies. It was literally burning through his luck that all of the bombs hadn't gone off.
As the two maids and the red haired man snuck through the Glass Peak villa to find more assassins, a butler opened a storage closet in the upper kitchen and stumbled upon something that sent him into a spiral of fear and concern. The real Prath laid in a puddle of sweat and blood on the stone floor completely naked. The old man curled backward in a weirdly sexual hog tie with a giant welt on the back of his head. Truly, he looked like an oversize raisin. More frighteningly, a spiritual light swirled around his body, more accurately the visible Verdant mists swirled around a silver dust that someone left on the old man's stomach. While the maids and servants spread the news amongst themselves, the island's temporary military and in house police forces were occupied with new developments.
"... I am simply overjoyed to see that we can set aside our differences and make the preparations needed to help one another and keep our respective lord's and lady's safe," a man in a black and blue suit with swooped brown hair bowed to a group of decorated officers and decked out mercenaries.
"Vasuman was it? I never said my people would help. I said we would share anything worth reporting for the sake of our lord," one lady with goggles around her neck crossed her arms as she addressed the man in the black and blue suit.
"Aye. My men will also call in whatever they see, but expect a silent alarm or direct message from me or my assistants. We will move as we see fit to extract our lady from this place," another decorated officer said.
"We will fortify the extraction routes that your people already guard in the worst case scenario, but we won't be moving units from our current stations," unlike the true military personnel, the mercenary leader with the biggest reputation spoken on behalf of the different merc organizations that were in attendance. Vasuman smiled and lowered his head slightly to the group of security professionals that gathered at his request.
"Regardless. I thank you all for the help. Even the respect you have given my lord for gathering and listening to my speech is enough to be praised. I hope we all have an uneventful afternoon but if we don't, it's good to hear you will support us in any ways that you can," Vasuman bowed even deeper and walked away. With a deadpan expression he left the temporary HQ tent and started on his path back toward the Crystal peak. He sat on a motorcycle and shot off. Just as he turned on the path to go towards the main street, the wind roared out his name over his bike's hum. He slowed down and stopped in the middle of the road and looked around for whoever called his name. A few seconds later, he spotted a few characters rush out of the forest.
"Vasuman," a woman in mercenary equipment and half a shaved head huffed for breath at the side of the road behind the man. Half a dozen other people in nondescript blackout mercenary gear rushed out of the woods behind her. It seems that they cut through the forest to catch up to him.
"Yes," Vasuman, born and raised in the confines of the Golden Horn's estates had only ever been on speaking terms with people in the cult, those he was directed to converse with, and a handful of outsiders when he ran away in his youth. This impromptu talk completely caught him by surprise.
"Hi," the lady dropped her gun with wide eyes and a dropped jaw. Her hand flew up but got stuck mid wave as she panted for breath.
"Madam," Vasuman observed the other mercs but all of them panted through their balaclavas. From their posture, however, he could tell that they were completely at ease... almost as if they were not out of breath from chasing a motorcycle.
"Hi," the lady waved her hand but didn't pause this time, so it looked sort of natural.
"Hello to you as well, miss. If I recall, you called out to me by name. May I inquire as to where you learned of it," Vasuman felt something was wrong with this situation. Upon closer inspection, he noticed that there was an unordinary number of mercenaries in the area that had followed her, at least two dozen.
"Sorry. I just. It's... I missed you man. It's been almost twelve years now, right," the lady ran up to Vasuman and grabbed his hand with a smile.
"Uh. Ma'am. I feel very uncomfortable with how close you are to me," Vasuman tried to pull his hand away but couldn't. The mercenaries in the background collectively sighed. Some held the bridges of their noses, others looked at the sky or dirt. Two crouched down and played with dice and one sat on the pavement and used a knife to draw in the dirt on the side of the road.
"You didn't feel that way when you pushed me down and did this and that to me...", the woman looked at him with an embarrassed smile. His attention snapped onto the woman's lipid and darting eyes.
"Miss. I don't know what you are trying to imply but I can assure you, you must have confused me with some other miscreant who shares my name and visage. There is only one person I have ever laid with, and she is...", his face slowly warped with recognition.
"How are the kids? I know it wasn't right of me to just leave them with you like that, but I thought it was better than living with me in that dump...", the lady's face fell but she quickly perked up.
"Dead. You. What," Vasuman's body tingled with what felt like electricity. His head buzzed. An invisible pressure gripped his skin and threatened to break his heart. He didn't notice that the woman's other hand touched his chest.
"Did you name them Kanjan, and Anila like I wrote? I wanted them to have something of me before I left, speaking of. How are you," the woman chuckled. Vasuman's eyes shot open, and his entire body trembled. He got off the bike and used his free hand to touch the woman's face. In that exact same instant, the woman dropped a silver disc into Vasuman's jacket pocket.
"How? I looked for you everywhere. I saw your grave. You died. How are you here? Now," Vasuman leaned in to give the woman a hug but all of a sudden, something sharp and warm cut into his midsection and sent his vision into a spiral.
"What…", he fell onto the floor and looked down at the foot that pressed onto his chest and the knife that was right beside it in a daze. No matter how much he thought about it, it was impossible to form a thought beyond surprise.
"What? What," right before his eyes, the woman with a shaved head changed. Her hair grew into a full head of hair and changed from a light and almost blonde, brown shade, to a dyed color. Her features and skin pigmentation also changed. This was a completely different person in front of him now.
"Who are you," Vasuman stared at the horrifying change with a rising sense of panic and fear. His limbs would not move, it was as if he were paralyzed. He could barely speak as something set fire to his heart and internal organs. The Verdant mists ignited into a swirling inferno that aimed right where the woman's foot was on his chest. The silver disc was cracked and it attracted the world's spiritual energy.
"I'm a mysterious stranger sent here to fix all the hidden machinations of the God's. Enjoy the present I gave you. It's only a piece but it should be enough to wire up your spirit. Good luck, try not to die," this new lady simply vanished out of sight along with the rest of the mercs. The one who drew in the dirt looked up and groaned when he realized the cleanup was left up to him. This merc cracked his knuckles and neck then grew almost a dozen centimeters in height. The merc's clothes strained against the increased muscle but miraculously stayed intact. The merc picked up the motorcycle like it was a paperclip and placed it in some bushes on the side of the road.
"It's going to be really painful. Trust me. Stay awake for as long as you can and don't fight it. You can try but your path will be more difficult further ahead as far as I know right now...", the mercenary gently picked up Vasuman and placed him at the center of some bushes right next to the motorcycle.
"Also. I'm sorry I used that trick against you. Since I didn't want to shoot you, it was the only thing I could do to lower your guard. I'm still practicing but with how V imagined you... I know I would've gotten my ass kicked if I tried to strongarm you into submission," the merc smiled with his eyes and patted Vasuman's chest a few times. He crushed the silver disc even more until it was just a powder within his pocket.
"Oh yeah. I don't want to be the one to tell you this, but the mother of your children got her life together after meeting and spending time with you. Those few months were the best of her life. She only left you because she didn't want you to lose your place amongst your family. She did not die but you may not have noticed her since she shaved one side of her head and dyed her hair just like that woman who stabbed you...", the mercenary waved his arms around as he narrated. He paused at the sparkle of hope in Vasuman's eyes.
"Just find the lady who looks just like the one that she showed you earlier. The one who looks like this", the man took off his balaclava and showed the exact same woman from earlier. Vasuman fainted, and when he came back to, he was struck by a piercing pain and heat that burned him from the inside.