Tales of the Paths IV (Patreon)

Got to experiment with a first person chapter, trying to delve into a noir style

This got longer than I thought it would, but i'm very proud of how it came out, hope you guys like it!

The sounds of the night hearken to me like an old friend. I walk across the pavement, feeling more comfortable under a flickering street light than I do under the sun’s rays. The shadows are familiar, they know me as intimately as I know them. And they welcome you with open arms in a cool embrace.

But then the wind rushes, and I tighten my coat around me, making me miss the warmth from our daylight friend in the sky. And I’m reminded the night isn’t just a friend, she’s fickle, sometimes she’s in a mood. She can comfort you as much as she can test you.

I should have taken it as a sign that tonight, the night won’t be so gentle with me.

The shadows warn me there is danger afoot.

So, an average day’s work for me.

My name is Nocturne, and I’m on the case.

She contacted me through my usual channels; time and place were of my choosing. Standard safety procedures: make sure wherever we meet is on my terms, with all my exits covered. A private eye has an office, but a private parahuman detective? Too risky, too easy to find you.

The client has that same look so many people do when they meet me. Worried, afraid, desperate for help. There is regret in those brown eyes, history I’m not privy to yet. But I’ll know once I do my research; I always research my clients. So far I only know her name and her job; Juliette Roux, real estate agent. No criminal history. By all accounts, an average woman from the streets of Marseille.

“Her name is Marie.” She hands me a photo of a young woman. Young, early twenties. Fresh out of college look. “She disappeared a week ago. I-I tried the police, but they’re not making any progress!”

In this job, you need to distance yourself; it’s the only way you keep yourself sane. But a part of me, the part that endeavors not to fall to apathy, bleeds for her all the same.

I ask her the usual questions. Where was she last seen. Friends, family, contacts. Any little detail helps.

I get what I need, and tell her I’ll do my best.

“Please, find her!” She sobs, tears streaming down her face. “She’s all I have left!”

In this job, I know better than to make promises. Sometimes it’s not up to you. Sometimes you get to the truth, but the truth is an ugly, jagged thing that carves a deep wound, the type that never heals.

You don’t promise a victim’s relative it’ll all be okay. You set them up for an even greater grief if you fail.

But even after all this, I never learn.

“I’ll find her,” I promise her. “I will.”

Marie Benoît, age 22, attending software engineering college. She doesn’t have the same last name as her sister. Different mothers, Juliette said. Parents no longer in the picture. She’s taken care of her younger half-sister for years now. 

Honor student. The type of girl who’s got a future in Marseille. But no matter how pretty our city looks, she harbors a dark side. There are people here all too willing to take those promising futures away from people.

I keep a gloved hand on my fedora as the winds pick up again; not even the face mask hiding half of my face helps against the biting chill. I approach the girl’s flat, police tape still barring the door. I called ahead to get permission to check the place; I still have old friends in the force who accept a private eye’s help. They know I can find things other people miss.

There are signs of struggle. Broken lamp. Furniture tossed over. Drawers open and their contents thrown around the room. No ransom, no demands. They were looking for something when they kidnapped her.

She had something someone wanted.

I kneel in the center of the room and put a hand on the floor. My power reaches out, and my shadow extends. A pool of black forms around me, spreading over the room, falling through the tiniest gaps in the floor. My senses expand with it, ‘touching’ everything my shadow touches.

And then I feel it, a small empty space under the bed.

I recall my shadow and move the bed, opening a small compartment underneath the floorboards. There is a briefcase inside.

Jackpot.

I open the briefcase and narrow my eyes.

“A laptop?” Juliette muttered. “What does it have?”

“Don’t know; it’s password-locked. Heavy encryption too.” I explained as we stood by the roofs. “I’ve seen this kind of work before, tinker-made.”

“Tinker? T-That’s a parahuman type, isn’t it?” She shook her head, looking bewildered. “Why would my sister have tinker-tech?”

“That’s the question,” I replied. “Is your sister a parahuman? Does she have parahuman friends?”

“No!” she said fiercely. “She would have told me! I-I have no idea where she could have gotten this.”

“Hmph,” I grunt. “Gotta ask around, see if anyone she knows has any idea.”

“Okay.” She nodded, looking harried, but a bit hopeful now that I’m making progress. “So what did you do with the laptop?”

“Gave it to a friend to crack it open. I’ll go through the data once it’s done.”

She sighed, no doubt hoping there might be a clue to finding Marie hidden inside. “Please, tell me what you find.”

“Will do.”

I ask around. Colleagues, friends of the victim, acquaintances. See if I can fish out any details; have to be careful not to ask if she’s a parahuman. Might accidentally out her if she is; might make them a target if they know. I dance around the issue, ask if she was ever in an accident or was caught in a terrifying situation, and look for any potential Trigger moments.

I get the same answers: ‘She’s a nice girl’, ‘Not that I know of’, ‘She was very open; I think she would have told me’.

But then, I get told something different.

Former roommate of hers, she said, ‘I once heard her talk about how her mom was arguing with someone. They were screaming so much, she just… got so afraid because she didn’t understand what was happening. She told me she doesn’t remember much, but she thinks someone threatened her mom. It was horrible; she said she had never been so afraid before’

Sounds like a potential Trigger moment.

I look up info on her parents. Her and Juliette’s mother, Penelopé, died eight years ago with Juliette’s father in a car accident. Leads me to look up information on Penelopé’s former husband, and that’s where it gets interesting.

There is nothing.

No record, no marriage or divorce certificate.

Juliette never told me about any altercation between her father and Marie’s parents. Either she doesn’t know, or she kept quiet.

There are secrets there. Things Juliette never told me.

Hmph, need to dig deeper.

“My dad?” Juliette scoffs. “Yeah, him and mom were never really married. Was for the best.”

“Piece of work?”

“To put it lightly…” She huffs, helping herself to the whiskey I brought. Alcohol loosens lips. “He was not a good partner, not much of a good father either. They had… so many arguments when they were together.”

“Did it get violent?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen…”

“You think he could have harmed your sister?”

“No,” She sounded certain. “He’s been out of the picture for a long while.”

She gives me a name, Malone Dupont.

Dead. In prison. Or away. I’d ask, but my instincts tell me I won’t get a real answer.

I learned to listen to them a long time ago.

Juliette looks like a decent woman. But there is this feeling about her I can’t shake.

So, I pretend I have no more questions, and as I’m about to leave, she asks me about the computer again.

She seems too interested in it, like it holds the key to finding her sister.

Or maybe there’s something more there…

Marseille’s got a beauty to it, old and proud. She carries the weight of history in every brick. But the years have not been kind. There are cracks, and filth slips through. Gangs form territories and battle over lines on a map, thinking themselves modern kings instead of the thugs they are.

Money and drugs change hands faster than fashion trends. And weapons, much like a politician’s support, go to the highest bidder.

I go to the usual place I get my answers from, Thomas’s Anvil. Named so because the original owner had this special brew that hit you like an anvil. A neutral ground, where rogues and villains alike swore to respect.

Glances are sent my way like daggers when I enter, crooks and the occasional cape know I’m trouble. A reputation I didn’t care to correct. I set on the bar and look at Noah, the balding man in his fifties barely spares me a second look, focused on the beer mug he’s filling. The man waiting for it looks harried, like he just wants his drink so he can get away from me. “What brought your sorry hide here this time?”

“Marie Benoît. Young woman kidnapped.” I bring up without preamble, putting money on the table. “Potentially involved in cape business. Wanna know who might have taken her.”

He serves the other guy his drink, making him leave the bar in an instant. Noah leans forward and, taking the money and looking me straight in the eye as he whispers. “Don’t know any specifics, but word around town is the Majestics are pushing for a comeback. Getting supplied from out of town.”

The world was changing fast ever since the Glitch. Out of town could mean the larger criminal enterprises in Paris, or even greater Europe. Or it could even come beyond the sea. North Arfica’s ever-shifting political structure is seeing the advent of new warlords, the ‘paracausals’ who can wield powers unrelated to parahuman abilities.

“Why you think the Majestics are involved in this?” The gang had been on a downward slope for years now. Members captured, territory lost to other gangs. One of their core members, Maxima, seemingly cut ties with them and hadn’t been seen in almost a year.

“Count Forté’s people been harrasing folks lately. Word is they’re looking for a leak on their most recent venture.”

I slowly nodded. “I see,” And slipped another bill his way, keep him open to doing future business with me. “Thanks.”

I leave, my business here concluded. I start thinking about the information I have so far; The Majestics pushing for a deal with ‘out-of-town’ supplies. Could be anything from tinkertech to drugs. I thought back to Marie’s laptop, the tinker encryption, and a picture formed.

Marie had found their deal and slipped up. The Majestics caught wind of her snooping and went on the hunt. They got her, but not her laptop. All the info’s still there.

Count Forté needed her equipment. So most likely kept the girl alive.

If this is true, then I have the bargaining chip for the girl. But this is all conjecture, need more evidence. And it ain’t gonna fall on me from the sky.

I feel the hairs on my neck stand on end; a discharge of electricity pushes through the night in a condensed sphere of power, and I jump back. The sphere explodes with sparks and bolts where I was. My coat whips about as I crouch and look up, see a figure clad in dark blue bodysuit, lines of energy coursing over her. A helmet in the shape of sparks protects most of her head, while leaving her mouth open. I see teeth snarling at me, tinged blue as her mouth opens and glows with energy, creating a flanged effect that distorts her voice, making it unrecognizable beyond the feminine qualities to it.

Maxima.

Why was she here? What did she want?

She answers my questions swiftly; “The laptop! Give me the laptop!”

I briefly question why she suddenly back with the Majestics, but as a new sphere of electricity flies from her hands, I run with all the strength my legs can muster. Enhanced dexterity and endurance is part of my powerset, so it lets me clear the distance to an alley fast.

She anticipates this and fires another bolt, cutting me off. I grit my teeth and swipe my hand, conjuring darts of black from my shadow toward her, they bounce of an electromagnetic shield, splashing like waves on a rock.

She raises her hands and prepares another volley. Smaller spheres fire in quick succession. I crouch and call on my shadow.

I reach out, and tendrils extend, swiping in quick succession to swat away the volley, protecting me just in time.

“The. Laptop!” She screams again, voice getting even more distorted.

She knows I have it. How?

She raises her arms, and gathers her power in a much larger sphere of energy that starts illuminating the streets, like the moon was even closer to us.

Full power like that, she’d char me to the bone. Wasn’t strong enough to hurt her, not someone on Maxima’s level.

I wasn’t.

Not until that day, when I got more ‘perspective’.

I take out a revolver from my holster, load it with more than a bullet.

I load it with power.

With the essence of what drives me. My shadows slip into the chamber.

The barrel glows, dark purple energy crackles around it.

And I pull the trigger.

The bullet soars like a beam of dark light, it collides with Maxima’s barrier in a crackle of energy, she stops charging her attack, and the clash of forces causes a powerful detonation. I shield my eyes just as Maxima is sent flying. She falls to the ground with a painful thud, I’m amazed to see she can still pull herself from the ground, albeit with difficulty.

I ready my revolver again, slowly walking closer. “What do you want?!” I ask, keeping my voice firm. “You working for Forté again?! Does he have Marie Benoît?!”

She looks up at me, jaw clenched and baring her teeth with so much anger and hatred. Can’t tell if it’s aimed at me or not.

Energy crackles under her hands on the pavement, and a burst of light stuns me for a second. Enough time for her to get to the air and fly away. I keep my gun trained on her, even as she escapes. I grunt, holstering it after a moment. Ain’t no sense in prolonging the fight.

Maxima’s with the Majestics again, or she has her own agenda. They laptop is a clear piece on the board.

I take out my phone to reach my contacts, see if they managed to crack it. And I stare, disappointed at the flickering screen.

Hmph, seems Maxima’s power just fried the electronics near her.

Just my lucky…

I got back to my place, swapped the phone for one of my spares. Need to see about contacting the tinker underworld market for a phone that can withstand electric interference in the air. Budget might be a problem, though.

Questions race through my head as I walk the streets at night once more. Targets now are Majestic thugs; I question my way up the chain and crack a few bones until finally one is terrified enough to confirm my suspicions. Count Forté sent for Marie Benoît to be taken. No doubt in my mind now, the girl managed to intercept communications between the gang and their new business partners.

The latter’s identity remains a mystery. Not the problem right now, so I focus on what I know.

Marie Benoît, potential parahuman, in over her head.

Count Forté, leader of the Majestics, hatching a plan to regain power and standing.

Maxima, former Majestic cape, now back into the fold for some reason.

A laptop with evidence between Majestics and an unknown party.

Can’t find a connection between her and law enforcement, and my sources don’t point to any contact between the individual and the French Parahuman Force. I wonder for a moment what led to things getting to this point. She was acting alone. What drives a girl, still in college, to spy on a gang on her own?

I remember the cases I’ve taken over the years, all the motives victims and perpetrators alike had. A crusade for justice, a need to do the right thing, opportunity, anger, revenge. They’re all strong motivators. Why the Majestic? Either coincidence or purposeful, directed at them.

Everyone’s always looking for something. For answers. They find them in faith, those who go to church and pray away their burdens and their tragedies. They look on high, desperate for someone to calm their fears, to put the Glitch behind them.

Churches are more packed these days since that terrible event, when we all felt the universe collapsing around us…

Others look for purpose, looking to join something greater. Then there are those who want to do something meaningful, often by taking matters into their own hands.

I think back to that which motivates me, the reasons I do this job. Friends, loved ones. Those I promised to protect.

Those I failed to save…

Each case I take, each victim I avenge, every scum I put behind bars is one more step on the road to redemption. To make sure I never fail anyone ever again.

So what motivates Marie Benoît?

I think back on what her sister Juliette said. Their mother and Marie’s father. A car accident.

Hmph, accidents are common. They happen all the time. Seen capes who died to sheer dumb misfortune.

The randomness of it all, the purposeless meaning in existence when it can all snuff away in an instant… it can drive a man insane.

So, we force the universe to give us answers.

Marie Benoît could have been looking for answers, even after all this time.

One piece of the puzzle remains missing. One kept from me.

I need to talk to Juliette again.

We meet again in the rooftops. Eyes staring at the city, lost and empty. The night is loud, with sirens and the sound of traffic in the distance, yet the city owes her no answers.

She is more receptive to talking when I offer her a bottle of whisky and share a drink with her. She stares at me in shock when I lower my mask, only to show there’s only a shapeless mass of black underneath. Not even the light of a lit cigarette unveils the shadows over my face.

“Neat trick.” She mutters, nursing the drink in her hands. “How come you wear a mask then?”

“Just in case.” I shrug, exhaling the smoke.

Juliette sighs, “Look, I told you all I know. Everything you could need to-“

“Not everything.” I interrupt her. “Not about your father.”

Her hands clench over the glass, and I fear she’s going to break it.

She downs the shot after a moment, shoulders heaving as she restrains her anger.

“How could knowing about him possibly help you?”

“Won’t know until you tell me,” I reply. “Your mother, she argued with him once. Your sister heard it; he threatened her. Threatened Marie too.”

Her lips purse tightly.

“Could have Triggered then, developed powers. Powers that led her to take action against the gangs. Seems she angered the Majestics, got into their business.”

“How does this involve him?”

“What did your father do, Juliette?” I asked her, making it clear she needed to tell me. “Was he involved with the gangs? Was he a criminal?” I lowered my voice, just a bit. “Do you think he could have been involved with the car accident that killed your mother and Marie’s father?”

Silence.

A silence so oppressive, even the night dared not break it.

“He…” She hissed, the words full of spite and venom. “Would control every little thing he could. You couldn’t raise your voice; you had NO voice with him. Everyone and everything was only a little pawn for him to use. And if you rejected him… then he got angry.” She let go of the glass and gripped the edge of the railing instead. “And when get angry, he punished whoever was responsible for his bad mood.”

I say nothing; I listen, letting her get it all out.

“Mom was brave enough to run away. He let her go, for a while, thinking she’d come back eventually. Then she met Aaron, and then Marie came along. He didn’t care then; he was too… distracted with other things. But when his business began failing, he turned back to her, to the one thing he felt he could control over everything else.” I can feel the shudder in her voice. “And then mom refused him, for good. She would never go back to him.”

I lower my gaze, thinking. “Must have been hard for you. For your mother to-“

“You don’t fucking know!”

She shouts, and I fall silent.

She is breathing raggedly, the anger too much to contain inside. The grief too raw. A woman in her thirties, and she’s still a little girl angry and afraid.

“You don’t fucking know,” She repeats, hanging her head. “What it was like to grow up with him. Marie has no idea how lucky she was, and I’ll make sure she NEVER has to go through what I did.” She looks at me; her eyes are frenzied and desperate. “She was close, she was SO close, to getting her own life without all this bullshit, and then this happens… I’m not gonna let it end like this. I’m gonna find her, and I’m gonna make sure nobody ever hurts her.”

She jabs a finger in my chest, her voice demanding. “And you will do your fucking job, got it? Now stop wasting time, get whatever is in that computer; it’s the only way we can get her home safe.”

She storms out, and I’m alone.

I sigh, rubbing a hand over my neck before flicking away the last remains of the cigarette stub. Got the insight I needed, but still not everything I could use. There are still things I’m missing, things she hasn’t said.

I take out my phone… and I freeze.

The screen flickers, like it's short-circuited.

I stare ponderously for a second, as my eyes widen in realization.

When I’m cracking a case, when I approach the truth, and the pieces fall into place, it doesn’t feel like I’m beating the odds. There is no one to save, only victims to avenge. The only solace one can take is that the guilty are punished.

But a life is on the line. A young woman.

It feels like a countdown has started. The sands in the hourglass fall, and I need to hurry before something terrible happens.

I’m taking a risk. A lot could go wrong.  

But it can’t be for nothing; I won’t let it.

Nothing is hopeless, not while there’s life.

I take a gamble, and I venture deep into Majestics territory. The thugs I interrogated all point to the same location. The warehouse where Maxima was last seen.

There are a few gangsters guarding the perimeter, but there is no merchandise, no weapons, or drugs. They appear to be protecting nothing. I know better.

The shadows and I move as one as I silently approach and knock them out one by one. Sleeper holds that cut off the air as they fall unconscious, and shadowy vines wrap around their necks until I’m sure they’re gone like a light.

The building seems empty, so I quickly spot stairs going down to the sub-section. I walk down, and I’m met with endless dark. But I have good instincts when I’m in the dark; I can tell this place isn’t empty, and I’m not alone.

I manage to find a switch, and my heart skips a beat when I see a woman tied up to a chair. Blindfolded and muzzled. Even with the binds on, I recognize her from the pictures.

“Marie?” She looks up, startled. I approach her, reassuring her as I do. “It’s alright, I’m here to help.”

A tendril extends and cuts the gag, muffling her. She gasps, spitting a few times. “W-Who are you?” Her voice is rough, coarse.

“Name’s Nocturne,” I say as I remove the blindfold. “Been looking for you.”

She blinks a few times, eyes adjusting to the light. “The detective?”

“That’s my job.” I try to keep up a mostly cheery tone, hoping it puts her at ease. “Come on, we’re getting you out of here.” I cut the ropes, and she rubs her wrists, feeling relief after so long.

“Oh, thank God…” She stumbles the moment she stands up and takes a step; fortunately, I’m fast enough to catch her. “Fuck! My ankles hurt…”

She was wound up too tightly; her ankles were bruised, her feet likely numb. I easily lift her in my arms, telling her to hold on tight as I hurry out of there. “Was investigating the Majestic.” She suddenly said, her voice still raspy. “M-My power, I can intercept communications with devices I make. I found out they-“

“Later,” I hushed her. “Save your strength.”

Need to get her to the nearest police station, contact the FPF, and get a protective detail on her. Getting her to safety is the highest priority.

“But we need to-!”

She doesn’t finish; I get us out of the sub-level and freeze upon the sight that awaits us.

Maxima, her form circling with barely restrained energy.

“Put. Her. Down.” She growled, her distorted voice echoing with fury. “Now.”

Marie is trembling in my arms.

Fuck, didn’t think she’d appear so fast.

I’m forced to use my last tricks.

“Trust me, okay?” I whisper to the girl; she panics as I sit her down on the wall.

Maxima aims a hand humming with power at me. “Now leave.”

I shake my head.

“I can’t do that, Juliette.”

Maxima freezes.

Marie gasps.

“How the fuck-?” Her voice drops the distorting effect, revealing it’s her.

“You short-circuited my phone. Twice.” I explain. “First time when you attacked me, second time when you got angry on the roof.”

Her body trembles with rage, mostly aimed at herself. “Fuck... FUCK!” Sparks of lightning escape her figure. That same lack of control was what tipped me off to her.

“Juliette?” Her sister mutters, disturbed at the revelation.

“Marie, listen.” The villain quickly panics, holding up her hands. “It’s not what you think-“

“You helped them kidnap me?” The young woman’s voice was heartbroken, hurt, and angry.

“NO! No, I swear I would never hurt you! I-I kept them, kept HIM from hurting you!” She quickly said, desperate for her sister not to hate her. “I only found out about this after they took you!”

“For almost a year, you did not participate in any of the Majestic’s activities,” I said, speaking up. “But your sister got dirt on them; they found out and kidnapped her. Didn’t kill her because she has something they need.” I narrow my eyes, standing between her and Marie. “The information she took is stored in her laptop, encrypted; she was going to turn it in to the FPF.”

Maxima says nothing.

“So you hired me, not to find your sister, but so that I could get the laptop.” I unveil my conclusions, laying out all the pieces on the table. “Because you needed it in exchange for her safety.”

“You just had to hand me the laptop!” The older half-sister snarls, flailing her arms widely. “I could have gotten her away from all this! They just wanted the laptop!”

“You think they would have let me go if they got it?!” Marie cried out curiously. “Juliette, what the fuck did you think was going to happen?!”

“What were YOU thinking?!” The older sister accused, more out of fear than actual anger. “Snooping into the Majestic’s deals?! Haven’t I told you what Forté does to people?!”

“It’s precisely because you told me that I had to investigate!” Marie shouts. “Mom worked for them, didn’t she? I pieced it together after I heard her argue with your dad.” Her voice lowered; the pain was still fresh. “He had them killed, didn’t he?” Her eyes were wet with grief.

Juliette fell silent. I could almost see the tears running down her cheek.

I closed my eyes and sighed heavily, tying up the last thread. “Forté is your father.”

People want truth, and sometimes that truth is more painful than any mystery.

But I could still fix this; I could still make sure these two had a worthwhile future. One they could build together.

“You tried to keep your sister safe all this time because you love her,” I said. “You refused your father, despite your claims. You were strong enough to say no to him and go your own way.”

“Until he kidnapped Marie,” She muttered, low and broken. The energy that seemed to course through her fizzled out. “And I understood I never had a choice. Don’t you see? He’ll never let me go, never let any of us go!” She suddenly cried out; her voice sharp with desperate sobs. “The best I can do is get him to forget about all this, just… let Marie go, and she can make her own life. Away from all this, from him, from ME!”

She let out a choked sound.

“Only then can she be happy.”

“Juliette…” Her sister muttered, stunned. Heartbroken at the thought of a life without her older sister.

“She wants you in her life, Juliette,” I muttered with compassion.

“She can’t, don’t you get it? I’m his.” She hissed. “His puppet, his tool. There’s nothing for me out there. Everything I have is all due to him. My life is nothing but his whims; I can’t…!” She sobs. She doesn’t look like a supervillain right now, just another broken soul.

Another broken parahuman. We’re all broken people.

Lost and desperate, forever bound by the trauma of how our powers manifested. By the singularity of a breaking point that unleashed abilities as a way to survive in that horrible moment.

I knew what it was like to be lost in the void with no escape in sight. No glimmer of light, no beacon to light up the way.

Alone and adrift, caught in that swirling emptiness…

…and that’s why I fight. That’s why I make sure the lost always get their justice.

Because even if the universe offers us no answer, then we can make our own.

That’s what I believe. That’s what I’ve always believed in, even before the Glitch.

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Juliette.” I insist, putting all the strength of my beliefs into my words.

She looks up to me like a lost child.

“You want a way out; you want a life beyond the chains your father made for you. Because you don’t belong to him; neither of you do. Nobody owns you, not some villain, not fate, not even the gods. Your life is yours.”

I hold up my hand, offering it to her. Probably the only lifeline everyone’s ever given her. And I mean every word I said.

“I’ll get your sister somewhere safe, and then I’ll take down your father. I swear he will never harm you or your sister again. You will get the life you deserve.”

She looks at my hand, at my pledge to help them, like it’s a foreign alien thing. Like she has no idea what to do with this terrifying feeling that is hope.

“Juliette…” Her sister’s pleas are the last things she truly needs. “Please”

The older sister licks her lips and slowly reaches out-.

“Very touching, detective.”

Force. Pure raw force slams down upon me.

I cry out in pain as I’m forced to my knees by that invisible force. The ground cracks around me.

Juliette steps back, looking deathly afraid. Marie cries out for me.

I force my gaze up to see a sharply dressed man in a double-breasted vest, pieces of jewelry tucked into one of the pockets, most likely a watch, and the buttons are connected with golden threads. He wears pristine white pants and an equally white long coat over his shoulders, the sleeves trailing behind him. He holds out one arm, the pressure of his power pinning me down. The mask covering his face looks immaculate, like the type of thing the nobility would wear for carnivals during the Renaissance.

“Forté!” I ground out, trying to push myself out of this raw pressure weighing down on me.

“You just had to involve yourself in my affairs, didn’t you, Nocturne?” His voice is deep; he speaks to me as though he is merely annoyed, like he stained his expensive shoes with mud. “And you,”

Juliette withers under the tone. Her pose arches forward, joining her hands like a trembling child.

“You thought you could go behind my back, negotiate for your putrid sister’s life?” His words come out hissing. “I already spared her life because you begged me to, and this is the thanks I get?!”

I shout as his power increased the pressure.

“I indulged your streak of rebellion long enough, the same mistake I made with your mother.” He sounded disappointed in himself. “I should have learned from the first time. Now I’ll make sure you learn your lesson.”

“Father-“ She tried to intervene.

“Silence.”

She cowered once more.

“She’s not your puppet!” I ground out, putting all of my strength into my words, trying to reach out to her. Let her know it’s not too late. “She’s not yours… to do as you please!”

“She is whatever I deem her to be!”

More pressure, more cracks on the ground.

Had I not awakened before, I would be dead by now; my body wouldn’t have been strong enough to withstand this.

Yet it doesn’t make the experience any less painful.

“Just like this city is whatever I wish it to be!” He was shouting, lost in his own megalomania. “I used to rule these streets! Everyone knew to fear the name Forté! And they will again; I will make sure this country knows the Majestics are a force to be reckoned with, once I have the weapons I was promised!”

I look back to Juliette, who dared not look at her father. Too afraid that even looking at him would draw his ire to her. Like it must have done many times in the past.

“You’re more than his blood, Juliette!” I scream, desperately needing her to see it. That even if I die now, there will be a part of her who’ll understand this and break free on her own one day.

“Juliette!” Her sister cries out.

It gets harder to focus, gets harder to think with all this pressure falling upon me like an elephant’s foot.

For a moment, I ready myself to meet my old friends. To offer my apologies and be welcomed with smiles. For the shadows to embrace me…

A discharge of lightning.

“Ack!” I hear Forté shout in pain.

And the pressure vanishes in an instant.

I gasp and look up. Forté is holding his arm; the sleeve is burned, falling to pieces. The smell of burnt flesh assaults my nostrils.

I see Juliette holding up a trembling arm, the last flickers of energy still coursing around her limb. She looks dumbfounded, like she can’t believe what she just did.

Forté is furious.

“You… ungrateful little brat!”

I move.

I spring up from the floor in an instant, fighting against the lingering pain, and call my shadows around me, moving like tendrils and becoming scorpion tails ready to strike.

Forté raises his good arm and forms a barrier of pure force, like solid gravity, and the tendrils shatter around it. The force pushes forward, and I shield my face as it hits me with the strength of an explosion. My shadows flicker and shield me, taking the brunt of the damage.

I pull myself to the roof with a long shadow acting like a rope, and swing around the warehouse. Forté fires his blasts in quick succession, punching through the roof with invisible power. The night of the moon slips through the holes; he intends to bring the ceiling down on them.

I take a quick look down; Marie is holding her head, shielding herself from the broken rubble that falls around the place.

Juliette is still too stricken to even move. Like she doesn’t even know what to do right now.

I disconnect from my shadow and fall to the ground.

“Die, damn you!” Forté shouted, the rage of not being in control of the situation pushing him to act rashly. A shockwave extends from his hand, seeking to reduce me to a smear.

I sink into the shadows once I touch the ground.

In the darkness, I can feel everything around me. The shades act as a window into the physical plane, and I move through the blackness as though I’m swimming through a sea of tar. It is difficult and slow, but I’m safe.

“What?!” I hear him cry out in shock. “Since when could he-?!”

I emerge twenty meters behind him, pulling out my revolver and charging it with this mystical power that blessed me. I gather the shadows into my hand, and light up the barrel with purple crackling power.

He turns just in time to create another barrier with his unwounded arm.

And I pull the trigger.

It cracks like a thunderbolt, and it collides with his barrier in a torrent of force. Darkness and energy clash against this invisible power, like an unstoppable force meeting an immovable object.

Forté shouts, his rage and his will keeping the bullet shrouded in shadows at bay. The building trembles around us, and the ground threatens to split open.

For a moment, I fear it won’t be enough.

Then, lightning strikes once again.

Forté falters; his grip on his power weakens for a moment, but that is enough.

The bullet pierces the barrier.

And right through his chest.

A bloody hole forms where his heart should be.

The gangster looks down as he just realizes his organ is missing.

He doesn’t get any last word as he falls dead to the ground.

I stare wide-eyed at the sight before me, slowly shifting my gaze to the one I owe my victory to.

Juliette had struck her father once more, two moments of courage, one to liberate me, the other to make sure I could take him down.

Now he was dead, and the knowledge finally dawned on her.

She didn’t celebrate; she didn’t laugh or cheer. She began sobbing, an ugly, broken sound. But it carried with it relief, the relief that a nightmare was over. Yet the pain remained; it would not vanish just now; it would first need to come to the surface, to let it out after so many years of repressing it.

Juliette cried, throwing her helmet away so the tears could flow more freely. She sank to her knees and threw her head back, wailing.

Marie crawled her way to her older sister, holding her tightly and pressing her head against her chest. “I’m here, Julie!” She muttered, her own tears falling over her sister’s face, joining as one. “I’m here, it’s over!”

I watched as Juliette let out all of her pain and grief, feeling like an intruder upon their moment.

I sighed, holstering my gun.

Yes, at last it was over…

I don’t know how long Juliette cried, how long we all sat down after Forté’s death. But the sky was becoming purple; a smidge of orange heralded the sun’s arrival any moment now.

Juliette sat next to her sister, staring emptily at the air as they held their hands tightly like a safety line.

I stayed with them as we waited for the arrival of the police and the FPF forces. The sirens echoing in the distance let me know they would arrive soon, yet Juliette did not look the least interested in fleeing.

“They’ll throw you in jail, Julie,” Marie muttered. “You need to leave, now.”

“I don’t care.” The older woman repeated, her voice empty.

“Julie…”

“I did so many bad things, Marie. For him…” She let out a shuddering breath, his memory still haunting her. “I deserve this.”

“No, you don’t.” She insisted fiercely. “You can make your own life now. You can be whoever you want to be.” Marie lifted their hands. “If you want to turn things around, make a deal with the FPF, help them as a hero, and dismantle what’s left of the Majestics.”

Juliette snorted; the gesture lacked any sort of strength. “Like it’d be so easy…”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” I interjected. “But your sister is right; you have a choice now, Juliette. Do you want to leave your sister alone while you rot in jail? Is that truly what you think your freedom is worth?”

She was silent.

I shook my head. “I can’t make that choice for you, Juliette. But I’ll be damned if I let someone throw their life away like this. You can be more; you are more than what your father made of you.”

I knelt in front of her, looking directly into her eyes. I saw in them everyone I failed to save, the friends and comrades I lost…

No, not again.

“I’ll put in a good word for you; I have friends in the Marseille branch. They’ll cut a deal if you surrender; you’ll rebrand, become a hero. Be the type of person your sister admires.”

I held out my hand.

“The type you can be proud of.”

She stared at me for the longest moment.

And to my eternal relief, she accepts my hand.

I sigh as I help her stand up, Marie joining us, leaning against her sister as her ankles still hurt.

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

“That is all any of us can do.”

“I know you can, Julie.” The young woman hugs her sister, and the two hold each other tightly. The love they have for each other is so earnest and true that I have doubt Juliette will succeed.

They part after a moment. And Marie looks at me. “Do you still have my laptop?”

“Yes. Sorry, I had the encryption cracked with a friend. Felt I needed the info to find you.”

“Yeah, I get it.” She sighed, running a hand over her brown locks. “So, you saw the people Forté was talking with.”

“Omega,” I muttered, testing the name. “I haven’t heard of them before.”

“I think they’re some group from the US. They seem to have a lot of tinkertech, robotics, and stuff. Seems they were cutting a deal with Forté; they wanted to sell him weapons or something."

"Tinkertech weaponry could have really turned the balance of power in the city," Juliette mutters. “With him gone, let’s hope Omega’s offer is gone with them.”

Marie bites her lip. “It was they who alerted Forté of my spying. They detected me; t-that never happened to me before!” Her sister stared at her in concern.

A concern I shared. “I see… these people must have some truly cutting-edge tinkertech. I’ll need to inform the FPF about it; you have to share everything you found with them too.”

“Right,” She nodded.

“If they come from the US, then hopefully the Guild and Interpol can look into this.”

Omega, the word rolled around my mind repeatedly. My instincts were telling me something was wrong. Perhaps it’s my paranoia, but I can feel the shadows warning me that something was coming.

But that was tomorrow’s problem. The sirens drew closer, and I needed to give the police and the FPF my testimony, make sure they wouldn’t just throw Juliette in jail.

“Nocturne,” The former criminal mutters, the gratitude in her eyes reinforcing my belief in this job. “Thank you.”

I tip my fedora and smile under my mask. “All in a day’s work.”

The night parted, and my old friend retreated, bidding me a gentle ‘until tonight’.

As our mutual friend, the dawn greeted us like it always did. Beyond the darkness of the night, there was warmth and light.

People are always searching for something. Truth, justice, meaning.

Me? Perhaps I’m looking for all three. I delve into the darkness to bring out even the smallest glimmer of light.

For even in the depths of the Nihility that plagues this world, there is always something worth fighting for.