Chapter 369 Preparing For The Aa
Chapter 369 Preparing for the AA
Aldrich’s next stop was the Panopticon. V had received correspondence from Emrys, president of the AA, that they now requested Aldrich’s presence.
The Halo Carrier was in low orbit situated approximately a hundred miles outside of Haven where, at a designated meeting site, Aldrich would be escorted to the carrier, then to the Panopticon itself.
It was part of the deal Aldrich had struck with Emrys. In exchange for cooperating with the Vanguard heir search and receiving all rights to the successor’s power, Aldrich would help the Panopticon enhance its defensive capability against demonic possession.
Emrys had assured that the trip to the Panopticon would be done via warp, thus it would not take long at all, leaving Aldrich time to join Bart and heal his dinner at late evening.
This was Aldrichs’ most important meeting. It gave him access to Vanguard’s journal. And it gave him access to the Panopticon’s inner workings. He had a tentative working relationship with the AA and Panopticon for now, but if he could see more of how they functioned, he could determine better whether he could support them more or not.
To accompany him to the meeting, Aldrich took Valera, his most trusted guard, Dracul for raw power, and Fler’Gan and V for their knowledge. Within his Phylactery, Aldrich kept Chrysa for her warp capabilities.
Aldrich had told his group to meet up with him atop one of Haven’s walls. So far, it was just Aldrich, Valera, and Dracul. V and Fler’Gan would come by with Chrysa after prepping Haven for their exit. V especially needed time to boost cyberspace security due to her absence.
“Six days.” Dracul spoke softly, more to himself than anyone present, staring off into the barren distance.
“Are you ready?” asked Aldrich.
“I have been ready for twenty five years,” said Dracul. “We will be one step closer to wiping out the scourge of the Valentino family.”
The Valentino family was the head of the Italian prong. Underneath them were the D’angelo and Accardo. There were more families besides them as well, but those were minor in comparison.
The Italian prong was a strong ‘core’ of three families with revolving, replaceable ‘gears’ surrounding it formed by more minor crime groups. This made their operations, as Feather pointed out, highly widespread as they had manpower all across the world to work with.
“I wasn’t questioning your resolve,” said Aldrich. “That much, I already know is a given. It’s about the potential contingencies they have for you.”
“I know. I read your report,” said Dracul.
Aldrich had received additional information about Mel as to how Dracul was sealed by A.I.I. in the future. When A.I.I. took control of the Scrapheart and made its identity public, Dracul was the first to strike against them.
Dracul did it alone, so there were few concrete details as to how his one man mission went. What Mel did know was how it ended. It was an anomalous object stolen from the Irregulars Department codenamed the ‘Eliminator’.
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It was a spherical projectile that, when simulated with sufficient energy charge, activated, creating a vortex of spatial distortions that could target specific individual targets, devouring them until there was nothing left.
The origins of the technology were unknown, but it was most certainly extraterrestrial, sourced from the Unraveling.
“I hear that your strength is tremendous,” said Valera. “I respect power. But power must be reliable for it to be true.”
“One of my men used to say something similar,” said Dracul, closing his eyes in remembrance. “But do not worry yourselves. I can see how such an object may be dangerous to me. I tend to spread my darkness across vast swathes, and your report states that the object locks on to targets even with minor exposure.
So long as I keep my darkness contained, I will face no real threat from such a slow moving mechanism.”
“I understand that the Italian prong also has tech that’s meant to counter you. The Lightbomb-,” began Aldrich before he was cut off by bladed tendrils of darkness rising around him.
Aldrich’s magical energy raged around him in threatening display. Valera manifested her shield and pointed it at Dracul, the hellfire rippling from her bulwark’s maw.
“Do not mention that name again,” said Dracul, surprisingly calmly. He withdrew his darkness. “My apologies. I try to remain calm. But some words, some things, they rip reaction from me before my cooler mind can prevail.”
“I see,” said Aldrich, his energy aura simmering down as the darkness faded away. Dracul, it seemed, suffered from PTSD. It would be difficult to determine exactly how much that would make him a liability, and prying into it seemed rude, so-
“You have the Warrior’s Stare, and the way you reacted now, before thought, by trigger, battle has worn you down,” said Valera.
Well, so much for tactfulness. But that was Valera’s way. Straightforward
“Warriors Stare?” asked Dracul.
“She means you have PTSD,” said Aldrich.
“Ah.” Dracul took a few seconds to speak again. “I know. I wish I did not let the past have such tight grasp over me. But if that were the case, I would not be here.”
There was a deep, deep sense of melancholy in Dracul’s voice. No, melancholy was always present in it, but it was more pronounced now than ever. He sounded tired. Underneath his expressionless, cool exterior, Aldrich could feel that Dracul’s will had long been worn down to a nub.
That lack of will made Aldrich suspect something. To confirm his suspicions, he asked, “There was something I did want to ask you. You wiped out the Russian prong twenty years ago, but since then, you’ve known the Italian prong has always been active. And that the Russian prong rebuilt themselves.
Why didn’t you go after them again?”
“In truth, I did not care much for them. I wiped out the past Russian prong, the ones responsible for my losses. I took them down to the last man, woman, and child, even infants in their cribs,” said Dracul. “After that, my vengeance faded, and I was left tired. I did not care enough about the other prongs or the new, unrelated Russian one.
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Wiping out the Italian prong, especially, with its many, many families, would take time and energy I simply did not have.
I was content in spending the rest of my days out in my state in peace.
But the attack on the Judicata made me understand that there were consequences to my inaction. Unless the entire swarm is culled, the infestation will always return.”
“I see.” Aldrich determined that Dracul also suffered from some level of depression that had rendered him inactive for many years.
“In truth, I did not care much for them. I wiped out the past Russian prong, the ones responsible for my losses. I took them down to the last man, woman, and child, even infants in their cribs,” said Dracul. “After that, my vengeance faded, and I was left tired. I did not care enough about the other prongs or the new, unrelated Russian one.
Wiping out the Italian prong, especially, with its many, many families, would take time and energy I simply did not have.
I was content in spending the rest of my days out in my state in peace.
But the attack on the Judicata made me understand that there were consequences to my inaction. Unless the entire swarm is culled, the infestation will always return.”
“I see.” Aldrich determined that Dracul also suffered from some level of depression that had rendered him inactive for many years. However, unlike his PTSD, it did not seem like an active point for self-sabotage.
Dracul seemed relatively motivated to fight in light of the Judicata attack. It made sense. Dracul’s sentinel state was a peaceful one where he took in refugees. Victims from underworld conflicts that spilled over to civilian lives or variant attacks. He was, at heart, someone that tried to do good.
The Judicata attack probably spurred him to get moving again. At the very least, Dracul would be good for the Blackwater fight, and that was all that mattered.
“Incoming, boss.” V’s voice echoed in Aldrich’s earpiece. He turned around to see her approaching atop a hoverboard with Fler’Gan using flight magic behind her.
V hopped off and collapsed her board until it was the size of a baton which she attached with a click to a magnetic strap at her utility belt. Aldrich noted that her belt had a variety of tools on it, some he did not recognize, some, the combat related ones like EMP charges, he did recognize.
She was dressed up in black uniform with a mask to go over her face, very much adding to her image as an infiltrator.
Fler’Gan was also dressed quite secretively, covered from head to toe in a hood and robes combo that made him look like an evil mage, which, technically, he was.
“This is supposed to be a diplomatic meeting,” said Aldrich. “What’s with the spy and dark mage combo here?”
“C’mon, I can’t just roll up in front of the AA and Panopticon in a sweater and leggings, right?” said V. “Have to show them we’re a force to be reckoned with.”
“And the helmet?” Aldrich asked, nodding at Fler’Gan. Fler’Gan seemed to have a mask-like helmet on, one that looked like it belonged to a torturer, which, technically again, it was. It was not sleek, having rough, pronounced edges of roughly hewn metal.
“It has come to my understanding that my appearance would cause great distress to human specimen here,” said Fler’Gan. “An understanding corroborated by Mollusk.” He shook his head wistfully. “At first, I believed Mollusk kin to me, but alas, it seems his mutation simply shapes his physical form to one similar to mine.”