Prelude Part 4

After my “bad dream,” I stayed away from sleeping. I’ve never been one to spend my time idly, so it didn’t matter. Instead, I replayed my fight with Arachne hundreds of times mentally, reviewing mistakes and wondering about exploitable weak points for next time. I also tended my wounds, bringing me back to fighting shape. But, unfortunately, it didn’t mean I was prepared for work again.

That was clear when my dog licked me awake to a notification that made my skin crawl. My boss finally summoned me, and he didn’t like to wait, leaving me to take the world’s fastest shower before making a one-way rampage straight to Titan. When I entered the base, I kept my momentum, appearing as nothing more than a blur to the surrounding agents.

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Silly as it may look, my speedy jaunt was more than warranted. I was already late enough as it was. So with my heart beating faster than a locomotive, I arrived at my superior’s office, more thankful than ever for James’ big mouth as he finished his latest story.

“And that’s how I used C4 to save my daughter’s art project,” he said with a nostalgic face.

“An illuminating story as always, James. I’m jealous you can make an average day more entertaining than a week’s worth of work,” my superior states.

“C’mon, Daniels, that’s still far more action than you give it credit for, sir,” he said while trying to keep a semblance of composure.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind. Though speaking of action, I guess we can finally get to it now that Sarah has arrived,” Morgan Daniels, the leader of Titan, said.

Considering who you usually see running these organizations on tv, Daniels was a lot to be desired. He wasn’t this hulking figure nor a sophisticated spy. Instead, he was a dark-skinned African American man in his sixties with a gray-tipped short Afro, nothing too much out of the ordinary. When you start looking deeper, you realize why he’s scary. And I’ve spent years scaring people.

For beyond his cavalier smile, his body told a story. The frayed sliver military jacket that showed experience and toned frame that didn’t match his age wouldn’t say much. His large scar on his right cheek would only tell half of it. No, when we first met, I could see the fire through his bright amber eyes unlike any other. A flame that’s warmth can quickly turn blazing. I guess it was time to see what side I was on, finally. With guilt welling up in my throat, I spoke out.

“Mr. Daniels, before we begin, I want to say sorry, and I promise that-“

“There’s no need to apologize, Sarah. You’ll get revenge soon enough,” he said with creeping aggression.

My face curled in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

Daniels’s eyes flashed as he pressed a button under his desk. Instantly the office room darkened its lights. Simultaneously a projector slid down from the ceiling, portraying a series of holograms on an opposite wall that unfurled several hexagonal reflective services. He then stood up with a small glowing pen, and his smile vanished utterly before getting to “business.”

“Because despite his best efforts, that rat Stan can’t hide his droppings. Between the Gearheads and Sleepers, we could finally string together a predictive algorithm for his smuggled shipments.”

A blue holographic display of the world levitated above him. Then, he zoomed on Cuba using the pen, eventually picking out four locations.

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“Stan’s shipments rely heavily on ahead-of-time orders and rapid switch-offs. Cross-referencing Stan’s past dealings and suspected salacious activity has made these four Cuban wharfs the most likely targets for storing the weapons. All we have to do is stake out each location with our smallest but strongest teams,” he said decisively.

From there, Daniels started to swiftly “X” out each location. Each stroke of the pen carried more weight and vindication, his fingers trembling when he got done. Waves of passive wrath filled his tongue upon his next set of orders.

“Once the buyers take the bait, we’ll eviscerate them and take the shipment. We may not have a confession from Stan, but securing his illegal stock can finally be the catalyst we need to bury the bastard. If this Arachne makes an appearance, all the better. His testimony could be equally valuable. Though with that said, do you accept this mission, James?”

James responded without hesitation, saluting valiantly.

“Of course, sir.”

Daniels then shifted his eyes toward me.

“And what of you, Paladin?” he said judgingly.

Through his tone alone, a simple question becomes a razor-sharp ultimatum. Time slowed down to a crawl with my body paused and processing. Despite preparation, my fear still grasped my throat, though, amid the man who’s given me this chance. I realize the Paladin has to prove herself to many. So I gulped down my doubts and saluted.

“Yes, I’m ready.”

Daniels gave me one last look before instantly regaining his cavalier composure. Then, with a click of his pen, the room turned normal. Before we left, though, he unfurled some words of wisdom.

“Good, I may have gotten a silver tongue from this position, but I always believe actions do far better in communication, especially with a strong heart to carry them out. Oh, but before you leave, Sarah, I suggest you visit your biggest fan. She has something for you.”

Knowing who it was, my mind groaned louder than a grenade. A couple of minutes later, James and I found ourselves in arguably the most dangerous place in Titan: the Gearhead’s workshop. Even through the custom steel door, I heard bloodcurdling screams, power tools, and explosions. We were left with one question.

“Are you sure we can’t just visit her later?” I said in an exasperated tone.

“You and I both know that would only delay the inevitable. She’s persistent. Besides, I always like seeing what cool stuff these guys cook up,” James said optimistically.

“Bet you wouldn’t be saying that if your last “upgrade” involved getting locked in a two-ton exoskeleton for five hours,” I recalled painfully.

“True, but my gear never needed an upgrade. Can’t improve perfection,” he said smugly while opening the door for me.

Reluctantly I joined him, immersing myself in madness. If Titan itself were like a giant subway, I would describe the Gearheads as a hyperactive brain with far too much time, money, and creativity on their hands. Once an idea gets put into their head, they’ll devote everything to see if it’s possible. Whether good or not, their workshop is all the evidence you need on this philosophy.

We entered a gray room with a concrete floor, though I doubt you’d tell. Considering how much soot, cracks, and bare parts were lying around. Which already would’ve made this a challenging obstacle course from the floor alone, but everything else was far more overwhelming. James and I felt like rats in the maze with how much machinery surrounded us.

From high-level military drones soaring in the air, electromagnets that could power a city block, and steel shredding armaments, it felt like we had entered a spaceship from a sci-fi show. In the epicenter of insanity was my biggest fan, who controlled the chaos like a band conductor with a drill sergeant’s grace.

“Chavez, ensure you reproduce the bonding agent! We need those polymers to stay together! Williams rebrace the grapple to handle the PSI! Briggs, make sure the insulation carries through the entire staff! We need to make sure everything is perfect for her! If not, I will expose your search history to the world, do you hear me!?” she said eccentrically.

Before she could continue her rant, a noticeable shiver reached up to her spine like a sixth sense. She then immediately jumped in a 180-degree fashion with open arms.

“Oh my god, you finally came,” she said as I got hit with the mother of all bearhugs.

Every personal boundary I had instantly got destroyed, forcing me to hold in screams as I softly pushed out of the hug to greet her finally.

“Hello Wiz, how have you been?”

While it was a standard question, her body told a message. Wiz has always been skinny to the point of unhealthiness, yet I’ve never seen her as frail, mainly because the rest of her screamed fearlessness. Her attire had ripped jeans and a long-sleeved shirt with Japanese kanji, both slightly pulled from some experiment going wrong. Though it didn’t matter, as her face beamed with excitement through her light mulatto skin, baggy eyes, adorable freckles, box glasses, and a top knot that was partially dyed blonde.

“Great, and even better now that you’re here. Right guys?” she said excitedly.

A thunderous sigh littered the background, with many of Wiz’s fellow scientists looking about as sleep-deprived as her. However, that didn’t dare stop Wiz, as she forcibly grabbed my hand and walked past the circuitry-filled jungle.

“You are going to love what we’ve made for you. I originally was going to fix your suit up, but then I got to thinking, and next thing I know, I’m firing up the incinerator,” she said enthusiastically.

My hair prickled in fear at that sentence alone, wondering what horrors awaited me. Instead, however, what I saw left me speechless. Previously I wouldn’t have called my first suit anything special, mostly a tailored biker jacket with a bulletproof vest, black mask, and goggles. Compared to this, though, it was a joke.

On a small mannequin, my outfit was given new life. My black biker jacket now has a prominent white gladius symbol on its back. It revealed a white T-shirt with a Kevlar vest lined underneath. Some light black combat pants and boots were on the lower body. The most significant difference was the amount of armor, with dark gray bracers, kneepads, shoulder pads, leg guards, and armored gloves peppering the suit with white stripes surrounding it. Completing the look was the face, complete with a black combat mask, neck guard, and devilishly dark red eyes. As I stood slack-jawed in amazement, Wiz talked about her craft.

“After rewinding your fight, I added more protection to your suit. Most main armor is composed of a unique Kevlar-carbon fiber weave ratio. I tried to account for your speed as best I could and ran through a few dozen test trails, but you’ll still notice an 8% decrease in speed. The red contacts and back symbol are just funsies since I know you can rock them. Same with the sai’s cause. Why fix perfection on that, right? However, those are nothing compared to your new toys. Bring it in, boys!”

Almost like clockwork, a set of half-dead men shuffled out an intricate glass casing featuring three different gadgets. One was a rifle that looked like a hook, a small metal staff, a new pistol, and a set of small black balls with a small white glue symbol. Wiz then entered her inner showwoman, rapidly increasing her speaking speed.

“You can call these new beauties your new anti-Arachne gadgets. Starting, we introduce your new grapple gun. Now with more power, better speed, and massive range, you shouldn’t have to deal with any more jamming. And with your new collapsible electro staff, anyone daring to grab your staff also is getting a nasty high-level taser-like shock,” she said demonstratively.

She started to get even more into the flow, like a performer on stage.

“But if you ask me, I would say that these are my favorite creations. To counter the offensive and defensive properties of Arachne’s adhesive, I decided to repurpose an old project from R and D, introducing the Gungnir pistol. A modified gun with seven custom armor-piercing rounds per clip, more kickback, and less ammo for more damage. Finally, the glue bombs are probably the hardest part of this endeavor. The entire chem lab was stumped on this for 48 hours straight, and while we can’t fully replicate it yet, these babies should still surprise him. So, what do you think?” she said passionately while taking huge breaths after.

I wish I could have said some profound quote or given a stoic look, but even after years of covert espionage, I couldn’t hide my emotions. So I let my actions partially speak for me. I walked up to Wiz and grabbed her hand. I know that her fingers got bandaged up to hell and back.

“You didn’t have to do this for me, Wiz. I’m not worth it, especially with your hemoph-“

“Hey, don’t go all doctor on me besides, if you’re going to risk your life. The least I can do is inconvenience mine. And if you win, no big deal. It means all this work was worth it,” she said sincerely.

From anyone else, that statement would’ve felt like another burden, another promise I have to keep. But from Wiz, it was like I had an entire cheer squad. So amid such infectious energy, I looked toward James and her while making my pledge.

“Then I promise I’ll put everything to good use.”

— New chapter is coming soon —
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