Business

I woke up this morning and went to my desk. Hideaki had rearranged the entry room of his old place into a sort of mini office. My desk, complete with laptop, telephone, and drawers full of files. I reached under the desk and pulled out some of my cup ramen stash and took it into the kitchen. I filled it up with water and put it in the microwave. I know you're supposed to fill them with hot water and let it soak in a while, but I really don't give a shit. As I was starting it up, I heard my phone start ringing from the office, so I went to pick it up.
“Solar Progeny, Tony Helioson speaking, how may I help you?” I asked.
“Can I get a double cheeseburger with fries and a diet coke?” asked a failiar voice from the other end.
“Very funny, HELLFIRE,” I said. “So why are you calling?”
“How do you know this isn't Estren?” the voice said.
“Estren would've asked for the toy,” I said. I heard the microwave beep. “Excuse me, I'll be right back.”
I went to grab my ramen and some chopsticks (because that is the best way to eat ramen) and went back to the office. Being too lazy to pick the phone up again, I hit the speaker phone button and sat down.
“So how's Venice this time of year?” I asked.
“On fire,” HELLFIRE replied.
“What?” I asked.
“It wasn't my fault!” HELLFIRE said.
“It wasn't the pyrokinetic psycho's fault?” I asked. “Okay then.
He spoke again, only somewhat softer. Estren was the one talking now. Although Estren and HELLFIRE share the same body, and thus the same voice, I had learned to tell which of them was in control.
“To be fair,” Estren said. “It's not that bad. Just a couple buildings burning, and everyone's been evacuated safely.”
“Good to know,” I said. “So who done it?”
“Shikoba,” Estren said.
“Who's that?” I asked.
“A Dying Man shard,” Estren said.
“And a huge dick,” HELLFIRE followed.
The Dying Man. The Fear of death. That's what HELLFIRE is. The Dying Man was once a whole being, but a long time ago it broke up into pieces. These pieces can possess people, and control them. Most victims degrade over time, but not Estren. He's not a normal human. He can keep HELLFIRE in check. Most of the time. Fortunately, HELLFIRE's a good guy. Sort of...
Well, he's better than most other Dying Men.
“So, you've got a rival shard running around?” I asked.
“Yes,” Estren said. “We've been contacting as many people we can.”
“So we can inform you if we find out anything?” I guessed.
“Yeah, pretty much,” Estren said.
“If you hear anything, hit us up,” HELLFIRE said.
“Since when does the Dying Man say 'hit us up'?” I asked.
“Since go screw yourself,” HELLFIRE said.
HELLFIRE doesn't like swearing. Honestly, I think his comeback would have would better if he had dropped the F bomb.
“Alright, fuck-face, I'll let you fucking know if I fucking hear anything about this motherfucker,” I said. Then I added another “Fuck” for good measure.
“Yeah, whatever,” HELLFIRE said grouchily.
Then he hung up.
I sat back and finished my ramen. I took a quick glance over the five stacks of files on my desk. One was pretty big, but the rest of them weren't, really.
I made a call.
The phone rang for a bit before Daniel picked up.
“Hey,” he said. “What's up?”
“Saw your post,” I said. “Finally found Abdalin, huh?”
“Yeah,” Daniel replied.
“So, I guess you won't be needing the data Moss pulled up on him?”
“I dunno,” Daniel said. “Might be useful later.”
“I'll keep it handy, then,” I said. I lifted up the larger of the stacks and shoved it into my file cabinet, under “A”.
“Dig you dig up anything else?” Daniel asked.
“Yeah,” I said. “Moss and I snagged a bunch of files from the Archive. Want me to start with the ace?”
“Sure,” Daniel said. “What do you got?”
Marshall Smith. Also known as the Ace Of Chaos. A sorceror who's been around for over 800 years, the ancestor of Benjamin Malkator and David Kallaway, and, through a very complex series of bullshit, he's also another universe's version of Daniel. Don't ask. It's really weird.
Anyway, he sort of died, but his ghost is still active, and Daniel's been wanting to know more about his history.
So, I reached for the next stack and opened it up.
“Okay, there's a lot in here,” I said. “Want the short version?”
“Sure thing,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “Supposedly, he was experimenting with mana for 76 years before he learned to properly meld light and darkness into chaos magic. It was four months after that that he killed the Ace Of Spades and acquired his mask. Over the course of the next 239 years, he killed 83 of the Game Master's cards, and 13 Emissaries. At that point, the Game Master began considering him a worthy foe and upgraded his mask.”
“Really?” Daniel asked. “And yet he left the self destruct sequence there?”
That's sort of how the Ace Of Chaos died. He tried using the self destruct function of his mask to destroy a himself, along with a Dying Man shard.
“I think that was the point,” I said. “It doesn't straight up say it in the files, but I think the Gae Master wanted the Ace to commit suicide. It was in the mid 1800's that the Game Master captured and imprisoned the Ace Of Chaos. He could have just killed him, but he kept him alive.”
“Because he wanted him to want to die,” Daniel said.
Daniel doesn't think much of his own intelligence, but he catches on faster than he gives himself credit for. He'd be as good a detective as me if he'd only apply himself.
“Yeah,” I said. “There's a lot missing from the files, but it says that in the late 1700s and early 1800s, there was a conflict with another time traveler.”
“Yeah, the Ace OF Chaos is a time traveler of sorts. That's why he was alive that long ago. Time travel's a weird thing. Apparently, it's possible to go back in time, but if you do, it splits up the timelines, and it becomes impossible to return to your old one.
“Another time traveler?” Daniel asked. “Weird. Does it say anything else?”
“Only that the Ace of Chaos won. It doesn't say anything else worthwhile.”
“Damn,” Daniel said.
“And get this,” I said. “Those 13 Emissaries he killed? Well, apparently, the Archangel refused to take their souls. According to the file, they were sealed somewhere else.”
“Weird,” Daniel said.
“I got a file on the Fury too,” I said, glancing at the next file.
“nd?” Daniel asked.
“And nothing,” I said. “It's all blacked out with sharpie. The Archive doesn't want anyone knowing about this guy.”
“You think the Fury's babysitter would know anything?” Daniel asked.
“I don't think Beta would know,” I said. “This is Alpha level stuff. The rest pf the Archive is as in the dark as we are.”
The Fury is a weapon. A man covered in bandages, who does the Archive's dirty work. The Archive is a group that serves the Fear called the Blind Man. They're primarily an intelligence gathering group, but they're still dangerous. Especially the Martyrs. The Fury is monitored by Martyr Beta, the second in command of the warrior faction, but I don't think he has access to the information regarding exactly who the man he's charged with is.
“So, nothing useful on him?” Daniel asked.
“Well, maybe,” I said. “There's some surgical documents dated in march of 2013, so we know he's had some work done on him.”
“Yeah, that's totally useful,” Daniel said, with more than a hint of sarcasm. “Anthing else?”
I movewd to the next file.
“Some stuff on the Red Cap,” I said. “I got a lot of stuff, actually, but I only have the more recent stuff out right now.”
“Good news or bad news?” Daniel asked.
“Depends on the definition of good and bad,” I said. “Our universes Red Cap is losing the war. Its numbers are dwindling.”
The Red Cap is the Fear of lust. It's a liquid being, a lot like blood, that infects peoples bloodstreas. It causes them to embrace their darker nature. And it can possess them at will. Soe time ago, Daniel accidentally triggered an occurrence of dimension bleeding, causing a bunch of other Daniel's to be pulled into our universe. Their all dead now. Long story.
One of those Daniel, who we call Red Daniel, brought some of his universes Red Cap with him. It spread, infecting a large number of people, and has been waging war with our world's Red Cap. The people infected by the Red Cap are called Blood Vessels. Our universe's Blood Vessels have become calling themselves the True Redness, while those infected by the other Red Cap call themselves the High Blood. And so far, High Blood is coming out on top.
“The way I see it,” Daniel said, “Is that this war is Evil vs. Evil. I don't care which side wins. It's the people caught in the crossfires that I'm worried about.”
“I know,” I said. “That's the bad part.”
“Give it to me straight,” he said.
“Fourty-eight casualties,” I said. “And that's November alone.”
“Shit!” Daniel said. “I've gotta do something about this bullcrap!”
“Well, I have a location for you,” I said. “Give me a sec.”
I turned to my computer, and after a minute or two of typing, I emailed the info to Daniel.
“You get it?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said. “It's a State away. And I have to wait for O'Zalia here so he can pick up Callin...”
“You could probably be there and back by the time Isaac arrives if you can get a ride.”
“I'll talk to Abby about it, but I'm not sure if I wanna take the risk,” He said.
“I know,” I said. “I have one last document. Some stuff on something called the Daesidgean Crest. I thought it might be important.”
“Will it help be combat the Fears?” Daniel asked.
“That has yet to be determined,” I said.
“Will it bring me closer to the answers I need regarding High Blood or Marshall or any of the other fuckers I've been looking into?” He asked.
“I don't know,” I said.
“Then it's useless to me,” he said. “File it away under 'U' for 'Useless'.”
“Sure thing,” I said, setting it aside for later. Regardless of what Daniel says, I still think there might be something important about it. “So how's Abdalin?”
“Asleep,” Daniel said. “I think he's recovering from a drinking problem.”
“Can you blame him?” I said. “The Game Master was more than a boss to him. They were practically brothers.”
“I know,” Daniel said. “I think I'd be just as hurt if you... well, you know...”
I knew all too well. I had seen what happened to him when Malkator died. He's been hiding the pain, but I know he's still hurting. And the worst part is that he blames himself. He feels responsible for Benjamin Malkator's death, and nothing can be said to convince him otherwise.
“Well, look man,” I said. “You be careful. It would suck for me too if you died.”
“I know,” he said. “Good luck with the Agency.”
“Fight on, an,” I said.
We hung up.
For the past year, former SMSC agent Moss Garden has been helping me start the Solar Progeny agency. He helped me get my official Investigator lisence. Before that, I was just an amateur detective who found lost dogs and shit. Now I'm the real deal. And Hideaki's letting me use his place as an HQ. I take whatever case comes my way, but my big thing is Fear related cases. And not an hour after I hung up with Daniel, one of them knocked on my door.
I answered, and allowed a young woman in.
“Welcome to Solar Progeny,” I said. “My name is Tony Helioson. How can I help?”
“I'm Keursio,” she said.
A familiar name. I had seen in before, on Malkator's old blog.
“Wait,” I asked. “The 300 year old magic pirate Keursio?”
“Yes, that's me,” she said.
“So how can I help?” I asked. In y experience, 300 year old magic pirates aren't as surprising as they should be. I've seen weirder shit.
“It's my sister,” she said. “She went to investigate something last night, but never came back.”
“What was she investigatin?” I asked.
She gulped.
“The True Redness,” she said.
Damn it. Why can't it ever be Timberwolves? I'm sure I could handle a Timberwolf or two. Blood Vessels are another story entirely. They're total masochists. Being in pain is like sex to them. It only makes them stronger, and more aggressive. But I swallowed my fear, and continued.
“Do you have a location?” I asked.
“Club Jouissance,” she said.
I knew the place. It was two towns away. I've suspected it of being a Vessel establishment, and apparently so did Keursio's sister.
“Hold on,” I said.
I walked into the living room. There's a weapon rack- and actually fucking weapon rack- in Hideaki's living room, on one of the walls. He's got a ton of japanese weapons there. I'm not allowed to touch the actual steal, but he says I can use any of the bokkens or kobudo weapons he has there.
I grabbed one of the bokkens. A bokken is a 32 inch oak weapon, carved in the general shape of a katana, and used for sparring. A lot of samurai used to use them in battle, to prevent damaging their katana. It's a fact that more people have been killed by bokken than by actually katana. I'm not sure if wakizashis or kodachis are included in the ratio, but that's still pretty impressive for the bokken.
The club doesn't open till later tonight, so I'm writing this post and doing some research on the place before we leave. We're gonna drive out there and see if we can find out anything about Keursio's sister. Wish us luck.

-This is Tony Helioson, signing out.