V M Patricide

[Ghost Orchid]

in reference to this quest. 10,000 words. Solo for Ghost Orchid.

It hadn't been anywhere near long enough for him to miss this place yet. He found himself feeling nostalgic anyways. The sky blotted out by speeding vehicles while he sat and watched repairs take place on the very damage he caused. He couldn't linger here long. Oddly enough, his disguise was to take the mask off for once. Vibrant red hair streaming down his face and covering his likeness while he doom-scrolled on a bench. Most people might be looking at the news or whatever the next horrific event was happening or was to happen. Ghost, though, was staring at a guest list.

Apparently despite all the interruptions Arcadia has been met with lately, it still found time to put on a lovely little gala. One where the nobility can speak masturbatory anecdotes about the very little they did in the day and how much money they stole from hardworking folks. Those kinds of worlds made the assassin sick. People like that made him sick.

Claudio was one of those people, it turned out.

After larping as a lowlife trying to make it, it was brough to Ghost's attention that this was all an act. No, Claudio, or known to high society as "Clay Adiore", was bottom of the barrel rich boy scum. Embezzlement, trafficking, a list of dead kids under his belt. This guy was going to suffer for what he'd done.

Ghost deep down knew he was a hypocrite for this. After all he'd done to Arcadia he couldn't really be mad at Claudio. But he was, nonetheless. At least Ghost hadn't intentionally blown up a quadrant of the city. Even if the guilt followed him.

The rogue stood up and slid his communicator into his pocket, followed by his hands. He meandered into crowds of people in order to blend in and make headway to find where the gala was taking place. Some gauche auditorium in the center of Arcadian Downtown. From the picture it was a fucking eyesore so he could only imagine what it looked like up close. A testament to the economic disparity the city shows. Kill the poor, feed the rich. Must be how you've lived this long, huh, Clay?

There was still a pang of hesitation in Ghost's heart. Claudio had given him a start. He'd been a mentor. The only father figure he'd ever really known. Beyond what he may have already forgotten. He knew he had to deal with that. He had to throw it away.

Do what must be done. Get justice for those he could while maintaining his own survival.

Keeping a low profile while attempting to infiltrate was going to be one hell of a task. Ghost Orchid needed to be at his absolute best.

458/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

The biggest obstacles currently were how to get into the gala. Getting a pass into that would be almost impossible. The moment he was scanned by any retina or fingerprint database he’d be fucked. He only got away with his current appearance because no one in Claudio’s roster had seen Ghost’s real face, not even the man himself. He’d made sure of that a long time ago.

The other obstacle he faced was getting Claudio alone. Not only would the fuck have guards around him when he went to the bathroom but this was an expensive event. There’d be armed security, cameras, and other lowlifes wandering the entire thing. A diversion would be necessary and making it look like he wasn’t involved was another monument to how absolutely fucked he was on this mission.

He stopped then.

And a thought occurred. He didn’t have to do any of this. What if he just walked up to the mage cops and turned himself in, faced his execution, and started again in the next life. All of this was. So much.

Ghost’s eyes wandered to passing guards as the thought drifted Before he could make his own decision his movement was impeded by something unseen. Before he could move any further an emanating wall of energy, barely a heat shimmer, stopped him dead in his tracks.

A voice came, ominous and wispy, slithering in his mind like a serpent.

“Do not.”

The voice was familiar but not recognizable. Not the same from the previous excursion. It was harsher and higher pitched. It sounded more violent.

“Do not throw this away, maggot.”

727/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

A bewildered and slightly frightened Ghost now stood at the edge of a crosswalk trying to process what was happening to him. The voice was there, he knew it even if it wasn’t talking now. He was fearful of responding as it may give his voice away if a patrol caught wind of it. He opened his mouth to whisper a question when a response came.

“Turn away. Walk towards the Gala.“

His lips connected again with no words escaping. Their dryness keeping them stuck as one without an active lift. Ghost did as he was told and turned to face the sidewalk again. His path now guided by the voice that had made its home in his head. The previous encounter with a voice like this was a dream, wasn’t it? How was it this one found it’s way into his waking life.

The sounds of civilian banter and passing vehicles drowned by the heartbeat bashing against the inside of his skull. He was beginning to sweat.

”Maggot. You will not disobey your destiny again unless you crave punishment.”

And with that, the presence dissipated. A tremendous amount of tension escaped his shoulders and legs and his heart rate slowed to a regular pace. His trajectory now set by the deities that seem to be so interested in his actions at least aligned with Ridley’s. Ghost couldn’t help but feel like a perfect pawn.

It wasn’t worth thinking about. The gala was approaching and he needed a plan. Now.

Ghost pulled his phone up to scan the details of the event once more. Hundreds of attendees, hundreds more wait and cook staff. It’s celebration was so vague. “A Night to Celebrate the Growth of Arcadia!” It was such a pandering-to-the-rich title. What did it even mean? What growth? Just literally? Like more buildings? And who celebrates that directly after a terrorist attack?

Weird kingdom.

The plan’s first step was simple in theory and ridiculous in practice. To overtake any of the nobles and go in dressed as them would be foolish at best. How would you answer questions asked, look at all like the person themselves, pretend to know who they knew. He hated heist movies. They were all so fucking stupid when it came to that.

Now a waiter had little to no rapport. A forgotten entity. That was who he needed to impersonate. Someone on the ground floor that would amid all while going virtually undetected. That his first move. And he only had a half hour before the thing kicked off.


A brief walk into downtown was pleasant until he was barraged with an avalanche of light that seemingly came from nowhere. It was as if the city had been In complete darkness moments before and the floodlights turned on in mere nanoseconds. In reality, it was just the neon from the red light district blaring into his eyes. Flashes of brightly colored signs with bubble lettering over the shops. A short walk through Tartarus if he wanted to find Elysium.

1,232/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

The district smelled putrid. Maybe that was an opinion only he held. Who knows. A mixed aroma of various perfumes carried most of the weight. They smelled like artificial flowers and fruits that had no business colliding in such a way. The rest of it was food. And nothing that smelled remotely appetizing. It was the kind of meal he ate just to have something to tie himself over when he was living here. Now that the future had presented itself to him it felt impossible to ever return. The Arcadian military would likely feel the same way.

Ghost tried to keep his head down in the midst of man flailing at women for their attention and street vendors. He couldn’t avoid it all, though. Someone tried to stop him in the middle of the street. A lizard folk throwing pamphlets in his face.

“ISSSSSS THE CHILD KING NOT ASSSS PURE ASSSSSS WE THINK? WHO REALLY ROBBED THE FIRSSSSSST ARCADIAN BANK? READ THE TRUTH HERE IN THE REPTILIAN TRUTH TRIBUNAL!”

Ghost tried to walk around the obnoxious solicitor but the saurian was giving no quarter. So the rogue planted a firm palm on the side of the lizard’s head, and shoved him out of the way. For all the good Erde Nona held in its wilderness, the modern city was a bonanza of poor taste. He was beginning to feel better off.

It would just be a couple more blocks before he was out of this area and onto the gala. It just hadn’t crossed his mind yet how he was going to get in beyond the waiter idea. He needed an outfit and how was he going to get it? Theft was his only option but he had no target.

“Hey hey, that’s a sight for sore eyes, what’s up Billy?”

Ghost turned his head to the conversation. A man sitting down at a burger cart. The dwarven chef was acknowledging him.

“Good to see you, Rocki. Got a gig tonight so I gotta be quick.“

”Hey man that’s great! Glad to hear you’re getting back on your feet there, man. You want the ush?”

”It’s awesome, Rocki. Gonna wait for the gala tonight. Those drunk nobles throw money around like candy at these things. Tips will be outrageous. I even brought my change of clothes.” The man held up a duffel bag.

Holy shit. Sometimes, Ghost was just in the right place at the right time.

1,640/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

“Wh-why did you do this..?” A now broken man called “Billy” asked the rogue who was emotionlessly wiping blood off his knuckles.

Ghost knew he didn’t need to do this. It was excessive in every right and the man didn’t deserve this. But fear was a powerful motivator. And his will go survive was now jump started by these eldritch voices compelling him to follow orders. It could be his only way to finding answers through all of this.

The still humane side of him did feel guilt. Lessened so by the fact that the man would be okay, and he hadn’t blown up an entire block of a city with a different eldritch nightmare. Everywhere he went; eldritch.

“I regret to tell you that I didn’t need to. But I did need you to understand what could happen if you didn’t part with your clothing. I need it more than you, and I’m a lot more dangerous than you.“

It felt like shit to say. It really did. He would make up for it. Ghost pulled out a number of coins and bent down to hand them to the man.

“Don’t let today destroy you. You will recover from this.“

With that he turned and exited the alley that he’d dragged the poor guy into, leaving him to deal with the beating and confusion on his own. We all had to find our own way, after all. There were no real saviors in the crossroads. Just strangers that took your duffel bag full of dress wear.

A quick bathroom visit in a nearby strip club landed Ghost out of his assassin gear and in full-on server outfit. Vest, slacks, bow tie, all in black and white. He threw his auburn hair into a tight bun and fled the club. T-minus five minutes. It would be a short walk but he’d cut it super close with his timing.

As he crossed the street to the auditorium he took in its massive presence. Golden base with filigree of verdant green and painted silver. A monument to the beauty that Erde Nona still held in places. A mockery of nature built out of limestone with grooves carved by incredible architects to make them look like Greek citizens reaching for each other in prone positions. Truly amazing. It was almost too bad he had to roll the red carpet all over it.

It was go time.

2,043/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

The back entrance of the auditorium itself, which he now considered to be more of a colosseum, had been propped open by several other members of the working staff while they passed around what was likely a joint. One coughed briefly and took notice of a rapidly approaching Ghost, to which they said,

”Getting here barely in time, brother. You know what section you got, yet?”

Ghost stopped where in his tracks. Had there been prior briefing to this job? It made sense. They would need to know their audience so that everyone had a personalized experience. Must be what they paid for.

“I… Don’t. No.” Ghost mumbled out. It was better to be honest and feign confusion. This way if there was an opportunity to learn and be forgiven for his lack of knowledge he would seem lost and scared rather than someone worthy of being canned.

The human man passed the weed over to the alien beside him before pushing off the wall he leaned against to walk over to Ghost. He took a look at Ghost’s chest and pointed.

“You don’t have a number. If that’s the case, you’re likely bussing. Easy as shit. Just wander the ballroom and pick up what the rich folk are done with.“

That was… Convenient. Not being tethered to a section offered him a lot of freedom. While considered a lower position in the career world that was not what he was here for. Thank goodness for the wealthy and ignorant thinking that their bus boys wouldn’t put a knife in their back.

Ghost nodded a thanks to the man then move passed him to get inside the building. He would enter through the preparation section of the kitchen. People inside were already going nuts and yelling about missing ingredients. It’s stark white walls made the place feel like a mental asylum rather than a place where food was made. Sous chefs and dishwashers in equivalently white clothing ran to and from, staining themselves as they went with whatever seemed to be around them. The rogue had several near misses with sprinting people who felt the need to work twice as hard today.

Without much effort he found the doors that led to the ballroom. Big grey and ugly things that barred the wealthy from having to see the help unless absolutely necessary. As he went to push the doors open a voice called out to him from behind,

“Hey! Don’t go in yet, dumbass!” The shrill and metallic voice barked. Ghost turned around to see an automaton chef pointing a large knife his way.

“We still have two minutes before the speech is done, if you fuck our bonus up for us, there will be hell to pay!”

2,501/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Ghost stepped away from the push doors as the chef had asked but kept his ears open so he could hear the end of the speech that was so important.

“…despite the terror Arcadia has faced recently we remain a pillar in the Crossroads. We will not yield to these terrorists who have taken the lives of so many innocent, so many of our military and police, and ruined so many of our businesses. On this day, hear me those who would put the sword towards Arcadia’s strength; we will not yield to you. You are another stain that cannot erase the gold sheen we extend to our citizens and to our workers. We are proud, and much stronger than your lot. Tonight, let us give respects to those who have perished in these tragedies. A moment of silence, please.”

Ghost did not want that silence. To be forced to ruminate on the calamity he was culpable to. There he was, though, as all others were, dead silent and deep in thought. Arcadia was like any other kingdom. It wanted to thrive and despite its failures it still tried to do right by those who lived inside of it. There would always be corruption. Those inside the cogs who spun them their own way, but that did not represent it as a whole.

No, those men who stole and blanketed the city with their misgivings were direct opposition to Arcadia and its beliefs. They were who made this place ugly. Arcadia wanted to be better than those people. It just couldn’t.

Not so long as those people continued to breathe. People like ‘Clay Adiore’. And he knew, deep down, people like himself as well.

The silence broke.

“For now, we spent this night as a celebration of what we have. Of gratitude and of love. Of our lives and our home. Tonight, we celebrate Arcadia!”

An uproarious applause erupted from the ballroom and the kitchen staff began to move again. Ghost pushed the doors open to let the waiters through before stepping out himself.

2,845/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

The crowd he was mashed into was obnoxious and he had to make sure he didn’t bump any of the servers and create a huge mess of everything. His job would be moving things that were finished back to the kitchen which meant he needed to be inconspicuous until he was able to intervene per his position. This had very narrow stepping stones that if he missed any one of he would collapse into the river and be held down by his neck by all of Arcadia.

No missteps, not now.

The way the waiters and chefs moved and dropped plates off was understatedly elegant. It was like choreography you’d see in synchronized swimming but in dress shoes. It was almost enough to distract him from his job. Ghost, vigilant as ever, did not succumb to such a performance. He had time until meals were finished to figure out where the fuck Claudio was.

Ghost‘s eyes flickered around the huge room and tried to find Claudio’s face amongst the immaculately dressed. It shouldn’t be difficult to find the sleazy, greasy bastard in the midst of all of Arcadia’s high society. He stood in the corner by the door, eyes darting every which way to figure out where he was. Meals were not going to disappear fast enough. He’d have nothing to clean up for a long while.

”Aye, bus boy.” A voice rang from beside him. One of the waiters from earlier outside was looking at him. Guy was clearly high as hell.

“There’s some app plates up on the second floor. Be gentle though, that’s the VIP section.”

Ghost looked up and didn’t see an upper floor. What did he mean? The waiter smacked Ghost’s arm and pointed to their right.

”Keep that way. Can’t miss it.” The waiter winked at him before walking back into the kitchen.

Ghost watched the young man disappear behind the push doors and let the words hang on his ears. He looked sharply back to the right in search of anything representative of a second floor but nothing stood out to him. Was this is a trap?

Against all better judgement Ghost walked towards the direction pointed out to him. As he approached, a shimmer began appearing in front of him. It was as if the heat in the room was warping as he got closer. When he finally stepped inside of the shimmer, the illusion dispelled.

A large ornate staircase appeared just beyond the shimmer. Above it was indeed a second floor. It was darker; more sleek. Ghost slowly went up the illusory staircase and ran a hand across the guard rail. Obsidian make and the carving of a serpent dragged itself across the rail as if it were alive. Some magic made it dance to and fro and it even looked at Ghost. They shared a knowing glance for a moment.

Ghost had always loved reptiles. He never talked about it because… Who would he tell? Supposed he could tell Ridley now but that dragon didn’t need two subordinates being overtly friendly with him. He continued on up the stair case with the intent of looking around and grabbing the dishes as quickly as possible. As he reached the top he heard it.

It wasn‘t possible to miss it. He’d heard that shrill voice bark jobs at him over a hundred times.

Ghost’s eyes followed the sound.

And there he was. Clay Adiore. Claudio. All done up for the evening and sitting in a booth between four women. Two large masked guards stood in front of the table.

Target acquired.

3,444/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Everything in the room stopped all at once. All sound, all movement, it all just ceased when he saw his face again. He was clean shaven and in this gaudy, awful yellow suit. He must have thought it would look golden under the light but it didn’t.

It looked like fucking piss. He was a man who embodied piss.

Luckily for Ghost, there was already many empty goblets of wine and champagne flutes at his table already meaning he could justify his pathway there. He crossed his arms behind his back and walked up with his best smile.

“Excuse me,” The rogue started. “may I take your dishes?”

Claudio briefly looked up from the shirt he was looking down and lifted his hand from the same woman’s ass. He threw his head back and laughed so jarringly it actually startled the assasssin.

“Why the fuck haven’t you already, shitstain? Hurry it the fuck up!”

He and the women laughed while the guards just looked at him briefly before turning back to their post. Ghost didn’t say anything else. He just gathered as much as he could with one arm. One of the women looked at him with a smirk as he grabbed her champagne flute. Claudio reached for Ghost’s collar and pulled him towards his face. Plates of food clattered alongside gasps from the women as Claudio’s eyes locked on Ghost’s.

“Have we met befirr?” Claudio asked, audibly drunk. Though his breath would have given him away, too.

“No sir, I don’t believe we have. Have I upset you in some way?”

Claudio looked at Ghost a long while before he slipped back into his seat and belched loudly.

“Nah, just thought you were some twink I seen at the titty bar.”

The rogue waited a moment before continuing. As he gathered the last champagne flute the same woman that had smiled at him shot him a sad glance. Not one of her own sadness, but one of pity for him. If only she knew.

As Ghost turned away, he noticed the guards phone jutting from his pocket. With a quick glance behind him to make sure the revelry was back in full swing, he reached his free hand down and snuck the phone into his own pocket.

He headed back towards the stairs to make his way back to the kitchen. It wouldn’t be long before the goon realized what had happened, and Ghost was counting on it.

3,853/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Ghost had barely made it to the bottom of the steps before he heard it. A barely audible ‘what the fuck?’ coming from one of the previously stoic guards. He could hazard a guess as to which one. The man would have to be an absolute idiot to not realize who’d done this to him. There was more chatter about the situation he could hear but as he stepped off the staircase the illusory floor began to vanish behind him, taking the audio with it. That was fine. He had his destination.

The rogue made his way to the bathroom and craned his neck. Indeed, the large guard was exiting the illusion and his eyes locked straight on with Ghost’s. The red haired assassin gave the man a flirtatious wink, which only served to infuriate the man further. Fish in a fucking barrel.

Bodyguards, security detail, it attracted the same type of person. With assassins and mercenaries you can see all sorts of people. But this oaf was so easy to manipulate it was barely any fun.

As Ghost approached the ballroom‘s bathroom a man in a green and white suit, clearly staff, put a hand to his chest and shook his head.

“Sorry friend, the help has to use the help’s restroom.”

Oh, shit. He hadn’t accounted for that. And the guy was approaching quick. He’d be forced to pass by him to even make it back it back to the kitchen. The distance between them was less than fifty feet; he’d be completely unavoidable. That didn’t matter. His anger wouldn’t allow him accurate reach. Ghost could do this.

The rogue made a B-line straight for him. Smile unwavering. When their paths crossed the man went to grab for his shoulders and one cute, little pirouette later, they were back to back and Ghost was headed for the kitchen door.

“Hey, fucker!” The man called out to Ghost as he turned to continue his pursuit.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid him in the kitchen. It might get messy from here.

4,197/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Ghost swung the doors open to the kitchen with great fury, and as he suspected, the man followed. The bodyguard was picking his pace up and now refusing to care about where he was and wasn't allowed. Even as the mechanical chef stepped to intervene and tell the man he wasn't allowed where the staff were, the robot was met with a quick brass knuckle to the gut. It knocked the chef down and gasps escaped everyone else in the kitchen staff.

Ghost turned then, to look at the man who'd devastated his fake boss. Even if the robot hadn't been his real employer, the poor thing hadn't deserved that treatment. He felt much more vindicated in what he was about to do.

The guard and Ghost locked eyes briefly before Ghost sprinted towards the back exit. The man followed like the fucking lamb he was and within seconds the two were behind the amphitheater in close proximity to one another.

"Give me my fucking phone and I'll make it quick." The man threatened. He stood taller to seem imposing and brandished his knuckles as a reminder of what he'd done to the chef. This guy would have been intimidating, sure.

If he hadn't just spent a whole day with Lilith.

This guy was a fly on the wall in comparison to what he'd already survived. This fucking nobody wasn't going to get away with working under Claudio, nor was he going to get away with what he'd done to the chef inside.

"Do you think you're big?" Ghost asked the man emotionlessly.

"What?"

"Big. Do you think you're big for what you've done. What you just did. Does it feel powerful to hold no guilt for doing that kind of thing? I wonder because it fucking torments me. What I've done, that is. One of those things being working under your boss."

The man looked confused and shook his head.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

Ghost chuckled then. Of course, this guy wouldn't get it.

"Doesn't fucking matter. Petal."

With that last word, Ghost slid his waiter glove off his infected hand and watched as Petal fully formed. His bow made of dreamless darkness drew back, then pointed at the man and fired. One solid arrow hit his brain and the man fell like a toppled statue to the concrete.

Fly on the fucking wall.

With him dealt with, he opened the man's phone up and hit his contacts. No password? He must've been incredibly arrogant. As soon as he saw the name 'Clay', he hit call.

4,621/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Clay had been sipping his champagne when the call came. He'd not even noticed that there was only one of bodyguards remaining until this. The phone call had snapped him back to reality from the divine moment of drinking and resting in face in gorgeous women's chests. The call was from his guard, Hersh, and he was confused as to why he was calling him at all. Just come back, right? Like why would he even question his post with how much Clay was paying him? His remaining guard, Noct, was a slimmer but still tall man and was dressed just as immaculately as Clay and the missing Hersh.

Clay held onto the phone for a moment, pointing at the spot where Hersh should be while his and Noct's eyes locked. Noct just shrugged. Clay rolled his eyes and clicked answer.

"The fuck are you? What the fuck am I paying you for if you're just going to fuck off with some tart?"

"You're a fucking poet, Claudio."

Clay lurched forward in his seat when he heard the voice. His eyes went wide in recognition from the voice. But that was impossible. Their last transmission was cut short when he'd gotten involved with that psycho Lilith. Clay sworn he'd been dead.

He tried to open his mouth to say something but was cut off by words on the other end,

"Children, huh, Claudio? Oh, I should be calling you Clay, shouldn't I? My bad. How many? How many dead fucking kids does it take to make you rich enough to feel secure? Or is it the power, Clay? Just knowing you can squash people like bugs whenever you fucking want. That's classic for someone like you, isn't it, Clay?

Clay began to sweat. How the fuck did he know his real name? He'd buried every lead. No merc he hired had ever even gotten close to knowing who he was. Did Hersh talk? Could Ghost Orchid make Hersh talk?

"H-hey I don't know what you heard bu-"

"I'm in the building, Clay. I've seen you already. I know exactly where you are."

Clay shook his head. He grew angry at what was happening. It didn't even make any fucking sense!

"Hey fucker, that's a weird way to talk to the guy who gave you a fucking chance in this city. Picked you up when you were scrap. How the fuck did you forget all that? I tried to get you to get away from Lilith, you didn't listen. How the fuck are you even standing? Oh right, because I helped you learn how to survive, you ungrateful fucking brat."

The women surrounding Clay had gone silent and Noct was looking at him concerned. He'd heard these kinds of conversations before and knew something was wrong. He also knew Hersh was likely dead. Noct turned all the way around to face Clay and listen to what he said.

The voice on the other side of the phone laughed.

"You know, I thought about that. You did do a lot for me. So you could pay me pennies and leave me smiling. So you could hide assets and cash for yourself. So you could kill kids and get away with it."

Ghost wasn't dropping the topic. He just kept bringing it up. How could he have known about it to begin with? None of it was adding up. The archives he'd need access too were long buried. The only possible way he could know would be if he'd-

Oh, god.

"Did Ridley send you?"

A few moments of silence.

"I'll see you soon, Clay."

Hersh has disconnected the call.

5,219/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Clay's hands were shaking as the phone clattered to the messy table in front of him. The women he'd brought up here now a long-forgotten luxury since his mortality was now at stake and in the hands of an ex-employee. Clay did not hire people to kill because he knew how to defend himself. He didn't. Ghost was a huge fucking problem and could be anywhere in this building, hiding maskless in wait. There was a ringing in his ears that prevented him from hearing Noct's words. His whole world was crashing around him. All these years had been consequence free. He had no idea how to handle this.

"Mr. Adiore."

His breaths were heavy and he began to sweat at the thought. The things he'd seen Ghost do. The things he'd told Ghost to do. The creepy archer never failed him. How could he expect him to fail here? When his employer was now Lord fucking Ridley, dragon tyrant. Clay knew he didn't hold a candle to that kind of power.

"Mr. Adiore, please."

He was going to die, wasn't he? Ghost Orchid was going to kill him, and he had no way to escape. This was over. All of it. He would nev-

"Clay."

The tall guard that had been trying to reach him slammed his palm on the table to jolt Clay from his stupor. Clay shook free of his daze and looked at Noct. His hired guards slick black hair was ruffled, and he looked more determined than he'd ever seen him before. Clay's shallow breaths prevented him from saying anything.

Noct stood up straight now that Clay was paying attention. He pushed his hair back and exhaled slowly. Straightening his suspenders, he began to speak.

"Whoever this is, is dangerous enough to kill Hersh. He came prepared and is intent on doing you in. Those are the facts. Now, I need your okay to find him before this gets out of hand. Stay here. Be in crowds. He dragged Hersh somewhere else to kill him. He won't want to make a scene."

Noct spoke calmly and confidently, which in turn sparked some confidence back into Clay. He nodded rapidly at the idea.

"Yeah, yeah, handle this. I'll give you Hersh's pay, I don't care. Just please fucking get rid of him."

With that, Noct smiled.

"As you wish, Mr. Adiore."

In a thin and frightening hiss, Noct disappeared in a puff of black and eldritch smoke. Clay's eyes widened at the ability. He'd never seen Noct do that before. It looked so similar to...

Clay shook his head. That wasn't possible, they'd never even met.

Why would he have the same element of magic that Ghost Orchid did?

5,667/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Noct reappeared on the roof of the amphitheater. The same wispy, black smoke surrounding him in a neat coil. His eyes panned the streets below as the magic faded. He already knew who he was looking for.

It was that red head. The one that had bussed their table. He felt it. Whoever was trying to kill Clay had the same patron he did.

Volus, Reversion of Stars.

Volus had never spoken to Noct about the fact that there may be others. The fact that there was, was a frighteningly exciting development. That meant what he’d thought their plan was, was entirely wrong. Noct walked to the edge of the amphitheater to look down. If he’d been bussing their table and posing as staff, the back entrance would be where he was.

While he didn’t see the assassin, he did notice something. Trickles of blood. Likely Hersh’s. The rogue was nearby. With another howling teleport, Noct went to examine the crime scene. It was amazing how little evidence there was of a fight. There was so little blood he couldn’t even tell how Hersh had died.

Amazing. This is amazing.

Noct was ecstatic. A peer? A worthy adversary? Someone other than the whining boss he worked under just for the pay? Noct smiled. A rabid smile. One of hunger and delight. This was the greatest day of his life.

His senses triggered. He threw his head backwards and narrowly dodged an incoming arrow. The thing had made virtually no sound. And it’s trajectory was for his brain. It was also jet black.

Found you.

Noct rushed forward when three more vantablack looking projectiles aimed to take his life. They were coming from further into the alley behind the amphitheater. He teleported through the trio and planted himself face to face with his attacker. A young man with long, bright red hair looked up at him in complete surprise.

“Brethren.”

5,986/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“We’re brothers. We share the same poison, see?”

Noct rose his shirt sleeve up and displayed an area above his forearm that was corrupted by void just like Ghost’s left arm. His eyes went wide when he saw it, barely believing it to be real. Ghost had never thought for a second another person may be dealing with what he was. That he’d have a peer in this Hell, and somehow he was guarding the man Ghost was meant to be targeting. What did any of this mean?

Before he could ask his next question, Ghost was struck with an immense headache. A splitting migraine that shot ringing through his ears. He gripped his head and grimaced as Noct looked at him in confusion.

“Brother, are you okay?”

Nocts words felt like bullets from the moment they reached Ghost’s ears. A familiar hiss returned in Ghost’s mind.

“DO NOT TRUST THISSSSS ONE. HE IS YOUR ADVERSARY. DO AS RIDLEY HAS ASKED OF YOU.”

Ghost yelped in pain as the words surrounding him did their work.

“THE OTHERS KNOW NOT WHAT YOU NEED, MAGGOT. VOLUS IS NO GOD.”

The pain was debilitating. He couldn’t even hear Noct’s words anymore. There was just whoever this was screeching from the inside of his skull.

“YOU WILL LEARN TO OBEY YALGORI, MAGGOT.”

And then as quickly as it came, it was gone. The headache, the voice, the ringing, all vanished in the blink of an eye. He was able to hear Noct again.

”Hey, are you alright? Let’s go chat somewhere. I can’t wait to learn what you know of Volus.”

”What? Who are you? I’m not here to talk about some shared trauma with a stranger. I’m here to kill Claudio.”

Noct chuckled a bit.

“Well I can’t have you doing that. He signs my checks after all.”

”Are you entirely aware of what your employer has done in his miserable life?”

”Why does it matter? People commit atrocities every day. Haven’t you killed an innocent man today?”

”Innocent seems a bit of a stretch.”

”How do you know? You don’t. You killed him because it got you what you wanted. You talk like you have so much bigger a moral compass than Clay, but you kill for your needs just as much. Don’t talk like you aren’t equally as slimy. Hersh was a good guy, and likely killed less than you have. Would this job not have been as easy as shooting Clay with your arrows and being done with it? Guess not, because you killed my friend for no reason.“

Ghost was speechless.

”I’m willing to overlook all of this for a chance for us to figure out what happened to the both of us, and the magic we’ve been bestowed. But if you think you’re a saint in all this, you’re not looking close enough. Guilt doesn’t make you a hero.”

6,473/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Ghost Orchid was wracked with conflicting emotions at this moment. This man, who was sent to kill him likely, was here offering an olive branch as long as they could talk about their twinned magics. He had a moment of wanting to do this. Thinking that he could even maybe break away from Ridley in this situation. That he and whoever this man was would be able to flee and not have to deal with any of this.

But those delusions were squashed quickly. He always had those ideas. He always wanted to break free from his fate. He just was not strong enough. If Ridley hunted him down as a mutineer there would be nothing he could do to stop him. With this piece of his past staring right in front of him, his heart broke. Because he knew he was going to have to kill him.

"I'm sorry. I can't." He said mournfully, just before pulling his bow back to fire an arrow at the man in front of him. Noct vanished into smoke once more as the arrow whizzed through the cloud of darkness and he reappeared behind Ghost. A solid side kick met Ghost's spine and he fell forward in pain and surprise.

"Shame." Noct says. "I guess I'll have to keep looking."

Noct rushed Ghost as he withdrew a Gladius from beneath his collared shirt. The void user went to plunge it into the heart of his kin, but Ghost was prepared for the assault. A swift kick to the man's ankle sent a shockwave of pain up his leg as an audible crack resonated from the blow. With a broken ankle, Noct stumbled backward, nearly falling over from the surprise.

Ghost drew his bow back one more time from his prone position. As it fired, Noct rose his Gladius up and swung it hard against the arrow. Void energy surged across the short sword, deflecting the projectile completely. With another teleport, Noct appeared on Ghost's left, aiming to stab his stomach. Quick thinking only allowed Ghost to block the blade with his forearm. He yelled in pain as the blade swung far beyond his bone and nearly reached his guts.

The rogue threw his left arm at the sword but caught Noct's wrist, sending void through the man's whole body, blinding him for a brief moment. With that opportunity, Ghost then grabbed the blade and yanked it out of his arm, turning it on Noct and cutting the man's throat open.

Noct slid down against the alley wall, grasping at his throat. Ghost watched the man choke and slowly die. He felt sad. It was the first kill in a long time where he'd felt something other than numb. So much history lost right there. So many answers wasted.

And now the mission was getting messy again. But the guards were out of the way. Only Claudio remained.

6,956 / 10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

With Noct not returning, the thrumming of Claudio's fingers against the table almost drowned out the sounds of pleasant jazz that wafted through the upper echelons of the party. His anxiousness was palpable and the idea that Ghost could be anywhere made him want to vomit. The women he was with were beginning to notice his shift, too. They'd been aware there was a problem. They'd been freaked out.

But also, they were women of the night. And ones that knew they weren't involved in whatever it was that Clay had found himself in the midst of. They could leave at any point, make money elsewhere, and they would never give Clay Adiore a second thought.

There was no conversation being had at the table anymore. Some could be heard from nearby partygoers. Chatting about business deals and fishing trips and galactic travel destinations. The quieter parts of life that we often forget exist while we're running the rat race. The rich never had to forget these things. Clay for the first time in a very long time, had been cracked back into reality.

Both his guards were nowhere to be found. One of the most dangerous kids he'd ever hired threatened his life. Everything was collapsing in some fantastic display of cosmic, karmic retribution. Clay believed in it in this moment. He believed in Gods. He believed in fate. And definitely karma.

He'd never admit it, but Clay had always felt like that. He'd known one day the devil in him would face the sword. He'd pushed away so much empathy that blurred his vision. Others had done the same, but they never had their comeuppance. Or so Clay thought.

The women began to stand up. The time that Clay had paid for reached its close. He hardly noticed.

All he could focus on was every shadow, every person he didn't recognize immediately, every slight shift in temperature or breeze of air.

Anything and everything that may betray Ghosts position and give him a fighting chance for survival.

7293/10000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

"Fuck."

The pain of his shredded arm now ripped through his forearm. Adrenaline now waning, he took the moment of quiet to lean himself against the wall and take a few deep breaths. Ghost has no idea that his target is finally panicking as much as he'd been. Professional or not, there was no denying the nature of a heartbeat throbbing in your ears and an entire ache through your whole body. Ghost Orchid was beyond human. That was clear. It did not make him immortal.

That was something he envied about Lilith. And Ridley. Untouchable gods, they were. Kings and monsters alike. A level of power that he would never attain. Whatever these voices of void deities were, they seemed rather willing to help him. Yet it still paled in comparison to the absolute might of those he was now sworn to.

A rhythmic thumping of his fists against the alleyway wall to distract him from these thoughts and of the second corpse he'd made tonight. He was in too deep to be second guessing any of this. There had to be three corpses. There had to be. Or he'd be the fourth.

Going back inside was no longer an option. His disguise was pointless drenched in this much blood. Ghost sighed, his fist finally coming to a rest against the wall as his mundane song is replaced by wobbly resolve.

He was going to have to make a scene.

7,533/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

Tearing a piece of the white cloth button down he'd stolen, he wrapped his arm to stifle the bleeding. It had cut clean through bone which was going to be a major problem. It would affect his bow handling and all-around usefulness in these ending moments. He just had to count on the fact that he was marginally more talented and terrifying than Claudio. His former employer would no doubt be armed. The man had always carried a piece on him and when he realized that both his guards had vanished, he'd very quickly switch to a happy trigger finger. And now that stealth was factored out, his approach would have to be viper swift. Nothing fancy.

Ghost took a jog around the complex to get another gauge of the layout. The issue was that invisible upper area that Claudio was hiding in had no windows. He'd have been able to snipe him with ease had that been the case. Unsurprisingly, that had been taken into consideration. A short chuckle and a shake of his head at the thought. He wondered how many people in that building also deserved what Claudio would be getting tonight.

He didn't have any explosives either. While he would need to make a scene, another terrorist operation would put him at the top of Arcadia's wanted. It would be best if he could lower the heat from what he and Lilith had already done. Well, mostly Lilith.

Ghost looked all the way upward. Towards the eerie sky that loomed over him like a blanket of darkness. Up there somewhere, a draconic tyrant and a hypersexual monster patiently awaited his return. Also, the roof was up there. Where there may be access to the upper level. That was his best shot.

The assassin rounded the corner and headed towards one of the fire escapes. Almost done now. Claudio's sentencing was so close.

7,849/10,000

 

[Ghost Orchid]

The climb was a slog. With his injured arm, it made every task he'd gotten so used to being good at an absolute nightmare. Not to mention that the fire escape hadn't gone all the way to the roof. That reflected poorly on the overall safety of the building. Was this thing just aesthetic? There were no birds large enough nearby that could assist the rest of the way up. Everything just seemed to be deterring him from his task.

The voice in his head hadn't spoken in a long while. He wondered if that meant something, or if it just got bored of watching him fumble about. It was upsetting, since that boost of energy the creature had given him would be greatly appreciated in the moment.

Or...

He could tap into it himself. He wasn't sure if he was capable of it or not, but he remembered what it had felt like. What an awkward thing to have called for that level of strength, just a wall.

Ghost sat down and meditated at the top of the fire escape. He reached into his mind. That power he'd had on the ship had left something inside of him. A resonance with the void, a connection to it. He had been able to channel it into his combat for a long time now. It only made sense that his whole being could do the same.

He exhaled sharply as he dug, not quite sure what he's looking for. Just knowing that he's running out of time to catch his target.

8,108/10,000