Chapter Eighty-Five – Equivalent Exchange – Part Three

Statistical analysis of the WHA Heroes leveling procedures combined with knowledge from off-worlders indicates that Ajax should reach level sixty before the end of next year. There is a rumor that the UWO has somehow procured a new hero. One of considerable ability. If we cannot recruit the new alleged hero, to ensure that no complications arise, then we suggest that Ajax receive another batch of… volunteers. On another note, the contingency plan is moving along smoothly.

-Classified Correspondence between the World Supporter Association and the World Hunter Association-

The snow picked up on the drive to my parents' old place, Cortez's mom made it clear not to talk about anything with the other suits present. I guess you never can be too careful. As I step onto the porch with Cortez's hand in mine, the memories of my childhood play through my mind. Doubly so when I pass a few sets of deer antlers on the wall inside. It still smells the same. Every year that I can, I come back here on the off time. Tending it in their honor. It's all I have left of them. I'm lucky in that way. Tran never got to keep a place to remember his family, the city he grew up in doesn't exist anymore. There are a lot of people who have a similar story. It's just how things are since the Sarlenac games started.

Today is a good day though. One where happy memories will stem from. After all, it's not everyday that you come back to life. As I walk toward the fireplace, I see a familiar face, my heart sinks a little seeing she's in a wheelchair.

"Novak," Fisban nods, giving me a warm smile, then seeing my eyes looking at the chair, "Don't look at me like that, I can still kick your ass."

She smiles a little bit, extending her hand outwards to shake mine. I move past it and hug her instead. As I do, I hear Sera's voice in my head.

Aww, one of your toys is broken. I could fix her… for a price.

Sera stalks around Fisban's chair slowly, deliberately, each step measured with a purpose that I know will fuck me somehow. I haven't told everyone about her yet, so I just ignore the remark. I'll try to fix Fisban first, and if I can't, then I'll worry about bartering with a crazy goddess. Wonder if there's an off switch for the connection. Guess I could ask Sage in a bit… or Terra, that would be nice if I got her as well. She owes me some stuff after all. Just have to wait for Sera to get bored and leave. I tried calling for Sage earlier but no response, either he's busy being trolled by Mythren still, or this Runic Paladin connection limits my ability to talk with Sage.

I pull away from the hug with Fisban, "How are you?"

"You mean besides being stuck in this damn thing? Peachy."

Knowing her, this is probably hell. I don't want to get her hopes up, but maybe with the enhanced triage, I might be able to see if there is something wrong, something that I didn't see before. The skill read out for it is… interesting.

[ Skill: Abyssal Triage ]

[ Usage: Allows the user to Error. ]

[ Effect: Slows time in the user's perception. Grants unique boon to user's vision. ]

[ Duration: Until canceled. ]

[ Activation: Intention or Incantation. ]

[ Incantation: Verily I say, open my eyes to the cosmos and show me its truths. ]

[ Cost: Mana. ]

[ Unique Passive: Evolution. ]

If I had to guess that should mean that whatever it will do is going to be broken. When I tried to use it earlier, I got a strange notification that I've never seen before.

[ Unable to use Abyssal Triage while Evolving ]

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Fingers crossed it can help Fisban in some way. I'm curious to see what these truths are.

"Alright, essential personnel only," Cortez's mom says, pointing for people to wait on the porch.

"But like, I'm super essential," Tran protests.

Fisban gives him some of her professional side eye before he backs down, leaving with everyone besides Fisban, Greymore, Cortez and her mom.

"Cleopatra, that includes…"

"No, I'll stay, mom."

Her mom's jaw flexes for a moment.

"Okay… first thing is first, give us the debrief of what happened."

I take a deep breath, looking down at the bunched up rug on the floor, a bear pelt my dad brought back from Alaska.

"I have conditions if I'm going to work with you."

"Conditions?" her eyebrow twitches in the same way Cortez's does. Guess she got that from her.

"First off, who are you?"

She looks at Cortez, as though she was supposed to tell me, Cortez just shrugs, giving a coy smile.

"I am Senator Veronica Alvaria," she says, straightening herself.

"Of what district?"

"Seven."

"Okay, well, Senator Alvaria, I'd like to negotiate my team, and my resource allocation."

She long blinks, almost surprised, tilting her head to the side, "You want to negotiate with a Senator?"

I laugh, a good hearty check your ego at the door laugh, "Ma'am, no offense, but I've just spent a long time negotiating with deities and entities that are older than Stonehenge, so yeah, I want to negotiate with you."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I'll hit up the World Hunter's Association and see if they want a seventh hero."

Silence hits the air for a few moments.

"It wouldn't hurt to hear him out, ma'am," Greymore says, giving me a reassuring nod, like he's going to bat for me.

"My superiors would never allow that," Alvaria says bluntly.

"Meaning?"

"They are not going to let the WHA acquire any more power."

A veiled threat, off to a great start. Cortez gives her mom the meanest glare I've ever seen cross her face. Wonder what the history is with them.

"Well, if you negotiate, we don't need to cross that proverbial bridge, mother," Cortez seethes.

Definitely sensing a rift between them.

"What do you want?" Alveria asks, rubbing her temples.

"A hand selected team of my choosing," I lean back, putting my feet on the table, "Enough resources to make the Pope blush, a private jet with pilots on standby, a personal chef for my team, a rune specialist, an assistant, a smith class, a private contractor for a special build, a base of operations in the Mediterranean and…"

"For fuck's sake," Alveria sighs, "You want a cherry on top of that bullshit sundae?"

My eyes narrow, my goal is clear, I don't want to make her an enemy, but I don't want to be working with hand me downs and people I don't trust. Some of my demands aren't needed, but they give room for whoever she needs permission from to remove so they feel like they won something back.

"I wasn't finished."

Alveria closes her eyes and raises her eyebrows, like she's fighting a temper tantrum, "Please continue."

"I want Fisban to be my handler, and…"

"She can't be."

"Why?"

"She's not fit for duty."

Fisban's eyes lower, "She's not wrong."

"It'll be Fisban, next I want Greymore as my military liaison. I'm not budging on either."

She turns holding a hand out at Greymore.

"What?"

She tilts her head at him, "You know what."

He grumbles as he reaches into his jacket and produces a small flask of whiskey. She waits for him to put it in her hand begrudgingly.

"Greymore is fine," Alveria says, giving him an appraising eye, "So long as he stops drinking during duty hours. Andrea is not ready for the field yet. Until she is, I will assign Troller to be your handler."

"Who's Troller?"

Fisban's eyes roll at the name. Cortez leans in and whispers, "Her rival."

Ah well, that'll be fun.

"Alright, I agree, but on the condition that if she becomes field ready, Troller automatically becomes her subordinate."

Alvaria sighs and gives a dismissive 'whatever' wave of her hand.

"Anything else?"

"I need an industrial air compressor, not some shitty one, I'm talking a big boy."

She squints at me, "Why?"

"Because… reasons."

"Okay…"

"I also want weapons, munitions, and vehicles."

"Those are standard issue."

"No, I don't want the standard issue ones. I want artillery and other stuff that goes boom, oh and a couple of nukes."

She laughs, like it was supposed to be a joke… it isn't.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah."

"They're not just going to give you nukes. Those don't exactly grow on trees young man."

"I'm sure the United World Order still has a tidy stockpile. A couple going missing won't bother anyone."

"I don't think you get the gravity of what you're asking. Even if we had the star hero of the WHA Ajax defect and join the UWO, we wouldn't give them nukes. It just isn't done."

"Right, because he's just Ajax."

Cortez gives me a smirk, she's enjoying this exchange.

"How many of the WHA heroes can say they've killed a god, ma'am," Greymore adds.

Alveria shakes her head, pulling out the bottle that Greymore gave her and taking a long double gulp, she doesn't even flinch.

"And a Wyvern," Cortez adds with a smile.

"Don't forget about the Emperor Dragonfly," Fisban says.

"Andrea, not you too."

Fisban shrugs, "Sorry ma'am, but he has a point."

Alveria takes another swig before saying, "What else do you want?"

***

"Absolutely not," Alveria slurs, halfway deep in Greymore's flask, "Of all the things you asked, that is by far," she hiccups, "The most ridiculous ask."

"Out of everything, you're hung up on me wanting Tran to be on my team?" I ask, squinting at her.

"He's a liability, not to mention," she hiccups again, "He's a fucking moron."

Fisban nods in agreement, taking a swig from Greymore's flask, leaving him looking a little disgruntled.

"Look, I'm not arguing that Tran is the brightest bulb, nor the sharpest tool in the shed, I'm not even arguing that he's reliable most of the time."

Cortez tilts her head at me, "Babe, what are you arguing then?"

"He has… unconventional ideas, ones that are outside the box."

"Such as?" Fisban asks.

"It was his idea to have Abyss eat the armory. If he hadn't said it, I'm not sure things would have played out the way they did. Besides that, I trust him. That should be enough for you."

"Tran came up with that?" Greymore asks, giving me a discerning look, trying to fire up his bullshit detector.

"Yes, sir, he did."

"Fucking hell," Greymore breathes out, leaning back against the old sofa, crossing his arms, "Might be worth keeping him around, ma'am."

Alveria tips the flask vertical and finishes it, letting out a very, very loud sigh, "I'm going to regret this."

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