Chapter 128

Chapter 128 Announcement

Hey gang! I do a lot of shout outs for other series but today I wanted to do one for you guys.

Thank you so much for your continued support and for enjoying this story as we continue to follow Sonya's journey! There's so much more to come! I wanted to let you guys know that this current volume, Fog of War, is completed on Patreon and we are well on our way to 200 chapters within the next few weeks. Isn't that crazy? We are also well on our way to the official published release of Volume 1: Deus Ex Machina. Editing is going well and we're about done making decisions concerning the audiobook with Podium. It's coming!!!

If you enjoy the story, please consider joining the patreon and the discord. We have lots of channels and I try to be on there as much as I can.

I want to also let you guys know that I will be taking a week break next week November 11 - 15 to catch my breath a little and catch up on my backlog.

Thank you guys so much! We've got more to come!

- DerelictPresence aka TheBroker



Sonya stepped out of her office, the metallic door hissing shut behind her as she traipsed over the cushy floor of her dojo. She’d finished reading over the write up that Blackrazor had sent her, it was shorter than she had hoped, but that was to be expected. Liberty may have a very public presence but actual detail was hard to come by. She was apparently wearing new armor recently and had been equipping her men well. She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, I should have told Blackrazor to push for one of his men to get into Liberty’s headquarters yesterday, she thought and then scratched at her head, No, if it could have been done by now it would have. Ah, how is she vetting people? She grumbled before letting out a groan and turning left towards one of the other doors leading out of her dojo.

The doors opened with a hiss and she smirked, Kind of a shame those punks didn’t make it in here before I caught them. Poor Ollie, he would have been so excited, She chuckled inwardly.

She stepped into the trophy hall, yawning a little. She’d had to find a place to put the rewards from the various dungeons that she and her guild had managed to clear. Some of them weren’t items that were of any use to her people, yet, so she wanted them safe. She passed by the odd doll from the goblin dungeon and the mace, the real one, not the one that was on display at the ASTA Guild Headquarters. She reached over and touched the glass around it, “Hey Nick,” She said with a smile, “Miss you buddy,” She rapped her knuckles on the glass before walking towards the next case, no label was on it, just like the others.

She turned to the glass and stared at it for a moment, the bone knife inside gleamed oddly in the artificial light above her. It brought back memories, she watched Feng Hyunh fall to her death all over again and exhaled as a call came in. She glanced at her HUD, Mephisto? This should be good.

<”Hey girl hey!”> She answered with a cheeky grin.

<”Got somethin’ for ya, ma’am,”> Mephisto chirped back at her, a small chuckle in his voice, <”I’m with the Spice King, he wants a word,”>

She pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, <”Oho, business call? Alright, put me on,”> She cleared her throat as she activated the voice filter for the call. She heard the phone on the other end shift to speaker mode and she relaxed. A part of her wanted to pull the mask on, but, maybe this time she could do it herself. <”Spice King! What a pleasant surprise,”> She said, leaning against the case that held the Vegas knife, <”What can I do for you?”>

–

The silence was a balm, like a cool towel on the neck during a heat wave. It wasn’t a complete silence, he could hear his own faint breathing, the sounds of the shifting in the walls, the faint adjustments to the ventilation to push air into the room. Those little sounds didn’t bother him, it was like a symphony atop the blessed silence that soothed his soul even more. He rested his head against the hard wall behind him and closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his face. He savored it, the deafening silence that would not last forever.

This is nice, I should kill the other inmates more often.

He let out a pleasant sigh as the mild thought passed through him. He tapped his fingers against his thumbs, powerful, dense, taught muscle in his lithe arms tensed and flexed. He wanted to doze off, take a nap, he wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been in this room. Not that he cared. Every second was a treasure. If only there was a way to make it permanent. After all, all good things came to an end. He opened his eyes, a blue the color of glacial ice; almost white, glowed from his irises. The sole illumination in the room from his eyes was bright enough to reflect off the heavy metal door in front of him.

The door shuddered and a panel slid on it. A pair of human eyes stared at him through the opening, they met his and quickly averted.

“Graff.” The guard grunted. “Time’s up.”

Graff clicked his tongue. He rolled his neck and looked away from the door, “How many inmates do I need to kill to stay?” He asked.

“Kill too many and they’ll put you in a hospital,” The guard chuckled, “Then you’ll have to do therapy and talk about your feelings.”

Graff’s nose wrinkled with disgust and he stared at the wall a bit longer. He rose slowly to his feet and walked over to the door, resting his head against it, “Having trouble with a new kid?” He asked, tilting his head and slowly sliding his head down the metal till he was eye level with the guard. His gaze bored into the guard’s, sweat immediately beading on the man’s forehead. His smile curled up just a little bit, “Well? Fill me in,” Graff mumbled, the volume of his voice never changing.

Graff pushed past him, “Keep my cell in solitary open.”

–

Graff stalked past the other inmates who took a moment to recognize him. Some of them were pulled out of the way by their friends and allies, whispers of warning spreading through the crowd. Everyone took note of his bare wrists, everyone knew, he didn’t care. All he cared about was the son-of-a-bitch arrogant enough to call himself an elementalist. He couldn’t care less if the guy was trying to make himself a big man on campus. The dick-measuring contest was beneath Graff. He didn’t care if the guy wanted to cause a little trouble. He was even willing to overlook this idiot trying to break the schedule.

“A wind user calling themselves an elementalist,” He scoffed as an inmate raced to the doors and pushed one open for him to step through. He felt the sun against his skin for the first time in a long time and his flat expression turned into a frown, “Let’s get this over with.”

He stepped out and spotted a pair of familiar faces sitting at a table close to the doors and far away from the majority of the inmates. He turned in that direction, walking over with his hands in his pockets and stopped behind an enormous man who was hunched forward. “Frankie,” Graff rumbled, reaching out and flicking the big man in the back.

The big man jolted and sat up straight, turning around and pulling his fist back as if ready to flatten Graff. He blinked when he saw him and broke into a smile, “It’s Graff! Hey!” He laughed and turned on his seat, planting his feet. He was at least twice Graff’s size. The ability he’d awakened in a contract with Ishtar was some sort of growth related power or something. Graff really wasn’t sure, but it’d made him crazy strong.

“Hear we got a new guy,” Graff said, “They brought me out to say hello.”

Frankie frowned and glanced to his right towards a large gathering of men on the other side of the enrichment field. Graff glanced that way and spotted a black-haired guy sitting on a table. He was beefy but not overly so from what Graff could see. He shrugged and looked back at Frankie, before glancing around, “Where’s Wicker?” He asked.

Frankie shifted on his feet and stepped to the right, revealing another inmate who was sitting at the table, hiding behind the bigger Frankie with his hands over his head. Graff narrowed his eyes and walked over, grabbing the guy by the scruff of his shirt and pulling his head out from under his hands. The kid’s face was a fucking mess. Black eye, cuts, scars, and from the look of it his jaw was all messed up. Graff narrowed his eyes, “Wick. The fuck happened to your face?”

Wicker looked away sullenly, “Nuffin.”

Graff lifted him to his feet, spun him around and grabbed him by the shirt, “I asked you a question, Wick,” Graff growled, “The fuck happened to your face?” Wick turned his eyes slowly to look at Graff then shot his gaze towards the upstart standing on the table. Graff stood up a bit straighter and raised an eyebrow, “Tried to stop him from rallying for a riot?” Graff asked. The kid shrugged and Graff dropped him back on his seat. He licked his lips and turned towards the guy in the distance. A massive hand landed on his shoulder and he glanced at it, frowning. “What?”

“Charon’s got a bounty on high-tier powers, living is worth more,” Frankie said quickly. “Ishtar askin’ for ‘em specifically. Just heard about it today.”

Graff narrowed his eyes, “She doesn’t give me orders,” he growled and pulled his shoulder away, “Besides, it sounds like Charon will pay for corpses too.”

He stalked across the field, the sun was starting to annoy him more and more. His temper rising as he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared flatly at the man who was now fully standing on the table. He was shouting something that Graff had no patience to even listen to. He grumbled and made his way forward, stopping in front of the crew of men that were all looking up at their new ringleader. One of them glanced back and went wide-eyed. He quickly shook the guy next to him and soon everyone was staring at Graff, the last to take notice was the ringleader himself.

“You Gale Force?” He called.

A whip of wind slapped against his skin. He glanced down at his chest and then up at the guy who had already turned away. The others were still staring at him and one reached up to grab Gale Force’s attention. The man frowned and looked back at Graff, his expression souring a bit. “Get lost,” Gale Force said, “I’m busy.”

“Gale, that’s Graff,” One of them hissed quickly.

Gale raised an eyebrow and grinned, hopping off the table and pushing through his men. He spread his arms out, “Well if it isn’t the so-called ‘monster’ Graff! You’re shorter than I expected. I half figured you’d be as big as that punk-ass Frankie, given how much everyone sucks your-”

“Hey,” Graff said and strode forward, fixing the guy with a stare.

“I was talking you-” Gale bit out, a gust of wind pressing against Graff. Graff just walked through it, unblinking, his ice-blue eyes glowing a little brighter as he drew nearer and nearer to the man. Gale concentrated and pushed harder, several of the men around him getting pushed away by the wind that was now bearing down on Graff. Graff just kept walking until he was standing over Gale.

Graff’s eyes were wide, his pupils small, his expression stony, he tilted his head, “Here’s what’s about to happen,” He bit out, “I’m going to turn every other cell in your lungs into a razor sharp diamond. You’re going to get to take one last breath. Then you’re going to die,” He said and his arm whipped out without another word. His fingers pressed against the man’s chest and he pushed him back a full step. The man held his ground, glaring at Graff before he took a breath and his eyes went wide, blood poured from his mouth in a gout and he dropped like a heavy sack. Graff swept his gaze over the others, not even looking at the fresh corpse, “The break happens when the call goes out, no sooner,” He growled. “Don’t bother me with this bullshit again or I’ll kill everyone involved.”

He turned away and walked towards the exit, the guards already coming out. The wanna-be warden stopping in front of him, pale-faced. Graff smirked at the guy, “Apparently Charon’s paying for high-tier corpses,” He murmured, “Get your money’s worth,” He said and stalked past, holding his wrists out and waiting to be cuffed before getting dragged back off to Solitary. He tilted his head and glanced over at Frankie and Wick who were staring at him surprised. He grinned at them and looked up at the sky, “Lookin’ forward to my next nap, I have a feeling my next stint in solitary won’t nearly be as long.”