What has being King ever gotten me?

That’s not an average security guard.

Lev first realised it when he dodged Arc’s knife stab. It came so fast, it would’ve given Poseidon a run for his money. It wasn’t dumb luck either that he moved the way he did. He saw the attack, and he positioned himself so the blade would come only within a hair’s breadth. Calculated. Trained. Dangerous.

Arc slashed again, only to be met with the same result. Yet, without hesitation, she went for the same move a third time. The guard, lulled into false comfort, dodged the same way again. This time, the attack was the same, but he realised too late that the weapon was different. Arc had lengthened the blade with a crescent of ice, and it splattered red as it sliced through his nose.

The guard didn’t spare a thought to his injury; not even a groan of pain. He kept his eyes on his opponent and both hands ready.

The two of them had sprawled into the open office. Employees screamed and scrambled out of their desks, flooding around the duo and towards the fire exit. Neither seemed to react to the panic around them.

“Quill,” said Lev. “We’ve got trouble. Arc’s in a fight with the security guard. People know we’re here.”

“Things can never be easy, can they? Do the cops know yet?”

“Nothing on the police channels,” Chase answered. “How badly is our cover busted?”

Lev glanced around. The last of the crowd were shoving their way into the stairwell. He kept a tight grip on the CIO. “Whole floor knows.”

“For fuck’s sake, lion, can’t you do your job right?”

“If you were faster taking over the cameras, maybe you could’ve warned us!”

“Well, ain’t that swell, why don’t you try overriding a Zaytsev-level security system!”

“That’s enough!” MP scolded, the same way a father would his children. “We’re professionals. Act like it.”

There was a beeping across the coms. “Alright,” said Chase. “Now the cops know.”

“I thought you shut down the alarms,” said Lev.

“The building alarms. The workers still have phones, don’t they?”

“How long until the pigs swarm us?” asked Quill.

“Fuck, I don’t know? Ten? Fifteen?”

“Hours?”

“Minutes, dumbass. Why would it be hours?”

Several more gunshots rang out. Arc flipped along the floor, flying, and each bullet stuck harmlessly into the ground. In mid-air, she tossed her knife up and as she landed, caught it by the blade. Her fingers snapped, and the knife spun out, crashing into the guard’s pistol. The force didn’t just knock it from his hand, it split the muzzle in two.

Arc crossed the distance between them before the gun could hit the floor. She had a second knife ready and swung it at the man’s neck. He blocked it with his own, and blade screeched against blade. Lev expected the weapon to break; after all, it was just metal. Yet, they were stuck in a deadlock.

“Cerafex,” Lev realised. “The guard is packing Cerafex!”

“What kind of fucking security guard carries Cerafex?” Chase shouted. “And what kind of corpos need guards with that sort of gear?”

“The ones with big skeletons in their closets,” said Quill. “It means we’re knocking up the right tree.”

Lev pointed his gun at the CIO, standing in the server room. “Don’t step out. Don’t force me to shoot you.”

Then, he reached into the duffle bag slung over his shoulder, and pulled something out. The yellow streaks pulsated as he slotted it on, adjusting to the width of his arm. He reached out, middle finger curled taunt into his thumb, and Honeybadger roared to life.

“Arc!”

She understood immediately and ducked.

The gauntlet quaked as he released his finger flick. The recoil felt like it shattered his finger, but it was nothing compared to the guard. A bolt of wind thundered out of the gauntlet and ripped across the room, howling. He couldn’t remember if the guard had blocked it; it made no difference. Not even Cerafex could dampen the blow, and the pressurised air slammed the man into the wall, cracking it behind him.

As soon as he fell, Lev dashed over to Arc. She lifted her shirt and pressed her fingers on the entry wound. She clenched her teeth. A silver gleam came over the blood, freezing the hole shut.

“Show me the back,” said Lev.

She turned around. Her back was sticky with crimson, but there was no exit wound.

“Shit. The bullet’s still inside.”

She motioned with her hands. We’ll get it out later.

“Is Arc okay?” asked Quill.

“Yeah, she’s stopped the bleeding, but Vein will have to get the lead out of her.”

“No problem. Get back to the server room and make sure you get the data. Vein and I are having a bit of trouble on our end.”

❖

Where Julian Carter’s office looked like a college senior's dorm room, the CEO’s office was what Quill expected from a true corpo. The sun-soaked room practically glimmered, from its grey tiled floor to its golden chandelier, designed like concentric circles, so delicately interwoven, he couldn’t imagine the time it’d have taken, even with machinery.

“I’m actually considering the corpo life now,” said Quill. “What has being King ever gotten me?”

Vein stood behind the desk, struggling to wrench the painting off the wall. “A clean conscience, I would assume.”

“You forget that we’re running this gig so we can sling more drugs? The Crowns would be out of business if tomorrow, the city decided it didn’t want to shoot, OD, or fuck itself to death.”

“So would the corpos. At least we’re honest about it.”

“Lovely discussion,” Chase’s voice came through. “Except I’d rather you guys didn’t have it in the middle of a fucking heist. What are we doing about the cops?”

Quill rested on the blunt end of his mop. “Where’s the nearest police station?”

“By the witch’s.”

“Alright. Is the building on 58th Street still empty?”

“Not a soul in the blast radius.”

“Blow the bomb we set there,” said the King. “That’ll buy us a little more time.”

Vein put the painting down as delicately as he could. Behind it was a large silver vault, patterned with thin streaks of crimson. The streaks had a gentle glow, and appeared to pulsate when he stared at them.

Quill’s eyes widened. “Is that a Cerafex vault?”

“Likely only the outermost layer.” Vein rested a hand on the vault’s dial. “Analogue, too. It appears Mr. Schafer is a very traditional man.”

“Can you crack it?”

“The de-coder program Chase made won’t work on cogs and bolts. Pity; he spent so much time on it.”

“Can you crack it, Vein?”

“And since it’s also Cerafex, your weapon cannot simply pierce it.”

“Vein.”

He pressed his ear to the vault. “Five minutes.”

Quill scoffed. “You want a cup of tea with that, too?”

“Yes, please.”

“I was joking.”

“There’s a kettle across the room. Some lapsang would be greatly appreciated.”

“Lapsang? How would you even know there is lapsang?”

Vein turned the dial. “I checked.”

Quill gave up, sighing. He made the long trek over to the kettle and put it on. As he waited for it to boil, he snuck into his pocket and fished out his cigarette paper. He filled it up, and began to roll when–

“Quill!” Chase interrupted. A newfound panic coloured his voice.

“Great. What’s up?”

There was clacking of the keyboard. “Someone’s moving up the elevator. It’s coming to your floor!”

“Who is it? More guards?”

“I don’t know, they knocked out the cameras before I could get a good look.”

Quill dropped his blunt and crushed it underfoot. He sighed. “This is why I smoke right before the job. Vein, keep working on the vault.”

He walked past the janitor trolley, took out the case hidden underneath, and left the room. From there, it was a straight corridor to the elevator. The numbers above ticked up, one digit at a time.

Fifty-four. Fifty-five.

“How many guards were in the building when we came in?” asked Quill.

Silence.

Fifty-six.

“Chase?”

Fifty-seven. There was a sharp ding.

Chase’s voice finally came through. It was sticky with static. Someone was firing a gun in the background. “Quill…out! Get…out! Ambush!”

The doors opened. Quill leapt back. He thrashed open his case like cracking a whip, and it burst apart. The rod within stretched out until it was the length of a polearm. Flesh blossomed and fitted together, as smooth as refined machinery. At last, an arched blade sprouted from the polearm’s tip. Quill readied the scythe towards the man in the elevator.

“Hello, fox,” said Zek.