On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

Side One Hundred And Seventy-Eight – Zozibini, Chosen Of Anansi / Aliyah James, Black Wolf Company PMC

“Fuck. Are you sure about this, Zozibini?” Nkosi was pacing restlessly, the many beads of precious metals, gems and ivory that were a tribute to his tribal heritage he was so proud of, clinking incessantly, as if to mirror his tense mood. “Fuck!” he cursed again, with greater feeling. “I hate that rhino pussy Dino, and I’ve no love for foreign vultures, picking over African lands like it was a pissing zebra carcass…”

“I know that well.” Zozibini agreed, her charming smile bright. “Africa is for Africans, I hardly disagree.”

“…it seems a little cold, drawing those foreigners into your tale, though.” he finished, ignoring her words. “If he just heeds my warning and stays the fuck out of our lands, the Ancestral Land… he didn’t seem too bad a sort, not like that camel-fucker Dino. Besides…” Nkosi’s ferocious gaze fell upon her, and for a moment Zozibini felt a little dizzy and hot, mesmerised by the intensity.

“…you shouldn’t be careless with your life, woman. Leave taking risks to us men!” He pounded his bare chest, beads jingling, and she couldn’t help but smile a little. Running a hand through her hair, the rich black strands now mixed in with a large number of grey and white hairs that had lost their lustre, she giggled charmingly.

“I know you are still old-fashioned, great Nkosi, but this is the modern world. Women aren’t just for bearing children and doing the housework.” She pursed her lips, both amused and annoyed. “Half the world are women, if you are going to be the King you were always destined to be, you’ll have to learn that, lest your subjects revolt. After all, we women are like spiders, our bite can be tiny, but deadly.”

“Fuck, don’t I know it, woman?” Nkosi grunted. “I’m not so set in my ways, like some of the old rhino shits. But Qamata chose me to set things right, first here in South Africa, then across the whole great Continent! I am a man, and powerful! It hardly sits right with me, letting you risk your life when I could do it with my own hands, my own spear.” He gestured to the ancient-looking red spear, decorated with beads and gems, as well as feathers and ivory carvings. It seemed out of place in the modern streets of Cape Town, an anachronism, yet the way Nkosi held it showed it was no mere prop, but a deadly weapon.

“I am glad you are so eager to fight, great Nkosi. But… I too was called on by a God. Wise, cunning Anansi has given me gifts suitable to my tastes. I’ve always been a gambler…” Her smile was as beautiful as it was wicked. “But power such as I was given comes at a price. Don’t the old stories tell of that? I should hardly need to lecture you again. After all, you dream of past glories.”

“Fuck. You’ll never get married with a sharp tongue like that, woman.” he grumbled, and Zozibini giggled charmingly again.

“Is that a proposal? But no, I won’t be tending your home and popping out sons and daughters until I’m old. I have a higher calling. And more self-respect.”

“Fuck, I feel lower than elephant shit, being rejected when I wasn’t even asking.” Nkosi spat bitter phlegm onto the pavement. “But you know what I mean. Your threads… if they snap, you’ll pay the price.”

“It is a price worth paying, if it comes down to it.” Zozibini shrugged. “But Anansi’s tales are fair, if one is clever enough to see where the strands lead. You are a participant, as am I. Dino and his crew, that little blonde girl, our guest from abroad, the Hero of Britain… poor foolish man of gold and his wife. They call him Midas, don’t they?”

“Fuck!” Nkosi spat again, and Zozibini pursed her lips. She could tolerate his swearing, it was practically ingrained in him, and wasn’t actually meant as insults a good portion of the time, but spitting was a disgusting habit.

“Yes, Midas, the man with the golden touch. But he’s touched a power he should best have left alone. And trying to bribe that hippo-fucking shit Dino is like trying to bribe a hyena with meat. It works until you run out, then the hunger turns to the hand that fed it. Qamata needs no aid, only the strong to wield God’s power!”

“I hardly disagree. The spider threads of Fate tell me that power is not for us. But it does make magnificent bait to lure in the participants in this spider tale. Imagine it as Nyame demanding that Anansi capture the four most dangerous creatures in the world to receive his stories. Only here, those four creatures are also seeking wisdom. These Seeds.” Zozibini narrowed her dark eyes thoughtfully.

“Then Dino is the fucking python in that story. Jaw big enough to swallow everything in his greed, and about as much morals as a fucking viper. Midas has his deadly sting, the touch of gold, so he would be Mmoboro, the hornet. And our foreign hero… is he a leopard?”

Zozibini shook her head. “No, he is actually the fairy.” As Nkosi laughed loud at that, Zozibini felt her invisible Fate strands tremble, and some of her silver hair darkened back to black. “Strange, but nobody is more suited to be Mmoatia the fairy than he. Besides, who but you could be the proud leopard, great Nkosi, the lion of Africa?”

“Then who is the Sky God Nyame in this story?” Nkosi asked, narrowing his eyes. “Your hair is darkening again. Has it begun?”

“It has.” Zozibini agreed. “Blood is split, those who do not understand the theme of the story perish, not even knowing why they die. And the more that are swallowed by the spider strands of Fate… the stronger the Fate is distributed to those who navigate through the tale to the conclusion and reap the spoils.” She shrugged, her bright crimson suit out of place in the dimly-lit night. “As for who is Nyame… perhaps Nyame is the spoils itself, the wisdom and stories.”

“You’re a cold, ruthless woman. I pity the one who marries you. Spiders often eat their mates, I’ve heard. Fuck, I wouldn’t put it past you!”

“How rude. I’m so misunderstood, despite arranging everything for your benefit. Though… Anansi’s threads are fair. Of course, fairness does not mean equality. Since I spun the web, I have the advantage, even if I had to pay a significant price up-front. But it does mean that those who pass through the tale without succumbing will be rewarded.”

“You most of all.” Nkosi snorted, and Zozibini touched her hair.

“Of course. She who pays the piper picks the tune. But even I am not exempt from the spider webs of Fate. So you are not wrong. I have risked a great deal to spin this tale.”

“I hate that colonial sayings shit.” Nkosi frowned at her idiom. “But what happens if something goes wrong? Much as I dislike him, if that so-called Hero dies here, it will cause problems for South Africa. I may despise the fools in charge, but… I love my country, my homeland, my people who remain true!”

“If he dies, what can anyone do about it?” Zozibini shrugged. “I actually do hope he survives, I have no great dislike for him, if anything, I admire his heroics. They are like the tales I was told as a child, of heroes, shamans, warriors and more. But the web would not take shape without him, as in this tale of Fate, his is also part of the prize. No, I hope he survives, and while it will reduce our gains from the web, we still benefit. And my conscience will be clear. But I do as I must, for you, great Nkosi. But should he be strangled by the fine, silken threads of destiny, then he was not the hero the world claims him to be. And just as we come and go as we please, the government, the police, even the army, fearing to provoke us… unless others like us are sent from abroad to extract retribution, stronger than you… what can they do?”

“There is that.” He grumbled. He was going to spit again, until her stern glance dissuaded him. Instead, he gripped his spear, waiting. Ahead of them, a very exclusive hotel was glittering with light, like an oasis in the darkness. “Fuck. I still feel bad though. By Qamata, dragging in young women, children and the elderly. Even if they are rich foreigners that have lived off exploiting others. Dino’s hyenas have no honour… I won’t be sad to finally be rid of them, strangled by your webs.”

“We are all simply participants in this story of greed and trickery. Just as you are responsible for your followers, Dino and Akio are responsible for theirs, as is Khumo and his wife. There can only be one lion ruling the pride, you aren’t wrong about that, great Nkosi. But not merely one male, as it were. Those who navigate the story will benefit. But now… my threads itch.” She ran a hand through her hair, more strands now a healthy black again, the minute crows-feet and lines under her eyes starting to fill out. “…it looks like some of the python’s spawn have come.”

Several dozen men, and a couple of women as well, emerged from the darkness of the night, heading towards the pool of radiance that the hotel was giving off. This was one of the most affluent parts of Cape Town, not like the shanties and slums that still plagued the supposedly wealthy city. The inequality enraged Nkosi, and made Zozibini rather sad, though she was a pragmatist. I would have to be, to wield the strangling spider threads of Fate so, weaving this tale of loss and triumph. But Anansi, while sometimes falling for his own schemes, and delighting in tricking those who are greedy or cheat others, respects an honest effort. One day I too surely will be strangled by my own webs, but… seemingly not this day.

“A nice night for a stroll, you dangling hippo balls!” Nkosi greeted the group loudly, spear leaning casually over his shoulder. “I doubt you have any good business over this side of Cape Town, you bunch of yapping hyenas, only following that rhino vomit Dino for scraps of meat and bones.”

“Nkosi… and beautiful Zozibini, I see.” the lead man said, and she recognised him, as one of the most loyal warriors under Dino. There were three others blessed by the Gods she knew of here too, and perhaps more she didn’t. The odds weren’t in their favour, but… she glanced at Nkosi, who was as calm as ever.

“Don’t interfere. You want the foreigners gone as much as we do! And don’t worry, we aren’t going to kill them.” The big, burly man chuckled darkly. “Just a little ransom, teach them that the world has changed. Money can’t be hoarded by those who don’t have power!”

“That’s right!” a second man cried. “Their gates, walls, guards and guns are meaningless compared to the power of the Gods! Those of us so blessed, and those who stand with us… we’ll be the new wealthy!”

“Is that so?” Nkosi shrugged non-commitally. “But should you really be wasting your fucking time out here, while your snake of a boss is fighting for his life?”

“Unlike your crew, our boss has the numbers!” the first man sneered. “Everything is under control. Now, step aside.”

“Under control? Fuck.” Nkosi did spit this time, aiming for the feet of the man who challenged him, forcing him to step back to avoid his boots being soiled, which angered him. “Empty-headed as the laugh of a hyena. How about this. Make me

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step aside!”

“You think your legend about fearing no guns is true?” the lead man scoffed. “Fine.” He gestured to his subordinates. “Amahle, Sbusiso, Anja… take a half dozen or so and handle the task. I should be enough to crush this moron who thinks he’s a lion!”

Another who doesn’t see the moral of this story, who thinks he spins the web, not that the web is spun around him. Zozibini’s face twitched, as two men and a woman peeled off from the group, leading eight armed men past them, towards the hotel behind them. Nkosi made no attempt to stop them, which made the leader of Dino’s reserve group sneer.

“I see. Very wise. I know dear beautiful Zozibini is no fighter. And so I should be enough to handle you, lion.” He then leered at her. “When I have beaten down your chief and he is begging and whimpering for mercy, you can soothe my boiling blood by grasping my mighty spear… with both hands.”

Her face twisted into an expression of distaste, though the smile still remained, Zozibini shook her head. “I fear two fingers would be enough. But the only spear you should worry about is great Nkosi’s…” The webs tremble. More blood is split. But the more the story gathers, the greater the gain…

“That’s right. Arrogant hippo shit!” Nkosi snorted. “By Qamata, let it rain blood!”

“Kill that idiot!” the man snapped, and one of his men raised a protest, saying that even for them, a firefight in such an affluent area was going too far, but he merely shouted for him to obey, only to stagger, as Nkosi’s spear flew at him like a missile. The man dodged, and it pierced through someone behind him, blasting a chunk out of his torso, before the gore-tipped spearhead penetrated a second man.

“Shit!” the man cursed, energy surging around him as he made to attack. Zozibini stepped back gracefully, the clinking of her heels on the pavement loud in the sudden silence. Then all hell broke loose, as Nkosi was upon his opponent, hands slashing, sparkling indigo energies shimmering on his hands held like blades.

“Shoot him! Damn the… fuck!” The man narrowly avoided decapitation by Nkosi’s sweeping hands, and he was slashed across the cheek, laid bare to the bone. From around the wound his flesh began to smoulder, brilliant light shining free.

“We come from the Sun, and we go back to the Sun!” Nkosi intoned, his slashing hands slicing, more wounds appearing on his opponent, the spreading light consuming his flesh. He didn’t even have time to use his own abilities, as Nkosi was too strong, too fast. Then storms of gunfire blasted out, the host of men opening fire, and Zozibini scuttled backwards, eager to avoid being struck by stray fire. That would be an inglorious end to this spider tale…

“Yes, shoot him, kill him… huh?” The wounded man, his blood steaming as it dripped from his injuries, found his joy short-lived, as the barrage of bullets struck Nkosi like rain, scattering some of his beads. But shells were deforming and bouncing free, drawing blood and leaving faint bruises that shone with a dull, indigo light. One round from a heavy pistol struck Nkosi in the forehead, and his head rocked a little, before he cricked his neck to both sides, grinning.

“No, even Dino…” the man began, only for Nkosi to be on him, grabbing him in a vice-like bearhug. With one twist of his arms, the man’s neck shattered, and with a great roar of triumph, the thugs behind not stopping their barrage, desperate now, even hitting their own comrade, who was now a corpse, Nkosi tossed the limp body aside, his gaze feral.

“I am the lion of Africa. I do not fear your fucking trash guns, hyenas!” With that he attacked, and his hands cleaved apart bodies like paper, blood scattering, only to boil away in brilliant light. He pulled free his spear from the corpses it had penetrated, and within less than thirty seconds, a dozen of the attackers were dead, the rest tossing their weapons and fleeing.

“Little rats…” Nkosi pointed, and two more tumbled, brilliant light bursting their heads. Then two more, and another couple, until they had fled from sight. Looking around at the carnage, Nkosi bent down, gathering his fallen beats, clicking his tongue, irritated, heedless of the new bruises and faint scars on his chest.

“What a fool, thinking he alone was a match for you.” Zozibini shook her head, more of her hair darkening back to black. “Though all four of them together would have stood little chance. But not no chance. Fate may be fickle, but it is fair.”

“Enough of the lectures.” Obviously, they had drawn notice. While the wealthy who lived in this part of Cape Town knew better than to stick their noses in where they didn’t belong, obviously what would seem like open gang warfare to them would be reported. “This is an annoyance. Dino won’t let this slide. Our brittle truce has gone to shit. If he survives your little game…”

“Then it will be open war between us.” Zozibini agreed. “But I think it goes poorly for him.” She glanced at the hotel, her eyes narrowing. “This is a risky move as well. Do we stay and try and deal with them when they come out?”

Nkosi frowned. “Fuck. No, while we will have to account for this slaughter, I’d rather do it at our leisure. Let the police and army clean this mess up. If our hero…” he grumbled the word sarcastically. “…is worthy of the name, he needs to learn how to annihilate his enemies. Because some rhino-fucking cowards will always go for the weakest of the pack…” Spitting again, this time Zozibini didn’t mind it.

I would spit myself. I take no pleasure in putting innocents in danger, but… the threads ensnare who they will. Besides… She glanced at the hotel, her keen ears picking up cries, screams and gunfire, even from this distance. There were also the howling of police sirens and the rumbling of heavy vehicles coming closer. …they do have some guards. Perhaps they will be enough…

 

***

“Fucking great.” Aliyah muttered to her brother. “I just knew some shit was going to go south. In fact, does anywhere our dear boss goes not turn into a shitstorm of epic proportions?”

“I don’t think it’s fair to blame him all the time.” Trey muttered, checking his hidden weapons.

“Stop thinking with your dick, Trey. He ain’t going to go for you, he doesn’t swing that way.” Aliyah spat back, glancing over at the two guards that the old man Kira had brought with him. They seemed calm and confident, but Aliyah knew better. Shit, even the little girl play-pretend bodyguard is a better prospect for competence.

Despite the fact she had obviously never been in a real fight, the girl that was called by the stupid nickname Katana was going through calming breathing exercises, checking her own weapons, while keeping an eye on the windows and door. At least she’s taking the correct first steps…

As the girl Mayumi, who was dressed in a modest nightgown and long dressing gown, was speaking into the phone, arguing, Trey frowned. “You hear that, sis? Shouting, screaming. Sounds like gunfire outside too. I think we’re up…”

“Here.” Mayumi handed Aliyah the phone. “Hinata wants to talk.”

“The situation’s bad!” Hinata said without any preamble. “We have it on good authority there are Chosen headed your way to kidnap you all. I don’t know numbers or strengths, but…”

“Got it. We’re ready. Not sure what good our two Chosen here will do…” Aliyah sneered, unimpressed. “But we’ll do what we can. Don’t worry. Your friend may be an annoying, arrogant little baby…” Mayumi squawked angrily at that. “…but we’re Black Wolf Company. We hate letting innocent women and kids get caught up in shit like this. Now…”

“Down!” Trey called, grabbing old man Kira and turning his body, while Aliyah grabbed Mayumi and her bodyguard, who cried out in protest. As they fell to the ground the door burst open, and the phone slipped from Aliyah’s grasp, slipping onto the carpet.

“Nice.” A woman said in cold, heavily accented English. “Those hotel doors aren’t easy to break.”

“Nothing withstands Ogun’s iron, Anja!” The man who had punched through the door grinned, though it was an unusual spectacle, as his body and face were covered with the sheen of metal, his fists like heavy iron clubs. “You should know that.”

The woman, Anja, Aliyah guessed, snorted, her lightly tanned face plain and cold. “Brute force is all very well, I prefer subtlety and coercion. Anyway, Dino wants them, so…”

This is bad. There’s eight armed bastards, and three who are probably like our paper tigers here. Outnumbered bad… and guns might be more dangerous to us than our wannabe Iron Man here, none of us are bulletproof… mind racing, knowing Trey would be on her wavelength, Aliyah calculated her options.

“How dare you! Don’t you know who we are?” one of the bodyguards shouted, in Japanese. That was useless, as the woman Anja merely shrugged, turning to her companions.

“Anyone speak that foreign gibberish? No? Didn’t think so. Doesn’t matter…”

“I speak English.” The second bodyguard stepped forwards. “But…” His arrogance seemed to be diminishing fast, seeing the men with guns. “…this is Ichijou Kira, he’s a very important man. It’s not going to be worth the trouble for any money you can get from this, and if you kill him, the Japanese will hunt you to the ends of the…”

“Shut up!” The third intruder, a smaller, pale-skinned man with narrow eyes and a dusky orange head of hair, looking of more European descent, cut in. “You think we’re scared of foreign countries? Here we rule. But… being in change takes a lot of money, so…” he gestured, and guns were pointed at the guards.

It’s now or never. Aliyah rolled a small spherical object from the hem of her tank top. She couldn’t move her hands, that would draw attention, but as it fell from her body downwards, it went largely unnoticed. Trey was also prepping, and as the man finished his warnings, telling everyone to surrender, or face the consequences, Aliyah made her move, and not a moment too soon. Kicking the glass sphere, she squeezed shut her eyes. A brilliant flash of light filled the room, the light element inside cooking off, making an effective flash grenade without any risk of harm in enclosed spaces.

“What the…” Anja squawked indignantly, and the others were cursing. Aliyah surged forwards, and from memory she darted past the Chosen and attacked the armed mob on the right, trusting Trey to take the left. A sizzling burst of jade wind pierced the light, and guns were carved apart, metal and plastic scattering. There was blood too, Trey hardly being an expert using these hidden weapons, but Aliyah had no pity for them.

Coming here to fuck with us, got to expect to get taught a lesson. Her knee struck the crotch of one man, and she pulled loose a pair of fine wires, also charged with wind element. Using them as whips, screams and cries echoed as she sliced apart the weapons her enemies held. One man toppled to the floor, throat gashed open, but Aliyah wasn’t soft-hearted enough to care about that. If he dies, it just means he wasn’t lucky. I’m not Luciana. If she was here she’d have a much easier time. Earth element is largely useless in this situation…

“Best not move…” Anja declared, and as everyone’s vision cleared, the flash dying down, her breath was streaming out, forming ropey snakes of poison that had bit deep into one of the bodyguards as he had tried to move. He let out a groan, purple froth foaming from his lips, the blood seeping from his wounds a foul black, and as his body swelled up grotesquely, skin mottled with dark bruises, before he collapsed, dead.

“That was… annoying!” Aliyah was suddenly hit by a surge of wind element, slammed into the wall beside the fallen, dying thug. She let out a pained grunt, but continued to glare at the three Chosen, while surveying the situation. Trey had taken a kick from the metal-clad Chosen, though he had got his leg up to block, so was able to avoid a fatal injury, though the leg was clearly broken. As for the thugs, one was dying, three more were wounded, missing fingers or with deep cuts on their bodies, and only two had functional weapons left.

Not a bad result, but… fuck. She coughed blood, realising the phone had fallen by her feet, and it was still connected. Doesn’t matter, they’re in Botswana, right? That’s hours away. But shit, any info we can get to them can’t hurt…

Mayumi seemed horrified by seeing the guard die in front of her, her brown eyes were blinking, wide as saucers, as the saying went. Her grandfather seemed calmer, but it was clearly a front, especially as the second guard quickly threw himself to the ground. “I surrender! I’m not paid enough for this! Just let me leave and I’ll pretend I was never here!”

“Anyone speak that foreign gibberish?” Anja shrugged. “No? Well then…”

“But I’m speaking English!” the man cried, and indeed he was, but a moment later he was wrapped in the toxic snakes of gas, convulsing and screaming.

“Best dispose of him. We know first hand how dangerous our kind can be.” Anja observed. “Anyway… there’s no need to continue. Sbusiso, go grab the girl and the old man. These others…” As he stepped forwards, Katana moved, her own hidden weapons, specially crafted telescoping batons, slid free. She was fast, and trained, Chirurgery making her swifter than ordinary fighters. “Mayumi-sama, Ichijou-sama, run, I will buy you some time…”

“Sure you will.” The man of iron blocked her strikes effortlessly. Electricity surged from the batons, high-voltage like a stun-gun inside the mechanisms, but he merely frowned a little, body numb.

“Katana!” Mayumi gasped, shocked out of her stupor at seeing the guards killed, only to cry out as Katana was disarmed, a painful kick forcing her to her knees, where she scrambled for her fallen weapons, only for a bullet to pierce the ground by her hand, making her freeze.

“Enough.” Anja declared coldly. “Those troublemakers were too risky to let live, and they were only hired guards… hah, what pathetic ones they were… anyway. But you, girl. I hear that truly noble daughters in Japan have bodyguards from noble families themselves. You might still be worth something. But…” She glanced at the thug who had just pulled his trigger. “Don’t test me, girl. I can think of reasons not to push your luck.”

Even as Katana grimaced, her face pale, her eyes searched imploringly for Aliyah’s and Trey’s, and Aliyah grimaced. I fucking know, all right. Either way, you three have value, Trey and me are fucked. But… I’m not one to lie down and die… Trey was moving despite his broken leg, earth element used to create a momentary cloud of dirt, obscuring vision. Another light grenade dropped out of Aliyah’s top, and that wasn’t all she had. Her loose cargo trousers held a number of weapons, and she tugged one free. The nearest thug with a gun turned, opening fire, and Aliyah grimaced. One bullet had skimmed her, drawing blood, while a second and third lodged in her shoulder.

“Son of a bitch…” she cursed as the orb hit the ground. This time the bright light didn’t catch their invaders off guard, and Aliyah’s nose picked up the scent of death, poisonous snakes of gas winding towards her.  But… wind flashed, as she discharged her long, stick-like air gun, and a bullet took the shooter in the head, but that was a side aim. The discharged wind element whipped up Trey’s fading smokescreen, and also blew back the poisonous gas, buying her a moment.

Another thump, and Trey had managed to get hold of the last gun, crushing the face of one man with a savage headbutt. He turned, and despite not being able to see, his hearing and senses were keen, and so he squeezed the trigger. Unfortunately, his main target, Anja, was shielded by the man of metal, and bullets sparked off him. Trey grunted, and as the smokescreen diminished, Aliyah could see that her brother was now nursing a broken arm too, and several smashed ribs, blood leaking from his lips as he coughed in pain.

Yeah, she’s the key target, but… she was never going to be easy to take down… Aliyah had the same idea at first but realising that she was never going to get a shot, she switched target, knowing Trey would distract them. One handed it was tough to wrench her tank-top off, and now she was bare on her upper half, except for a plain bra that Trey always called wonderful engineering, which pissed her off to no end, but she wasn’t an exhibitionist. No, I needed it as a weapon. It works like this, huh…

The wind-using opponent had been caught out, and she had forced her knee into the small of his back, while gripping the fabric of her top in her teeth and with her good arm, using it to choke him. Of course, her strength wasn’t up to the task, and he even seemed to find it amusing, lazily enjoying the feel of her chest pressed against his head. A green glow shimmered, and Aliyah knew that was going to be the end of her. Except… That mad fucking rat is prepared for anything. This close… well fuck it. If I die, I die. If I live, they’ll probably kill me and Trey anyway… but this wolf doesn’t go down without biting the throat of her enemies…

Her hand shimmered red, and the triggers, which were designed to work with earth element, being inert and harmless otherwise, detonated. Micro explosives laced into the fabric blew, and Aliyah was thrown backwards, spitting blood and several shattered teeth. One eye was blinded, and her body was struck by numerous small metal spheres which were made from some strange alloy that retained elements. Her wounds were scorched, and the pain was something truly special, but she managed to raise her good hand and give the bastard the finger before she collapsed to the ground. Those bombs were supposed to be pulled out of my clothes, but… this way worked just fine. Up to you now, Trey. I think I’m fucked. But…

Even at close range, the explosives hadn’t been quite enough to take the bastard down, though his throat and face were ruined, and smoke was rising as the flame element was searing him. In that moment, Trey pulled off his belt buckle, and tossed the small, seemingly ornamental jewel on it. It turned into a streaking bolt of light, and the already ruined throat of their opponent shattered, and the head lolled to one side drunkenly, before the wind wielder collapsed, dead. Yeah, those toys sure do make assassinations… deadlier… and it shows the fuckers aren’t invincible. Not truly… well damn, Trey and me, we did it. We killed one of those Chosen freaks. Guess we can go down fucking proud!

Realising she was lying down near the fallen phone, she heard his voice, asking what the situation was. What do you think, dipshit? It’s… well, it’s fucked of course. Glad her mic was still in place so she didn’t have to move to speak, she spat blood from her ruined, burned mouth, gargling. “Bad, fucking bad.” She glanced over at the decaying, poisoned corpses of the two bodyguards. “Like we thought, the paper tigers were dogshit.  We’re fucking lucky… that…” She coughed up more blood, even as the man clad in mystical iron strode over, murder in his eyes. “…they underestimated Trey and me. But…” Her smile was bitter, as she met the furious gaze of her likely killer. “…it’s still not looking good…. I… think this is it…” Her communication was cut off as he stomped on the phone, then kicked her savagely, sending her broken body into the wall with enough force to crack bone.

“Sis!” Treyvon struggled to move, only to be punched and kicked by the last couple of thugs that were fit to fight. He gave a good account of himself, even injured, but he was soon on the ground, and the gun he had taken was in an assailant’s hand, reloaded from fallen bullets and aimed at his swelling, bloody face.

“You fucks killed Sbusiso!” the man of iron sneered. “I’ll make you regret that.”

“You hardly cared much for him, Amahle.” Anja sniffed, though she was sweating, probably relieved she had been protected by him from the well-executed assassination attempt. “But I do agree, he was one of us. The boss isn’t going to like that we lost him, even if he was only a middling fighter.” She scowled, and with a gesture, she ordered the man to shoot Trey, which he did, disabling his other leg, avoiding lethal injuries, though blood spilled.

“You… won’t win…” Katana had dragged herself upright, and put herself between the assailants and Mayumi, and Aliyah, her consciousness slowly fading, had to admire her guts, even if she didn’t think much of her wisdom. We didn’t do badly… all things considered… Coughing out more blood and another broken tooth, she realised the only reason she wasn’t dead was because the bastard… Amahle?... was enjoying watching her die slowly in great pain. Amateur hour move. That’s the trouble with these so-called Chosen. Got plenty of power and fancy tricks, but most of them don’t have the experience or the mindset… She glanced over at Trey, who also had a set of microbombs, though it was hard to see him with her field of vision halved. If you want someone dead, do it. Don’t be petty and screw shit up by going for cheap vengeance. Dead is dead…

“Oh?” Anja attacked, using her bare hands, and soon she had Katana by the throat. Mayumi, pale-faced, called out for Anja to let her go, but she merely shook her head, her expression cruel.

“I’m not talking to kids.” She addressed Kira Ichijou, who nodded, keeping his face calm, as if he had seen such carnage before. Maybe he has, I don’t know…

“So, this didn’t go to plan.” she sneered. “But we’re just here for ransom. There’s no need to hurt you, at least not yet.” She glanced at Mayumi with a smirk, enjoying her fear. “Now, a young, pretty girl like you, and us having a lot of big, burly, angry men…” She giggled wickedly. “I’m sure you can see where that might go, but… you Asians, always so big on chastity. It’s like when a woman gets fucked she’s no longer worth anything to a man. So backward. So… lucky you, you get to remain unspoiled. If these bastards want a tumble, they can go find a whore after this. One hole’s as good as another.”

As her words lowered Mayumi’s tension, Anja leaned in, grinning, though her eyes were as predatory as a snake’s. “Of course, that’s only so long as you’re worth anything to us. Same with your little toy guard here…” She shook Katana, lifting her off the ground one-handed with the sort of impossible strength Aliyah had seen many Chosen display. “…I think you should be a good girl and not cause any trouble, else…” She produced a pair of large metal scissors from her pocket, the blades clearly sharp and well-oiled, glittering menacingly. “…snip, snip.” She grinned viciously. “…a finger or two might persuade you to behave.”

Mayumi shuddered, unable to speak, and Anja turned her attention to Kira. “You wouldn’t want your granddaughter here to be maimed, would you? It would certainly hurt her marriage prospects.” The scissors clicked and clacked again as she opened and closed the blades. “Of course, should your family and the Japanese play ball, we’ll keep our word and not harm you. We’re not monsters, just in great need of money.”

“Somehow I don’t find your words reassuring, young woman.” Kira shook his head slowly. “Considering you killed our guards so callously.”

“Like I said, that’s a matter of safety. Can’t ever know what tricks people like us have up our sleeves.” She grimaced at the corpse of her comrade, before glowering at the dying Aliyah and Trey. “I guess even ordinary people can be trouble too. Anyway, it’d pain me to snip fingers from such young girls here…” Mayumi couldn’t help but watch the shears as they moved, horrified and mesmerised, face pale, likely imaging the feel of the metal slicing through her body, severing parts of her.

“…so, if need be, I can mail your fingers back to Japan. An old man like you doesn’t need so many, does he?” Anja taunted.

“It won’t come to that. My Mayumi is worth more than mere money.” Kira assured their kidnappers. “But… do you really think this will work? There have been explosions, gunfire, screams and panic… hotel security will be aware, and the police…”

“Won’t do shit.” Amahle grunted. “Nobody wants to die. Their guns are only toys against me, and they don’t get paid enough for suicide. There’s no justice in this world, only power!”

“I don’t disagree.” Kira said mildly. “Though it is a sad way to live. There are surely better ways to make money than making enemies of Japan and perhaps even the world?”

Anja snorted. “Trying to stall? Like I said, it’s useless. We’ll be going now. Even if nobody will stop us, it’s a problem if some idiot with a stupid disregard for their own lives gets all self-righteous and heroic. So, what’s it to be?” She clacked her shears and shook Katana-san. “Oh, you can finish off those two bastards who killed Sbusiso if you want.” she told Amahle, who smirked cruelly.

Here it is then. The end… Trey was thinking the same, as he managed a bloody smile. Not the way I wanted to go out, and we didn’t even stop them taking the old man and the girls. Shit…

“I’m very much looking forward to this.” he grated, and Anja continued her explanation, revelling in the power she held over them.

“What can you do? Send your army to root us out? That’ll never happen. Pay assassins, hire mercenaries? We’re not scared of them! Your own blessed by the Gods?” She spat at the two bloated, stinking corpses she had poisoned to death. “Seems to me your guys are all bark and no bite. And you’ve barely seen a fraction of what I’m capable of…”

“Maybe. But what of Akio-kun? Aren’t you scared of the Hero of Britain? Why else did you come when he wasn’t here?” As Anja paused, Kira pressed his advantage. “It’s one thing killing my bodyguards, but those two…” He nodded at Aliyah and Trey. “…they’re his people. If you kill them any chance of clemency goes for you both. Even more so if you harm my Mayumi.”

The two Chosen paused, looking uncomfortable, and Aliyah spat more blood derisorily, though she regretted it moments later. Fuck, best not provoke them. Sure, Trey and me, we’re bleeding out, but… if we ain’t a cold corpse, there’s still fight left in us…

“Oh, is your granddaughter one of his women?” Anja raised one eyebrow. “I didn’t know.”

“No, but… she’s very dear friends with one of his fiancées, and she’s also his business partner. Besides, Akio-kun is hell on those who hurt women and girls.” Kira warned.

“I’m so scared.” Anja scoffed, but even with one eye Aliyah could see she was unnerved, the tips of her scissors wobbling. “If that’s the case, I’ll send him a ransom demand too, get some cash. Maybe I’ll send him an ear…” She clicked the blades. “That’s if he survives Dino’s trap, of course. Which he won’t. But…” she glanced at Amahle and her surviving thugs. “…we should go. I’ve not had a call from the others. I can’t see that idiot Nkosi beating all our guys, but… why take chances.”

Grabbing Mayumi with her hand holding the scissors, Mayumi screeched in fear as the cold blades touched her cheek. “Oh shut it…” Anja snapped. “Make a noise and it’ll be your tongue I cut out. Maybe your husband in future would like that, I hear Asians like their women submissive.”

As Kira was herded out too, following, he cast one last look back at Aliyah and Trey, before trying to comfort the trembling, deathly pale Mayumi. Soon, only the dead were left behind, along with the two critically wounded siblings. Well isn’t this just capping off a wonderful fucking day? Shit… As Aliyah coughed up blood, her body starting to feel cold, she was grateful for the Chirurgery and hard training that left her body strong enough to survive, even if it was but a temporary reprieve.

“Her phone… uh… ah…” Aliyah hated how her words sounded through a mouthful of shattered and missing teeth. “…busted. Got yours, Trey?”

He nodded, the motion slow and painful, Releasing his microbombs, which were now of no use, he fumbled out his phone. “At least we know they’ll be as dead as us soon…” Trey grinned, gallows humour in full force. “You don’t try and extort a man who can probably solo an army battalion, especially when he… can get answers to… any question he wants. They’re fucked. The only question is how they die…”

Aliyah grinned, that thought pleasing her. “No shit. Hope the girls… get out… okay. Miss noble is… a pain in the ass… and her bodyguard with the stupid nickname...” More blood flowed down her chin. “…fuck… she did her best. Dial, Trey… you… fuck! Any lead we… give… can help!”

No, that’s it! I ain’t fucking dying today. Not until I see that bitch lose her own fingers to those damn scissors! I’m going to cut her apart piece by fucking piece. Must have… something that mad rat gave us… huh, yeah, that’s it! With a grimace she managed to untangle the necklace she was wearing, and the vial-shaped locket was full of strange liquid, glimmering with orange and rainbow lights. Swallowing it down, she grimaced. Emergency first aid for serious shit, huh? But supposedly it’s a prototype so hurts like fuck, so…

Moments later Aliyah heard hoarse screaming, only to realise it was her, and she then wished it only hurt like fuck, and that she could pass out so she didn’t have to feel it anymore…