"Welcome to Starlight City News, with our breaking story about the explosion at the Raytronics Financial Center this morning. The cause of the explosion has been determined to be a malfunctioning hovercar crashing into the penthouse office during the landing sequence. The resulting magical fire has set the top three floors of the building on fire. Firefighters are still on the scene, but they estimate that it will continue to burn through the night because of the hovercar's magic fuel. Inhabitants downwind, in the Graybricks and Higashi Districts, are advised to keep their windows closed and wear masks when going outside."
The light of the ultrawide television screen illuminated the otherwise murky room. On the tea table, laden with half-finished snack packets and empty beer cans, burned a cigarette, carefully balanced atop the pile of butts in the ashtray. The smoke rose to the grate in the ceiling, quietly sucking up the stale air in the room and expelling it out a distant vent aboveground.
Starlight City News anchor Harold Powell spoke in an impassioned tone, maintaining a professional and informative tone throughout his report. Most of the city's inhabitants would see this, whether at home, on their phones, the public transit, or on the countless screens on buildings and public announcement boards. For most of them, this was the only source of information they ever consulted.
No mention of an attack. No death toll. Not even a word about the deployment of the SLPD's anti-terror unit. They treated this as an accident and kept the details under wraps. The idea of a successful terrorist attack was foreign to the city, and it had to stay this way in the public eye.
Here, in the basement hideout of the terrorists in question, Neri exchanged a frowning glance with Igor. They didn't want any heat, but was this silence a blessing or a curse?
"As expected," said Nightingale, speaking through the Thoughtmend Stele. She had combed the networks for every little tidbit of information on the situation. Even now, the corporation blackout remained in place, and the official stance was what they had just heard from the presenter.
Starlight City News was owned by none other than Starlight Enterprises. No piece of news would slip through their control. So, the question now was why they hid the truth. The magical girl Railroad was still on the Starlight Billboard Rankings, and David Song's kidnapping wasn't mentioned even in corporate-internal correspondence. The information blackout was in full effect.
"You have message from Lady Rosca," Igor said, raising his phone demonstratively. It was a cheap model from one of the few remaining corner stores in the Graybricks District, with a few bits and bobs added on top to block all tracing. He addressed Raven as she leaned in the doorway between the server chamber and the recreation room. Hearing the name, she grimaced. "She want meet you. Now."
"I don't want to meet her, though," she muttered under her breath and looked away. A smile crept onto Nightingale's unconscious features even though her mind was inside the monolith. She could hear a pin drop in the room over or a rat pattering through the walls inside this entire facility as long as she was under.
"I drive you?" But Igor didn't hear and offered innocently as he heaved his large frame out of the couch. Neri took up the cigarette from the pile and leaned back in his armchair, tuning out. The news had moved on, talking about a gang-related crime in the Atlas District. Nowadays, that didn't count much for news, and most people likely switched to a variety show at this point.
"... I'll take the Ventari." Raven turned around and walked away. Igor exchanged a confused look with Neri, who only shrugged. She silently headed into her room by the stairs. The tactical bodysuit hung in her closet, and the leather jacket lay at the top of the clothes piled onto her only chair. She would not wear either of those out for the foreseeable future.
Instead, she put on her iridescent neon, high-collar crop jacket with the puffy sleeves over her tight-fitting shirt with a tattoo-like logo. They hid the twin handguns on her wrist slides better than any other outfit. Her Origami Sword was placed in a special, hidden compartment in her boot. Thus equipped, she was ready to head out. Picking her key off a hanger on the wall, she walked out and up the stairs.
"Bring us Dino's Pizza on the way back," came Neri's voice from the rec room. Raven stopped and furrowed her brow. For all they knew, the corporations were looking for them everywhere. Yet, he seemed to live like he always had, free of consequences.
"She not coming back tonight," Igor commented. Raven narrowed her eyes. She looked over at Nightingale, but the Thoughtmend Stele hid her from view. With a sigh, she continued along the gangway and pressed the button at the door. The heavy machine above moved aside first before the door opened.
Raven made her way up the stairs, past the parked van, and deeper into the workshop. She went through multiple rusted doorways before reaching an enclosed room. It smelled of rubber and engine oil. The light flickered on by itself, revealing a garage large enough to fit the van. But in its center stood only a single motorcycle.
The full-black, sleek exterior featured not a single angle. A sloped body, sweeping seat, and spokeless wheels came together to create the appearance of a crouching alien predator rather than a machine built by humans. Upon pressing a button on the remote key, a part near its head opened, and the steering handles emerged. A screen on its body lit up, showing the logo, Ventari BT-12.
"Welcome back," the pleasant female voice of the onboard intelligence greeted Raven. She didn't respond and picked up the black helmet with swept-back ear-like attachments from a bench in passing. As she saddled up, the screen displayed the usual statistics like speed and fuel level. It was fully ready to roll out.
The garage door opened automatically. Raven recognized Nightingale's intent in it and whispered a 'thank you' before putting on her helmet. The magic motor inside the BT-12 came to life upon her lightest touch. She poured her magic into the circuits, and the screen glitched out. Then, it was as if her consciousness expanded to the machine itself. It became part of her.
With the violent roar of a beast, the bike lurched forward and shot out of the garage. The red taillight left behind a streak in the shadowed alleyway between the buildings. The ride was smooth due to the magically enhanced suspension, even as the wheels tumbled across the cracked pavement. Weaving through the rusted containers, piles of scraps, and rotted crates with almost unnatural movements, Raven drove out of the warehouse district.
The sun had set by the time Raven reached the Atlas byway exit ramp. She glanced to her right, at the Aurora Stellaris illuminating the city, brighter than the full moon. Standing out from among the skyscrapers was the eternal construction site of the Ascension Bridge. Upon completion, it would stand at a thousand and three hundred meters tall. A joint corporate research center, a spire would be extended into the rainbow-colored phenomenon to probe the other side.
Unlike the aurora's presence, this one instilled only dread in the city's inhabitants. It was colloquially known as the Hubris Tower or Calamity's Reach. Everybody but the corporations seemed to know what a bad idea this was. But they only took it as a challenge - another opportunity to grow their revenue.
Even through her helmet and the rumbling of the BT-12's engine, Raven could hear the sound of gunfire nearby when she rolled off the ramp. The wail of sirens approached, implying a longer shootout. The gangs would scatter before the cops arrived. Only the bodies would be left to be taken in. Free corpse disposal.
Life was cheap in the Atlas District. Cheaper than anywhere else in Starlight City. It had always been bad, but ever since the first-generation magical girls perished, the lawlessness had exploded. From the ashes of the Heartstopper Syndicate rose over a dozen organizations vying for hegemony over the criminal underworld in the city.
The corporations turned a blind eye to it. In reality, it was a testbed for their magitech enhancements. Many a prototype falling off trucks ended here, installed on some poor teenage boy hoping to rise in the ranks of whatever gang he felt a false sense of kinship with. It would always be retrieved by corporation enforcers a few weeks later. But not before he had been goaded into using it to kill a few dozen rival gang members, providing field data for corporate research teams and creating an advantage for the boss he had trusted.
Raven knew that her BT-12 would draw unwanted attention. However, the gangs had a silent understanding not to mess with her. She had Lady Rosca to thank for that. Still, all eyes were on her when her wholly out-of-place presence moved through the garbage-littered streets of Atlas. The gazes were a roughly even split between cold hostility and burning jealousy. She had to be quick.
The St. Luka's Cathedral dominated the cityscape in the northwestern corner of the district, seemingly reaching for one of the branches of the Aurora Stellaris high in the sky above its tallest spire. The sound of the sea could be heard whenever the gunfire stopped, but its origin was hidden by the rows of illegally constructed housing units where the old wharf used to be. But the roads two blocks around the cathedral were eerily silent. Even the local inhabitants didn't understand why they maintained such respect near this building of worship when the rest of the district was a godforsaken hellhole.
Raven knew the reason. This used to be the secret base of the Heartstopper Syndicate. And Iele Coven, the most powerful splinter group to emerge from it, called these solemn walls their headquarters. While the others engaged in endless gang wars, they maintained the discipline and decorum of their forebears.
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Leaving her bike on the street outside the cathedral grounds, Raven walked toward its richly carved wooden doors. She didn't need to worry about it being stolen. The enforcers of the Iele Coven were watching closely. Nobody would dare touch the belongings of their guest under their very eyes.
The doors swung inside seemingly on their own when Raven approached. She paused for a moment and took a deep breath. It smelled of the nearby ocean mixed with the incense billowing out from inside the building. Bracing herself mentally, she stepped over the threshold and was greeted by an empty main hall steeped in the twilight of thousands of candles warding off the darkness of night.
In the center of the hall stood what caused this zone of peace: The Cogitum Lance. Very few people in Starlight City were aware of its existence. The twenty-meter-tall pillar of a granite-like material, roughly shaped like a medieval jousting lance, was cordoned off from touch, but otherwise treated as a relic rather than the powerful magical artifact that it was.
Raven approached the Cogitum Lance with a grim look. A person in contact with it could subliminally influence people in a large area around it, swaying them toward their own thoughts. It stayed in effect even when the user no longer touched it. Only those with inherent magical energy could use it, and only the same could withstand its pull.
"Welcome. We have been expecting you, Miss Raven," a woman's voice called out to her. The clacking of sharp metal on stone echoed through the holy halls. Raven turned her head to where it came from and furrowed her brow at the sight.
A towering woman in a modified nun's habit, standing almost three meters tall, approached. The outfit was more like a form-fitting, black evening dress, with an open back that reached nearly all the way to the buttocks. Oversized, fur-covered sleeves and a spider-web-like, gilded cage enclosing her ample cleavage completed the look meant to entice rather than conceal. A long silken veil covered the lower half of her face, and a golden circlet bound a nun's headdress that hid all of her hair except for a single blonde lock hanging over her nose. Lightless black eyes, surrounded by thick eyelashes and eyeliner of the same colorlessness, created a stark contrast to her bright gray skin. She was at once slender and voluptuous, yet radiated physical strength all the same.
The ankle-length dress had a frilled section in the back that hovered just above the ground as she walked with small steps to avoid causing its hem to flip up. But even that stride was longer than Raven's regular walking speed. The giant nun of the Iele Coven stopped a few meters away and performed a curtsy. "Lady Rosca awaits you in the inner chamber."
This was Lavinia Kiritescu, better known as Sister Striga, one of the top enforcers of the Heartstopper Syndicate and now the Iele Coven. She was not a magical girl but one enhanced through dark rituals and artifacts embedded in her body. Flameheart and her friends had clashed with her many times in the past, but she had survived the final downfall of the syndicate. She didn't recognize Raven as her nemesis and talked to her respectfully as a guest of Lady Rosca.
"Please follow me." Lavinia gestured with a gloved hand so large that it could fully enclose Raven's.
"I know the way," she asserted without changing her expression and walked past her. It took restraint to not attack. Sister Striga had killed countless people as the syndicate's enforcer, and her work likely had not changed. But Raven was no longer the same Flameheart. While her sense of righteousness still burned in her chest, she was in no position to dispense justice. After all, she was a terrorist who had killed innocent people in her pursuit of the truth.
Leaving behind the towering woman, Raven headed toward one of the cathedral wings. When she left through the door, the stone floor was replaced by a crimson carpet, muffling the sounds of her footsteps. Religious paintings hung on the walls, but she paid them no attention. She knew exactly why Lady Rosca had called her, and she had to prepare herself mentally for their meeting.
She walked past rooms with doors ajar, offering a glimpse into the inner workings of the Iele Coven. Young girls were practicing dancing, sparring, and the use of firearms. The next generation of enforcers in the making. Raven shut her heart to these sights and continued down the corridor toward a set of winding stairs leading up to the first floor. As she climbed the steps, a man in a pinstripe suit came down, flanked by two larger men wearing shades even indoors.
He looked at her in passing but didn't say a word. Long, wavy brown hair, a perfectly trimmed mustache and goatee, and narrowed eyes filled with the coldness of a loveless mind. Anybody could tell that he was a killer even without seeing the silver gun in a holster flashing from underneath his flapping suit. Adrian Gonzales, another former enforcer of the Heartstopper Syndicate, known as El Cortador. Unlike Sister Striga, who seemed content with her role, he had taken fate into his own hands and become the leader of a splinter group in direct opposition to the Iele Coven.
Raven didn't stop and continued up the stairs, but her thoughts swirled. What did the leader of the Beheaders do here? Maybe there was more to Lady Rosca's invitation than she thought.
Finally, her feet took her to the door at the end of a long hallway. Nobody stood guard outside, belying the importance of the person inside. Raven raised a hand to knock, but the door opened on its own, letting the heavy smoke filling the room spill out into her face. It swirled back as if to beckon her into the den of the wolves.
Quite literally so. Two wolves, one with all-black fur and one with all-white, lay on the hand-woven carpet inside, raising their heads upon her entry. They recognized her smell and lay back down.
"Raven!" a distinct feminine voice marred by decades of smoking called out to her joyfully. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and walked in fully. The room was crowded. Hand-carved ornaments and relics hung from the walls and decorated the mantle over the lit fireplace. Strange rocks and piles of wrapped goods stood on every available surface beside the carpet. It looked almost like an archeology collection rather than an office in a house of prayer.
Raven looked over to the desk, and her eyes met two piercing golden irises. Lady Rosca, real name Felicia Varcolac, last living executive of the Heartstopper Syndicate. She was a diminutive woman with flaming red hair kept in a wolf cut that went out of style before Raven was born. Despite looking like she had yet to experience her growth spurt, she had been over thirty years old when she first fought Flameheart a decade ago.
"Or should I say..." Lady Rosca put out her half-finished cigar in an ashtray filled with over a dozen blackened stubs and stood up from her revolving chair. She rounded her table and approached Raven with a smile that extended to her predator-like eyes. The door was slammed shut by an invisible hand. "... Inima de Flacara - Flameheart."
"Get to the point," Raven demanded in a growl. The wolves raised their heads at her aggressive tone and glared at her, but she ignored them.
"Raytronics Financial Center. You got what you wanted, huh?" the red-haired lady spoke in a surly tone, walking past Raven to pet her wolves. They enjoyed her touch and calmed down. "Or did you? You don't look too happy about it."
"You already know."
"David Song is a nobody. Why do you think Raytronics Corporation doesn't have its own magical girl division? They're one of the few in Starlight City who don't have a finger in the pie."
"You think I didn't know that? We got info out of him, though."
"Info I could have given you without having to commit a massacre."
Raven stepped up to Lady Rosca and glared down at her. She was clearly mocking her. Theoderic van de Riem had his tendrils in every little secret; everybody in Starlight City who wasn't a mindless civilian already knew that. But the CEO popsicle had given them confirmation of his direct involvement in this matter. Surely, she couldn't have known that.
"But I'm here to make you an offer. An in with Starlight Dynamics," Lady Rosca offered with a grin.
Raven's glare turned murderous, and the wolves leaped up to their feet to growl at her. But within a second, they whined and backed down in fear. Only their diminutive owner stood her ground before the much taller girl who used to be her mortal enemy. She knew exactly how to push Raven's buttons without going too far. Her face flushed, and sweat beaded on her forehead. Oh, the thrill of it!
"I know you made your preparations for what comes after David Song. But with my ticket, you're saving many more months of groundwork," Lady Rosca continued as she turned away with a flutter of her long eyelashes. Raven remained silent, her dark glare not letting up. Behind that facade were thoughts in turmoil. "You could even begin tomorrow."
"What's in it for you?" finally, she spoke up, her voice the very example of suppressed anger.
"You know. The usual," the redhead turned around with a sultry look, biting her lower lip demonstratively. Then, her eyes widened in surprise, and she put a hand over her mouth, speaking in an exaggerated innocent tone, "Oh, but then you wouldn't be able to begin tomorrow."
"Answer me seriously," Raven didn't let herself get drawn into Lady Rosca's pace and insisted. Seeing her expression, she relented.
"You saw El Cortador on your way in," she said as she walked toward the wall next to the fireplace. She touched the handle of the cleaning brush among all the fire irons and turned it counter-clockwise before pulling on it. A hidden door opened to reveal a dark room on the other side. "If you want to know more, you know what to do."
With these words, she disappeared inside, leaving Raven with the two cowering wolves. The door remained open, an invitation for her to follow. She weighed her options but already knew that there was no real choice; she had prepared herself for hell when she started to walk down this path. This would not deter her.
Clicking her tongue, she passed the wolves without another look and entered the room after Lady Rosca. The door slowly closed behind her, leaving her in utter darkness. Then, the ceiling lights switched on, bathing everything in a pleasant orange glow. One could only describe the sight as a torture room, if not for the fact that the centerpiece was a black bed with an elaborate frame from which ropes and chains hung.
Lady Rosca was already undressed, rummaging in a built-in closet with her small, bare bottom sticking out. A red wolf's tail grew from the base of her spine, swishing left and right like a dog anticipating treats. Raven rolled her eyes up and clenched her fist to hold back from walking over and ripping it off.
"I knew you would come around," Lady Rosca turned to her and spoke with an expectant smile. Wolf ears had sprouted on top of her head, and her eyes looked even more animalistic than before. She was a wolfshifter, one of a handful of humans in the world who had been invaded by a spirit from beyond the Aurora Stellaris and maintained her sanity. The power that came with this once-unwilling fusion allowed her to stand toe to toe with magical girls.
She raised her hands and presented two options: A ring gag and strap-on the length and girth of her forearm, or an enema syringe and baseball-sized anal beads. Her smile turned lecherous. Raven recoiled on the inside, but maintained her stern face. Taking a deep breath, she stomped toward Lady Rosca, whose eyes widened in shock. Her palm slammed the wall behind the diminutive woman, and she towered over her with a look of utter disdain.
"Both it is," Lady Rosca said breathlessly, her face flushing red.
"If you transform again, I'm going to kill you," Raven declared, grabbing her face and lifting her off the ground with one hand. "That's not a challenge. I'm not playing around this time."
The Iele Coven's boss was like putty in her hands. She signaled agreement with her quivering golden eyes, watering in anticipation. This hatred was the perfect spice for what they were about to do.
