Secrets Upon Secrets

3 - Riviera Grey

After the non-battle, I decided to mess with my 'nemesis'. (Yes, I think it's stupid to call someone that. Yes, most are self proclaimed. But no, Steven Onyx doesn't call himself my nemesis, and I wouldn't call him that either.)

Rival is a better term for him based on our interactions.

I respect him, begrudgingly.

However, I do find him disgustingly heroic and proud. Nearly always a one-person team. (A sentiment I could appreciate from an ally and even more so an opponent, though I didn't like easy battles. A waste of time in my opinion.)

He doesn't often bring backup and that's a tactical error that I think only a novice would make.

Even if you had the strongest power in the world, going into a fight without backup or any prior plan was a fool's mission. (I learned that the hard way when I was a kid.)

That's not the only reason I was here though.

There was still a small part of me that hoped I'd be able to complete the submission from earlier today.

See, while we did manage to complete the main objective of the outing, (despite the issues that occurred,) I had a secondary objective that didn't end up playing out.

Before the mission, during the briefing, Avory and I got information that Robin was going to be on the scene.

While that was technically a warning to watch out for him, I took it as an opportunity to exact revenge on him.

That annoying little brat had followed me around for years and when he was finally giving me some space he decided to go and join the Red Hounds. Aka the true dark side. (That was something everyone could agree on.)

Anyways... messing with my rival and checking to see if he had any leads on Robin. Win-win.

(For me at least.)

The door opened and I heard the sound of his keys crashing into the floor.

I smiled to myself.

Currents rarely showed any sort of reaction to anything. (Such was the way of telepaths.) So it was a rare treat to get to see him so blatantly shocked.

Currently, I was sitting at a table that conveniently overlooked both the door and a wall composed mostly of windows.

I sipped the cup of coffee that I'd gotten myself. (In reality, I'd taken a short detour on my way to get mochas from a local coffee shop and just stole a clean mug from his cupboard.)

After he seemed to regain composure I gently set down the cup and motioned for him to sit across from me.

There, on the other side of the table, sat a dusty-colored, porcelain mug. Identical mine and full of the same hot mocha latte.

He stared at me for a moment, probably trying to read my mind, but right now the only thing I was thinking about was how I'd rather be reading in a garden, enjoying the last of the sunshine as the winter chill set in.

After a moment's hesitation, he cautiously approached and sat down.

"Can I help you?" he asked. Whether he was trying to play it safe or was pretending to be ignorant, I couldn't yet tell.

I briefly allowed myself to think of my main purpose for coming here, knowing he was still listening to my mind.

His eyes seemed to flair in recognition at something I thought of, or an image in my mind, and I nearly slipped and smiled.

Perfect, this lead might be fruitful afterall. I thought.

"Earlier today did you happen to run into any white haired mob members?" I asked, "Specifically a male, about 18, with purple eyes?" I asked conversationally.