DIVISION 52 - BOOK I

CHAPTER XLIX

– S C O R P I O N –

I pulled in a team of my personal guard as we strode down the crimson hallways of the largest arms dealer in the black and clean markets. It was about time we had the necessities for the job we were about to embark on. We had the faces... 

Seven of us would wear Imperial troop faces as we infiltrated the Emperor's tower. Not all of them from interrogated guards. We needed to throw suspicions away and carefully replace most of the guards–whose identity we had already under construction with the faceless man or woman–on the day we broke in.

Untraceable and concealable weapons only. No rifles or automatic weapons. I preferred the edge of a blade either way...

Two traditional and rare oak doors were swept inwards to reveal Xafra.

He was a wisp of a man, sharp as a knife. His name clung to that description and directly translated into blade in a forgotten language. His dark suit hugged his thin frame and long fingers. Only a black pyramid of hair graced his chin and his black, cat-like eyes cut through every one of our party before landing on myself.

A wicked smile lit his face.

"Scorpion, good fortune brings you back to my doors I trust." He did not state it like a question, leaving no room for one to judge it disrespectful and prying. He played the game too well for such errors.

I strode forwards without my classic red cloak swaggering with me, without the set of daggers or fusion pistols that commonly sat upon my hips. Instead I walked up to Xafra as another nondescript civilian–except anything but. He noticed this as I walked.

I paused before him and our eyes held wordlessly. He did not flinch before me. Our paths crossed too much for that. As did his with many more monsters from the shadows.

"I'm in the market for something special." I uttered dryly. I flicked a hand and my personal guard melted through the doors beyond him to assess his new material. They all knew what their tastes were.

"Allow me to personally make your search easier. Making a body one with elements and fusion is always an art to me. Especially when I am in the presence of the artist of our time..." He allowed with a quick brow raise.

I let out a snort and extended a hand wordlessly. I had been through the charade many times, but this man fitted me weapons that overthrew Empires. This man and given me the daggers that adorned my throne. He knew when and where it most hurt my adversaries without even seeing them. 

Extensions of yourself. He would say. That is what these tools must be–their only purpose.

We strode past as my guard assessed rows of weapon racks. Blades that cut the air at a glance. New developments. Creative killing machines. My eyes caught hold of a pair of daggers that activated once the user pressed the hilts. I watched Proximo extend two blades with a glowing edge of plasma. He grinned at its glow before sheathing them and winking at me when I passed.

"I have awaited your next visit eagerly, Scorpion. You are aware I take personal pride and make it my goal to impress you." He told me as we stepped before another set of rare wooden doors and his heavy set guards drew them back.

Now we were within the room where it truly happened. The room where creation and annihilation occurred. The place where power was shifted and remade. The floor glowed a light blue in a patchwork of hexagon tiles. The walls split between stone pillars and glowing shelves. Shelves of what I was here to see.