[IC] Over the Ages Episode 1: All that Remains

[Whoami]

-- December 15th, 6320 -- 1:34pm -- Mantle Level -- District 14 --

Dust, it was everywhere. There was so much of dust that tables, chairs, shelves and the floor were sitting under a one inch layer of it. Dust even floated in the air, illuminated thin beams of light through a boarded up window. The dust was a gray-ish brown. There was so much of it that all of the room's contents looked like some sort of empire of dust. The whole room was the same color, save for the orange light pouring through those cracks in the boards. There was no sound in this room. It made it seem tranquil, like a large field of virgin snow. It would have been an award winning picture for a photographer if one happened to come across it.

In District 14 of the Mantle Level, places like that existed everywhere. District 14 was an industrial district when the Mantle Level was first being formed. It was built to refine the massive amount of minerals being mined so that nothing went to waste. People who lived in District 14 during that time were housed in cramped apartment buildings. Every one of them was identical to the next. Next to the large refineries were blocks of apartments housing the thousands of workers that had fourteen hour shifts every day. All of the facilities in these industrial districts recycled the residues in an attempt to be as efficient as possible.

With the completetion of the Mantle Level, Districts just like 14 were shut down and abandoned. The facilities were left defunct. Over time, they became home to orphans, gangs, homeless, and everybody in between. The police hardly enforced laws here, the dust was thick enough that anybody not wearing a rebreather or had air filtering augmentations died within hours. It would be a costly effort to equip every officer being sent into these districts to find people whos' lives were inconsequential or whos' crimes were insignificant. Still, people managed to survive past a few hours and had turned the defunct industrials districts into great slums.

Vincent Toth stepped into the dusty room. His full face helmet filtered the dust out of the air so he could breathe. A small holo-light was attached to the side of his helmet; wherever he looked, the hard edges illuminated by the holo-light were highlighted. His tactical suit changed colors and texture to match that of the dusty room, he became another part in the empire of dust. His ballistic assault rifle was held in Vincent's hands. It was held low, he wasn't expecting any danger in this room. "Sam, would you please remind me when the rendezvous is supposed to happen?"

The shape of a woman appeared in the hololight, standing on top of the inch thick layer of dust on one of the tables. The woman looked around the room for a moment and then turned to Vincent and spoke with a smooth, synthesized voice, "Five minutes ago. You're late."

"Late? I'm the only one here. I'm early."

The hologram chuckled, something that always bugged Vincent. Sam was a Class 4 AI, whenever it displayed human emotion or used human gestures, Vincent got a chill down his spine. He understood that as a Class 4, it was programmed to be as human as possible. The prospect of an artificial being acting just as human as a real one didn't fly in VIncent's book. The AI pointed just next to Vincent, "Those shelves beg to differ."

"What the hell are you talking about, Sam?" Vincent asked incredulously. He turned his head, the AI remained in the holo-light and chose another spot to stand on. The holo-light highlighted more than dust covered shelves, it hilighted the ridges of armor, weapons, and the contours of human bodies. They weren't shelves at all.

Before Vincent could speak a word, the 'shelf' closest to him punted him in the arm. "Hah! Toth gets trumped again!"

The armor faded into view, that same dusty brown as the the rest of the room turned into a matte black. Then the rest of the supposed shelves did the same shortly after. The Dynamic Camouflage System, it was exactly what had made Vincent used to make himself look the same as his surroundings. Seems the others had the same idea and used it to pull a fast one on Vincent. "Hello, Spark..." Vincent sighed, how could he not have noticed the footprints in the floor that led exactly to where they were all standing.

The team all began to chuckle, even Sam, Sam! Even the damned AI was in on their little prank. If Vincent had the same childish sense of humor like the rest of his team, he'd try to get the team back some day. Vincent was regarded to be the most serious man on the team. Whenever there was a cheesy joke for a momentary laugh, Vincent never bought into it. He was the member of the team that focused on his job to make up for the childish nature of his team.

Spark rounded Vincent to stand in front of him. Vincent's gaze followed him, his holo-light highlighting the other man; Sam chose to sit on Sparks shoulder. Spark was the team's tech specialist, you could hand him the most single-minded gadget and he'd find other effective uses for it. Spark was the team's jester, always the first to crack a joke, always the first to ease tension. Vincent would usually scold him when he cracked some cynical joke in the line of fire. "Hello to you too, Corner."

Corner, Vincent hated that nickname. He had gotten it back in his boot camp days when he constantly forgot to check his corners. The habit tended to show itself at times. Every time Vincent didn't check a corner, that name would spring up from one of his team mates. It was easily the quickest way to get on his nerves. Vincent grumbled something, the full face helmet muffled his voice a bit so whatever he grumbled was inaudible. "If we weren't on the job right now, I'd probably be hitting you in that pimply face of your's, Spark."

The rest of the team hooted at his remark. Vincent moved into the center of the room and leaned back against one of the dusty tables. He nearly slipped when he forgot that the surface of the table was actually a surface of dust. Sam stood on the table directly in front of him. The rest of the team gathered around her, all masked by the identical full helmets, all shining holo-lights onto the same area to give more clarity to the holographic projection.The dust made the projection fuzzy at best. Sam looked around at all eight of the operatives. "Kill Team Two-Six, welcome to your new home for the next month."

Spark snorted, "This?! This is our new home? A fucking dust bowl?" he groaned, "Why do you always find us the shittiest places to live in during missions, Sam?"

The AI turned toward Spark and rolled her eyes -another thing Vincent was creeped out by- and put her hands to her hips. She leaned on one leg, she looked like a rebellious teenager in that stance. "Sorry, Spark. I didn't realize you were paid to complain. You knew what you were signing up for."

That witty remark managed to make Vincent chuckle, despite the fact that even her lifelike humor was unsettling to him. Spark waved his hand dismissively and crossed his arms, "So why sand-castle, Sam?" he asked.

"This location is close and discreet enough for us to conduct our next chain of operations. Our spies have found an immortal, but this one presents us with a rare opportunity, something we haven't been faced with before."

The team looked around to one another. Vincent shrugged when Spark turned his gaze toward him. They all returned their attention to Sam. The AI changed from a human appearance to a 3D map of a large apartment block. Every time she spoke, the lines making the building brightened. "Every immortal we've faced up to this point are thousands of years old. They predate the platforms, the moon landing, some even predate the Romans. While some have come about of the past few hundred years, we have never been able to determine their position before the Illuminati reaches out to them."

The team studied the apartment block, knowing that Sam was presenting them with their first place to investigate. They studied each hallway, each room, each point of entry and exit. They learned the building inside and out in just a few minutes. Sam continued, "What is so special about this immortal is that he was born only nineteen years ago. His birth is on official records. It only recently became clear that he is an immortal. If he's inexperienced and doesn't fully understand his potential, he could make an easy target to capture and study."

One of the other team member stepped forward. Oshiah, the new team leader, was a mountain of a man. He stood six feet and four inches. He was a wall of solid muscle, Vincent could've sworn that Oshiah's muscles weighed more than he did entirely. Oshiah had come from Kill Team Ten after all but Oshiah had been killed by an immortal and Two-Six lost their team leader at the hands of another. Oshiah's weight made his footfalls heavy and loud, he had such a presence that standing toe to toe with him made you feel entirely insignificant.

Kill Teams were the invisible squads the United Earth Government used to hunt down and eliminate immortals. Kill Team Two-Six had had the highest rate of success that the loss of their team leader was a critical blow to their effectiveness. Luckily, Kill Team Ten was a close second, so Oshiah was a good match for them. Kill Teams were infamous for more than their efficiency in handling immortals, they were called as such because rookie kill team operatives never made it past their first or second mission. If a soldier in the regular forces was out of line, they'd be moved into a kill team under the guise of a promotion, only to let natural selection do the rest. All kill team operatives were miscreants in one way or another; but those who survived became the best warriors humanity had to offer. After all, fighting individuals on par with gods took a certain amount of skill. But kill teams weren't so much of a fighting force rather than a team of coordinated assassins. Against an immortal, the only way to succeed was to get the element of surprise. These teams were nimble, quiet and loaded out with the latest in stealth technology. Getting into a head on fight with an immortal meant certain death, Vincent was lucky to be alive for as long as he was.

"What else can you tell us about this young immortal, Sam?" Oshiah's voice was deep and accented, he grew up in an Upper Level district reminiscent of Old Britain.

"The immortal's name on file is 'Dzakar Black'." she said.

Spark shrugged, his arms still crossed, "Interesting name. Clearly not his actual one."

Sam answered, "That is uncertain. In this region of the Mantle Level, names are a lot more convoluted. Some come up with their own names or are named after their actions. It's difficult to say if Dzakar Black is his real name or simply just a given one.

Rapture stepped forward, he was the only one not wearing any helmet or rebreather to fend off the dust. He was an ExHuman, entirely cybernetic. Breathing was a distant memory for Rapture, the dust didn't bother him in the slightest. His synthetic skin hid most of his cybernetics, and it was upgraded to have the same D.C.S features as the armor worn by the rest of the team. Rapture was a chameleon, he could change his skin color and texture to nearly anything, he could even change the shape of his skin slightly to look more like a rigid rock or tree bark. After Vincent, Rapture was the longest standing member of Kill Team Two-Six. The two had survived with each other for ten years as kill team operatives, and even longer if their time in the regular army was counted. His cybernetics and lack of breathing landed him a spot as the team sniper, he was the one who often delivered the shot to put an immortal to sleep for good. Rapture had the highest count of immortals put down out of everybody in the team. His count was ten, which was a pretty big deal since most kill teams could hardly achieve even one. Vincent followed behind him with four immortals. The rest of the team was fairly new and only had one or two immortals under their belts.

"If this immortal is new to the game, then he's bound to make mistakes. This should be a simple job, hopefully we'll only need to be in this 'sand castle' for a short time. Rapture explained, his voice was synthesized much liked Sam's was. It was a quick and easy reminder that Rapture was an ExHuman under that fake skin.

Oshiah nodded to Rapture after the point had been made. "Agreed. Blitz, I want you in the neighbouring districts tracking this kid down while we investigate the apartment block. He might think he's not in any danger and could have left his tracks uncovered."

The operative nicknamed 'Blitz' was a tall and thin man. He stood at six feet and weighed in at one hundred and eighty pounds. Blitz was quick on his feet and could easily outrun an olympic runner if he needed to. Blitz was usually the one to hold chase on a fleeing immortal or to quick relocate and flank a target. He kept his load light, preferring a small laser sub-repeater in place of his rifle. Unlike the rest of the team with their tactical suits, Blitz wore a synth-suit to compliment his high speed, low drag attitude. Blitz was also a natural talker, able to glean precious bits of information by guiding presenting himself in a way that'd appeal to the one he is speaking with. Blitz had been in acting school before he signed up into the military, the guy could pull off any character and any disguise. Him and Spark worked well together as wingmen in the bars.

Blitz nodded to Oshiah's order, "Understood, sir."

Sam reverted back to her human appearance and looked at each masked individual. "This apartment block has the highest likelihood of him Mr. Black being there. Remember, he may be new to all of this, but he is still an immortal. No slacking on this job. As always, our priority to acquire intel first, only engage Dzakar if you feel you have the best opportunity.

Oshiah nodded, then the rest of the team did. Sam smiled, "Good. Then for now, the briefing is over.

Oshiah looked to the rest of the team, "Alright, let's get this place turned into a proper base. Spark, Trapper, you two are setting up the defensive emplacements. Rapture, you're on overwatch. Blitz, get talking with the locals in the neighbouring districts. Thumper, notify mission control that the area has been secured and the powered armor can be transported in. Corners, Yari, you two are on clean up duty. I don't want to see a speck of dust in these rooms."

Vincent and Yari exchanged looks, if there was some joke in Oshiah's command, they didn't see it. Once the team leader left the room, Yari groaned, "How in the hell are we supposed to clean all this fuckin' dust?!"

Vincent shrugged, "Dust pan and a broom?"

Yari sighed and kicked a thick layer of dust toward Vincent, "I can't wait to see the day you develop a good sense of humor, Corners."

Yari was a rather orindary guy. He was mostly human except for some neural upgrades. He was assigned to Kill Team Two-Six after he unknowingly got into a boxing match with an immortal and won. Yari was an expert in hand to hand combat, he had mastered nine different martial arts before joining the military and coming to Kill Team Two-Six two months prior to sweeping inch deep layers of dust off the floor. The man's reflexes were almost on the same level as an immortal. Vincent was always convinced that Yari saw in slow motion while he moved in real time. Every time he tried to spar with Yari, he ended up on his ass in seconds. Vincent liked Yari because he was a team oriented operative, he never kicked his teammates' ass and didn't tell them why. He always showed the others of Two-Six their mistakes and taught them how to properly perform them.

The two looked around for something to start removing the dust, it was going to be a long and graceless task. But somebody had to do it eventually. Vincent sighed, "Maybe Sam could give us an idea."

"Dust pan and broom." the AI said to them.

Yari began to mumble something, "Why that cheeky little..."

In the next room, Vincent could hear Trapper, Spark and Thumper collaborating on where to set up defenses and where to call in the supply drops while maintaining discretion. Trapper was the team's expert in all things hunting. He grew up in the Core Level, learning to hunt from his parents as a means to survive. His family never liked eating processed foods, they always preferred to eat what they hunted. Trapper had a natural sense of direction, the guy never got lost and always knew where to go and how to get there. He could find a trail that nobody would ever notice and track it all the way to the source. Naturally, he was Rapture's usual spotter, using his keen eye to find targets for the ExHuman to pick off. He was the quietest one on the team, in the sense that he spoke at a low volume most of the time. Others in Two-Six would tease him and tell him he'd need to speak up.

Thumper on the other hand had a booming voice that could vibrate a room. He was almost as muscular as Oshiah and operated as the team's explosive expert and logisitcs officer on the field. He was from the gleaming Apex Level and even went to school for Nuclear Physics. Thumper was easily the smartest man in the team, but his large frame and deep voice would portray him as a knucklehead first. It was easy to confuse Thumper's looks and intelligence. He knew how to make explosions from damn near anything, it was almost unsettling. When Thumper had come to the team, Vincent had actually worried that he might one day turn his pillow into a high yield bomb, just to sate Spark's need for comedy.

The operatives of Kill Team Two-Six got to work. Once they managed to build their Sand Castle, they were headed out hunting.

----------

Sel'ket sat in an abandoned apartment across from the refinery. She was listening to an audio recording of the kill team's 'discreet' rendezvous. While listening, she looked out of the window next to her and watched as two pitch black anti-grav gunships flew overhead and dropped four suits of powered armor off. She could see the operatives setting up automated defense turrets and sensors all around the refinery. "It'd be a shame if a wave washed out their sand castle." she mumbled to herself.

Across the dark and equally dusty room, a hologram appeared. It was an AI, unlike the AI the Kill Team had, this one didn't take the form of a human. It was an orb of raw data, constantly changing shape and color as information sifted through it faster than the human eye could see. "Shall I mobilize the Illuminati, Scarab?

Selket shook her head, "Not against the kill team, not directly at least. I've heard this particular team has a bit of a reputation. While I could no doubt handle them, I'd rather not put myself in their hands should they somehow manage to kill me. So, we'll bide our time with them. Pick them off one by one." Sel'ket looked from the window and to the AI, "Sigil, notify the Illuminati of this new immortal. I need whoever that can be spared to the Mantle Level. Tell them to meet me in that one bar in District 20. What's it called?"

"Olympus?" Sigil guessed the bar she was talking about.

"That's the one."

"Understood, Scarab. I am sending the order now."

[Zarkun]

James Gerard, December 15th, 6320--1:46 pm-Oceanic Level--Mariana Trench, Atlantis

James was in the training hall, lifting as he always did after his several mile long run, when Sigil appeared next to him. "Hello James." James shot up quickly, the AI's appearance and voice a surprise with how focused he'd been on his workout, and smacked his head on a hanging weight, illiciting a string of Greek curses before the man spoke English. He was tall, six foot and eight inches to be exact, with black hair with red dye in it, streaked to stay caught up with some of the more modern trends. His eyes were a cloud grey and he was well muscled, with a tattoo in the old Greek language placed just below the base of his neck.

"Ow, sonova-, how many times must I tell you to WARN ME before you appear." The Spartan, rubbing the top his now sore head, released the other side of the pull machine he'd been using and faced the AI. "So what is so important that you have to interrupt my work out now?" James had had several centuries to perfect his American accent and he now had it down perfectly, even though it wasn't exactly necessary. Plenty of odd dialects had sprung up since the different levels had been established, his might not have stuck out. But it wasn't a risk the Immortal was willing to take. The AI, on the other hand, gave an amused chuckle before answering.

"Scarab requires that all Immortals not otherwise engaged meet her at the Olympus in District 20 of the Mantle Level." Shifting from rubbing his head, the pain of which had mostly subsided, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he headed back into the male locker room to get his normal clothes and his spears and shield on. Scarab rarely called for help unless she felt the need was greater than the risk. Not to mention running missions with the Egyptian was always fun.Pulling on his black t-shirt, then pulling up the jeans he liked to wear and doing up his boots before slinging on his shield and putting the two spears horizontally at the base of his spine.

"Tell Scarab Cerberus will be there within the hour and that she'd best not be late."

"Of course, James." The hologram vanished as James headed for the armory. It seemed today was going to be a good day after all.

[Polyurethane]

Aiden stood atop a tower in the mantle, looking down at the city he was in. Off in the distance he saw two ships fly in and drop something off. He was too far off to tell what king of ships they were or what they dropped off but people in the mantle don't get care packages like that. He looked down from the tower, checking the height he was at, then stepped off the edge of the building. Half way down the building two jet's place on his armors boots turned on to slow his fall. He continued to fall until he landed on his feet on the ground. The impact was still significant and caused dust, dirt, and debris to fly up around him. As he started to walk towards where he saw the two spaceships had been, a hologram appeared in front of him.

"Scarab requires that all Immortals not otherwise engaged meet her at Olympus in District 20 of the Mantle Level." Said the blue orb known as Sigil. Aiden checked the location on his map, it looked like it was in the same general area as those two ships were. This probably had something to do with one of the kill teams searching for immortals. Shae was a very skilled woman, most things she can handle on her own. For her to request for assistance must mean this team was a bit bigger and badder than the others.

"Tell Scarab I'm one district east of the rendezvous point, I'll be there shortly." As Aiden said this he grabbed a button from a small pouch at his side and pressed it. Then Sigil disappeared and Aiden jumped into the air. As he came down his hover bike came from around the corner and zoomed underneath him, catching him on the seat. He leaned forward and rode his hover bike towards the rendezvous. A map in his HUD displayed the fastest route to arrive at his destination.

Once he neared his destination he slowed down and dismounted his bike. If there was a kill team here he should try to be quiet, he thought. He pressed the same button and sent his bike away to be stored until he needed it again. From their he made his way on foot to the Olympus. As he was walking he let out a small laugh. He had just barely realized the name and thought it quite funny he was going to Olympus. If only his fellow Romans from ancient Rome knew.

He walked around the corner of a building and there was the sign and door for Olympus. He stopped and stared at the door for a moment before pushing it open and walking into the old bar.

"Hello"

[WilsonTurner]

The quad-engine VTOL transport hummed with vibrant, powerful energy. It was at full tilt, flying at maximum speed with stealth systems enabled, hovering over the trees of the rebuilt surface, hunting like a hawk for its prey. Of course, its prey wasn't a mouse- rather, it was the remnants of another kill team that had just tried to kill. They had been running undercover for some time, now, trying to get close to Zmeis, and succeeded. And, of course, Zmeis had been blocking their communications, so that even if they did send a message- nobody would hear it. Except, like almost every encounter a kill team has had with an Immortal, Zmeis was ready for them, and took down half their squad the moment they started to make their move.

But one had escaped from the fight. She had ran, in a panic, abandoning her squad once she saw that she was the only one left in it. She was support, of course- all the point men were done in the first minute. Zmeis knew that she had weaponry, just not what type. She could shoot him out of the sky, or deactivate the entire vehicle, or even cook him inside if she had one of the microwave emitters.

He was sitting in the cockpit, now, dressed lightly in a synth suit. It complimented by a full tactical set and extra powerpacks. A reinforced module, containing a really, really expensive [and rare, for lack of specific resources] data core and processing unit, was home to a class-4 AI named Monsoon. It was Monsoon who was now speaking.

"Zmeis, Sigil is requesting that all unoccupied Immortals meet her at Olympus. I have routed the coordinates and location to your HUD."

"Monsoon, must you really interrupt me-" "Yes." "-and interject my mission with this? Come now, I'm occupied-" "Correction, Zmeis. You are playing with your prey."

Zmeis paused, and gave that really? stare at the holographic display, where Monsoon's avatar was standing- which was currently a swirling whirlwind of water, wind, and debris. Then he replied, "Fine, Monny, you win."

He turned back to the airship's controls, flipping on infrared and scanning the area below. Finding nothing, he flipped on the EM scanner, and immediately picked up a faint signature. Taking a brief moment to concentrate, he visualized the area, and dropped through the floor of the airship-

And landed three hundred meters away, ten meters in front of a running Kill Team member. She skidded to a halt, her pretty face paling even more. In doing so, she tripped over a root, and fell to the ground, flailing as she tried to push herself away. Zmeis started walking towards her, slowly. It would appear that he was trying to be dramatic, but he was actually summoning all his energy to form a kinetic redirection barrier in front of him. As the Kill Team member hit a tree, and found herself faced with one of the most dangerous men in the world, she whipped out a pistol and started firing.

The first round cut through the branch above her. The second round zhiiing'ed! into the foliage. The third cut through a bush. The fourth smacked into her tactical suit and bounced off. The fifth actually burst apart against the shield, small fragments of the tungsten-core titanium slug scattering across the ground.

She dropped her gun, and Zmeis knelt in front of her, gazing sympathetically at the KT member. "Blessed be those who fight against us, for their purposes are pure, even as ours is pure, for mere mortals could not imagine the danger that they are in, and that for every one that falls to keep humanity grounded, is a million saved. Thank you, Ashley-" The woman flinched at the use of her name, "For being one of those who fights against the great injustice we bring. Sempra-Tor welcomes you to his realm."

And then he drew a knife from his belt, and slowly cupped her cheek in his hand. Her breathing was panicked; she was facing a monster that she could not beat, and they both knew it. She had done wrong; she was destroyed by those that the government hoped she would be destroyed by.

And then she burst out, "Wait! I can help you! Please don't kill me! Look, I just screwed up, they want me dead, please! Lo-look, I have access to information, I can get you in places, just please!"

Zmeis halted his almost religious execution, and stared openly at her. There was already so little that the Illuminati didn't know, but having an active contact within the Kill Team groups would be useful. Even if they know a great deal, she could be useful in the future. And after a moment, he nodded. "I may be a monster, but I am not unreasonable. I would, however, ask a price of you." And just as suddenly as he had dropped into the forest in front of her, he grabbed her outstretched head, which had been attempting to keep him away, and pulled her to her feet. As she regained her feet, he brought up his knife and slashed her hand. From between her thumb and index finger to the opposite-most base of her left hand, he cut through the tactical suit with the ease that comes from a special knife, and a magically-enhanced blade. And then he did likewise, as she cried out in pain; before she could cradle it, he took her hand in his, shaking it.

"A blood pact with one of the demons hisself. I hope you are a good liar, Killer. You're going to need to make up a story. If you need assistance in the most dire of situations, call out for Monsoon's wrath. I will hear. Call me without an emergency, and I will send you to Sempra-Tor earlier than you'd like." He smiled at the terror on the woman's face, and continued, "Aye, you're safe from me, now. Just don't waste my time with nothing. I'll be in touch."

He sprayed medigel from a titanium canister, after taking off her tac-glove, onto her hand, and then wrapped it with gauze. "We got a blood pact. Barbaric, no doubt, but you'd best keep to it. A pleasure meeting you, miss. If you meet another Immortal, and your team is already failing, let them know you work for Sharkovosky."

He smiled, shook her limp, bandaged hand with his still-bleeding one, and then dropped out, into a portal and back into his airship.

"You have a thing for her, Zmeis. I see it now- Illuminati Communist Dragon, brought down by Romance!" Zmeis just snorted, and replied, "I was just about to stick a knife in her, Monsoon. Do you honestly think I would've spared her if I thought her idea other than satisfactory for me? Yes, I did not have to, but she could be useful in the future." "And someone's usefulness is the height of your consideration of them? Oh deary me. I might not last long, then, if you tire of me." "You know, for an advanced AI, you're not that unique, you know." "If I had a heart, it'd be broken right now."

Zmeis snorted again, ordered Monsoon to deposit the VTOL airship to a safe location near Olympus, so he could use it later, and dropped through the floor again.

~-+-~

Olympus wasn't an uncommon place to find Immortals, actually. For whatever reason, it was often the site of multiple Illuminati gatherings and groups, whenever a meeting place outside of a secure base was required. That being said, most Immortals didn't entirely trust the place because it was known, in some lower criminal circles, that they did so. And so many of them, most of those doing so being captured and held in permanent stasis, had small nooks overlooking the bar's entrance. His was particularly high, too high for a sniper to realistically like, but was safe enough and gave an excellent view. Nothing more than a bunch of blankets pushed into a corner like a nest, and a couple small crates of supplies gave away its use as a lookout or hideout.

After checking to make sure that there were no enforcers around, Zmeis took the long way to the ground, exiting his little nook between two buildings, climbing up to the roof, and then using the stairs to reach the bottom and walk across the relatively dark, empty street to Olympus. He walked in, took note of the other residents, some immortal, some not, and walked straight to the bar on the opposite wall, giving one of those special gestures one learns from sticking around for a while.

A minute later saw his closed mouth and tight jaw loosened a bit more, and he swiveled on his little seat, and surveyed the room in more detail.

Then another Immortal just walked in, and said placidly, "Hello."

Zmeis replied, "Hiya. C'mon and sit down, I'll getcha a drink." To his word, he signalled the silent barkeep again, who immediately brought another glass of Zmeis's relatively clear alocholic beverage.

[Whoami]

-- December 15th, 6320 -- 2:20pm -- Mantle Level -- District 20: Club Olympus --

Sel'ket was walking down the sidewalk of District 20's main road. The lighting was poor and the roads were is bad condition. The vehicles that passed were wheeled, only the occasional police vehicles had hover tech. The buildings were in better shape than the abandoned ones in District 20, and the large amount of activity around her made her blend in too perfectly.

Sel'ket wore the same clothes as the locals did. A long duster coat with a small breather mask over her mouth an nose, durable cargo's made for the rugged environment of the Mantle Level, and some steel toed boots. Underneath her open duster coat, she wore a slim fitting burgundy tank top. Her stomach was exposed, her blue and gold scarab tattoo on full display. She received a lot of looks from the men, some from other women, and even more from police officers patrolling on foot.

Tattoos in the Mantle Level were common, most people had at least one. In the Mantle, the detail and quality of your tattoos denoted your social status, wealth and sometimes even your gang or faction, even your occupation. People kept their tattoos on display as both a way to intimidate and to advertise. It wasn't uncommon that crime bosses in the Mantle Level were covered head to toe in tattoos.

"Oi! Scarab!" a deep voice yelled out from behind Sel'ket.

The woman turned and saw a large man headed her way. He had a cybernetic right arm. His left was tattooed with cogs and gears and wires. He wore a simple white muscle shirt, stained with something only Sempra-Tor knows what and dirty from all of the dust in the air. His rebreather was a nose and mouth unit just like Sel'ket's, except a long tube extended out from the side of it and connected to a oxygen purifier that rested on the small of his back. He wore the standard cargo pants. On his left leg was his custom gold plated revolver on display. His right leg carried a knife the size of Sel'ket's arm.

Sel'ket grinned and kept walking forward, making the man catch up. When she heard him just behind her, she spoke, "Hello, Donovan. What are you doing down here in the Mantle?"

Donovan was trying to walk shoulder to shoulder with Sel'ket but the crowd of people around them and her pace kept him from being able to. The big man shrugged, "I came down from the Core Level to pick up some supplies. Our crawler broke down and we've been ordered by some official to clear a landing zone for our facility. They said our facility is temporarily being used as a military training facility." He ran a huge hand along his buzz cut hair.

"Temporarily? How long is temporarily?" Sel'ket asked as she kept on walking.

Donovan shrugged, "They said a month at least, but until the reconfigurations of their nearest training facility are complete, they're stuck there."

Sel'ket couldn't help but laugh, "What ever would you do if a stray bullet caught one of your precious samples?"

Donovan was a scientist. You wouldn't believe it just by looking at the man of muscle, but he was, and he had the intellect to prove it. Sel'ket always had to keep her contacts updated, they came and went as generations passed. Sel'ket liked hearing what Donovan had to say because he always had good information. Though, Donovan didn't know that, the man was completely innocent. Put in harsh terms, Sel'ket used him. She knew Donovan was seriously into her, and that gave her leverage toward learning juicy information. Sure, Sel'ket might have had one night with him, but her golden rule was to never love a mortal.

Donovan groaned at the thought, "They better not! Those samples are some of the most genetically pure samples on the entire level! Took me years to get my hands on that many."

"And how many is that?" Sel'ket inquired.

"Well... Only three bu- Actually that's besides the point! Point is, finding -three- took long enough, okay. Do you know havy many plants are in the Core Level? Enough to overgrow New York City before it fell into ruin. Three is a big deal."

Sel'ket laughed again and rounded the corner. Just across the street was the Olympus. It wasn't as high and mighty as the name made it out to be. It looked like just another dingy nightclub on the street. There was a long line of people waiting to get in, supposedly waiting for some big shot music artist. She turned and looked to Donovan, "Well, Donovan, it was good seeing you again but I got to get to work. I'll see you around."

Donovan looked over to the club and raised a brow, "You know... You've never told me what you do for a living. Seeing you 'go to work' -there- of all places makes me think you're a waitress. But a waitress in the Mantle doesn't make enough money to be packing tech like you do."

Sel'ket grinned again, though her mask hid it from him. "I'm meeting clients in there. They want me to not be late and it's my business to not disappoint them." her tone made it sound like she was an escort, taking clients.

Donovan knew she was teasing him. Sel'ket had too much pride and dignity to whore herself. But he knew the woman wasn't going to divulge her secrets to him any time soon. "See you around, Shae. Don't be too rough on the lads." he gave her a wave and walked down the street, intent on finding parts for his crawler.

Sel'ket walked up to the bouncer, an ExHuman who had a lot more strengh in those cybernetics than they let on. The ExHuman saw her coming and stepped in the way. When he gave her a look only a man could give to a woman, he noticed the Scarab tattoo and quickly stepped aside. "Welcome to Olympus, Scarab. Don't worry, I made sure nobody sat at your private booth."

Sel'ket didn't even regard the man, she just passed on through without breaking stride. The club was dark. Instead of white lights, the room was filled with colors ranging from purples to blues and teals. The music that night was slow and relaxing, but that was going to change once that famous artist started playing. People were everywhere, hanging out in their gaggles, drinking and laughing and flirting. There was a police officer pinning a man to the bar and searching him while his friends laughed. A woman was walking off into one of the back rooms with a man. Another woman that had definitely passed her limit with alcohol was on a table dancing slowly. Good ol' Olympus.

Sel'ket had immediately spotted Zmeis at the bar, talking with another immortal that she hadn't recognized immediately. She was early so she didn't bother with getting his attention right away. Instead, Sel'ket just went to her empty booth and sat on the round seat furthest from the entrance into the booth. "Sigil."

The spherical AI appeared in front of her on the tables central holo-display. There wasn't anything Sigil couldn't use to make a hologram out of. "Yes, Scarab?"

"How many immortals have responded to the call?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"An impressive four!" the sarcasm that the AI used made Sel'ket die a little inside.

[Polyurethane]

Before Aiden had approached the club his armor had retracted so he was in his every day clothes. A pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt. After he had entered the club a man approached him and offered him a drink. He was handed a lowball glass of what he assumed was vodka. Aiden preferred wine, but was never one to turn down a drink. He took the drink and finished it in one swig.

[color=gold]"Thank you friend"[color] He said as he placed down the glass and motioned for the bartender. The bartender came over and waited for an order. "A bottle of your finest wine please, a pitcher of water, and two glasses as well." The bartender nodded and walked off to get wine for the thirsty patron. Aiden had been around for quite some time, but he never bothered to remember a lot of people's faces. Only those who are most important. He gave the room a quick glance then looked back to the man in front of him. "I don't think we've met, The name is Aiden. Aiden Kaiser. Do you like wine?" He asked

The bartender returned with two glasses, a pitcher of water, and a bottle of Satium from the mid 5000's. He grabbed the bottle and noticed a blue orb in the reflection. This wasn't very common in a place like this, he had a good Idea that it was Scarab. He would make contact after he finished talking to the man who bought him a drink, but for now the wine.

Wine had always been Aiden's favorite beverage, mainly due to the significance Ancient Rome had to do with wine. So quality was always a must when he was drinking wine. He poured himself half a glass of wine then filled the rest with water. This was how he had learned to drink wine, and it was the best. Though the Romans didn't know at the time, water and the aroma chemicals were very volatile, and similar to each other. So the water and aroma would evaporate from the wine and make the aroma much stronger and enhanced the flavor of the wine. He took a very hearty drink of wine to tasted then waited for a response to pour his new friend a glass.

[Zarkun]

James Gerard, December 15th, 6320--2:36 pm-Mantle Level--District 20, Olympus

James had borrowed an old Harley from Atlantis' garage, the section that all Immortals took temporary vehicles from, and rode it to the bar, his HV Weave hidden by the duster, heavy cargo pants, and muscle shirt. He had the helmet collapsed within the armor and had a re-breather on that covered his nose and mouth, just like everyone else who was still human down here. Or at least human enough to need the re-breather. Pulling up in an alleyway behind the club, he hid the motorcycle in a dumpster turned on it's front and locked the lid closed with a DNA scanning lock. Sigil wouldn't have been too happy if he lost the antique vehicle. The AI had a strange attachment to them.

Walking around front, he nodded to the ExHuman guard, showing his ID as Cerberus, and walked in, earning a groan from the mortals who'd been waiting to get in. The Spartan couldn't help but chuckle lightly as he went through the doors. This place was always fun. As he entered, he saw two immortals, who's names escaped him, sitting at the bar talking. Well, he wasn't surprised, Scarab did ask for ALL otherwise unengaged Immortals, but he didn't like the blonde, whom he recognized as a Russian. He and Russians had never gotten along, and most meetings with them ended in a fist fight, and that's if they were lucky.

Moving his gaze away from the pair, he settled on Scarab sitting in a booth off to the side, Sigil hovering in front of her from the display. No point in wasting time. Seems she beat me here. Approaching the booth, he slides into the seat across from her before speaking, remaining silent for several minutes. "Good to see you're still here, Scarab."

[WilsonTurner]

Zmeis snorted, leaning over the bar, crossing his arms in front of him. He turned his head to look at Aiden, and gave him a smile. "False; your name is Romulus. For security reasons, I won't say your last name. You really should get your own superintendent; they are magnificent devices, very useful for tapping into the... guild's databases." He nodded at the wine, giving his affirmative, and took a sip when it was poured.

He dipped his head in recognition of the fine beverage; he said as much, before spinning around on his bar stool. Gesturing over where Scarab and Cerberus met up, he asked the Roman, "Let's get this party started, no? Scarab and Cerberus have already arrived." He stood, taking his glass with him, and nodded his thanks to the bartender, who was trying very hard to appear as if he wasn't listening. The man's eyes widened at the easy acknowledgement of his eavesdropping, but Zmeis did nothing.

Maybe if he was lucky, a Kill Team would show up just after they left, and he could take them down, too.

So he led the way to Scarab's booth, and slid easily in next to their impromptu leader. It was, of course, in part because Cerberus was on the other side of him- he had been jumped once, by the guy, and had decided to always keep him in his sights. Another reason was because Scarab didn't bullshit; she gave you what you needed to know, up front.

But he couldn't help it: he smiled and wiggled his eyebrows at Cerberus, before addressing those present- "How are you all doing this fine evening? Fine and well, I hope."

[Polyurethane]

Aiden gave a small laugh when the Russian told him he needed to get his own superintendent. It was true, he had been meaning to but he always managed to put it off. He stood from his seat and grabbed his glass, then looked down at the bottle and pitcher. He could easily carry both but didn't feel like it. He looked from his drinks on the counter to the bartender behind the counter.

"Will you have someone bring this to my table please, I'll be sitting over there with those three. Oh and two extra glasses, just in case" He said pointing out the table. He topped off his glass then made his way to the table. As he got closer he noticed who else had responded, it was the Spartan. He couldn't help but grin when he saw he would be sitting next to the spartan, it absolutely thrilled him. He took his seat next to the spartan, then set his glass down on the table.

"Spartan." He said, nodding in acknowledgement that he was there. He couldn't help but have a smug look on his face as he drank his wine. Though the spartan was much taller than him, and not too mention more muscular, Aiden felt empowered sitting next to the Spartan. Whenever their path's may have crossed it always brought back memories of when he was still a young immortal in ancient Rome. Especially the Battle of Gythium and the Roman's victory over the Spartans. He had always wondered if the Spartan was at that battle, but never wanted to ask. And then when they were just a tourist attraction for the Romans! He always loved to go to those shows when he was passing through. Watching the young boys of sparta put on a show of the former glory that were the Spartans.

Though his feelings towards Spartans were that they were inferior, he knew they were now both on the same team and had to work together. He also knew that one on one the odds of him defeating a spartan weren't very high. So he had much respect for the Spartan as a person, but felt as though Spartans as a whole were inferior. Yes it is contradictory seeing as how he's the only true spartan left in existence, but it's how he feels none the less. At that time one of the waitresses brought over the bottle, the pitcher and two extra glasses.

"I'm well, wine anyone?" Aiden offered as he topped himself off once more with water and wine.

[Whoami]

Sel'ket sat in silence and waited for the others to join her. When they did, she gave them all a nod and leaned forward on the table, wresting her elbows on the surface. "Brothers." Sel'ket started, she was about to say sisters as well but she had noticed she was the only sister. If only Vincent had seen that, he'd tease Sel'ket for the rest of his life.

"I have news. Plenty of it." Sel'ket took in a breath, "Firstly. It seems Kill Team Two-Six is operating in this region. Now I understand that we all have some pent up animosity against them, but I can't stress it enough that we are to not engage them. Two-Six isn't here for us, they're here for the second piece of news I bring."

Sel'ket looked at the four immortals around the table, "It seems Sempra-Tor has graced the world with new immortals. Some haven't reached thirty years of life yet. Two-Six has found one and is moving in to capture the boy. He is inexperienced and capturing him would yield far too much information about us. We have only one option. Find this new immortal before Two-Six does and induct him into the Illuminati. We need to spread false information to Two-Six, put them on the wrong trail."

Sel'ket then smiled, "It would seem our father, Sempra-Tor, has seen how few of us are left. Sigil is actively searching for new immortals as we speak and results are showing from all over the world. They're like baby turtles, however. Now that they've hatched, they're completely vulnerable until they reach the ocean. Many of them will be lost. We need to curve the odds into our favor."

Sel'ket finally took up Aiden's offer for wine. She poured the drink in a glass and lifted it, "A toast. To young immortals." And she drank.

-- December 15th, 6320 -- 3:14pm -- Mantle Level -- District 14 --

"First room... Done!" Vincent cheered as he threw his dust pan and broom on the pristine floor and sat down on a completely dusted off chair. He looked around, "God damn... It only took us two hours..."

Yari groaned, "My back is killing me... How many rooms are in this building?"

"Sam?" Vincent prompted.

"I feel as though I shouldn't answer."

Yari nodded, "Thank you!"

"But I will. You have sixty-eight more rooms left to clean. All of which, are as dusty of this one." the Ai let out a synthesized chuckle.

Vincent groaned and Yari started counting on his fingers, "Sixty-eight rooms, each taking two hours to clean, that's... One hundred and thirty-two hours. That makes... Five and a half days. Fuck! We're going to be dusting for a goddamn week!?"

"I should add that this room is, in fact, one of the smallest rooms in the building." Sam said. If the AI had a holographic body then, Vincent expected to see it grinning.

Vincent gasped and hung his head back, staring up at the roof tiles which were lifted to clean the rafters. "We need a damned robot... Why haven't we requisitioned a damned robot?"

Oshiah turned the corner, "Because robots can be hacked and we don't need one of those going rouge on us during a sensitive mission like this. You gotta do it by hand, ladies."

Yari and Vincent both groaned.

[Zarkun]

James Gerard, December 15th, 6320--2:36 to 3:15 pm-Mantle Level--District 20, Olympus

As the Russian sat down, James did his best to ignore the man's ethnicity, but being Immortal made grudges hard to let go and the Russians were a grudge the Spartan had a hard time letting go of for some unknown reason. Then the Roman walked over, the smug look on his face, and suddenly the Russian seemed like better company. "You would do well to remove that smug look, Roman, or I might just ruin your day for you." This convinced the Roman to sit a little further away and allowed James an easier time listening to Scarab.

While she spoke, he got a waitress' attention and ordered their strongest drink, which arrived just as Scarab proposed a toast. The Spartan, grinning, held up his glass. "Stous néous athánatoi." After downing the glass, he looked at Scarab evenly. "You're aware I am not a man of subterfuge, right? I may not be of much assistance this time."

[WilsonTurner]

Zmeis snorted, and toasted with the rest of them. Downing his glass, he brought it down with an audible clap!, claiming their attention. "Me and my hovercraft can create a diversion- no one outside of very high military operations use such a thing. If I come in, and one of you dressed up right is escorted by another of us more obviously one of us, then we could draw the Kill Team after us, letting them think we have already located and evacuated this young'un."

He slid out of the booth, and waved for another drink from the bartender. Taking the bottle from the man as he went to refill his glass, he slapped a rough payment into his hand, and started drinking from the bottle. About three shots' worth, he came up for air, and glanced at the other Immortals. "What? I think better under pressure when I'm half drunk. And my system's super resistant anyhow. Whaddayall think of my idea?"

As he took another swig, Monsoon started speaking from his speaker. "It would be advisable to create something physical, rather than virtual. The Kill Team is experienced, but will not be able to verify the legitimacy of sudden actions, and will be forced to move in pursuit."

[Polyurethane]

Aiden wiped the grin off of his face and focused on the meeting at hand. A new immortal? Well this would be fun, those don't come around very often. As every one spoke their ideas, Aiden listened and thought about how they could work this together. Sel'ket said we needed to get false information to Two-six somehow. Aside from their data banks where does anyone go for information? The bar keep. Then the spartan spoke up, just like Spartans to be useless. A soft laugh escaped his lips at this thought. Then the other man mentioned a distraction. What if we could combine all of these tactics into one. Leak false information to two-six, lead them away from the area, acquire the target, leave.

"Good Idea, a distraction. But we need to take this one step at a time, first we need to start with leaking false information. And who better suited to leak false information to than the nosy bar keep over at the bar. Open ears mean wandering words, they're bound to ask around and get information from him. So two of us go over there order another drink and talk about this new immortal and his 'whereabouts'. Surely the man will eavesdrop on our conversation and the data will soon reach two-six I'm sure. Russian, you and me can do that. That's not going to be enough though, we need to get them out of this district so we have time to search for the immortal. So what if we watched the area in which we are saying the immortal is and play a little game of cat and mouse. One of us uses a disguise and then get seen by team two-six and run, lead them out of district 20. Once they're out of district 20 whoever is leading them away will lose whoever is chasing them and come back to district 20 to assist us in finding the young immortal. Surely they won't send their entire team after who they assume is just a young immortal, they'll want to keep some members here so we'll still have to be careful. The one to lead them away should be me or the Spartan. I'm smaller, more agile, and quicker than the spartan, but if they catch up he can hold his own if it comes down to it. Whoever is leading them away can use my hover bike if they need" At this point Aiden set the small button that would call his vehicle, down on the table. "Thoughts?"

This all seemed to work out well in his head, now time to see how this would fly with the rest. Leading them away was risky business, but so was letting that immortal get captured. At least if one of us lead them away we can stand a chance, and that's all we needed. A chance.

[Whoami]

Sel'ket stopped to listen to the pointless bickering between the once-Greek and the once-Roman. She rolled her eyes, these people were still arguing over things that happened centuries ago. When threats were beginning to get passed around, Sel'ket interjected, "I should remind you both that we're all brothers and sisters at this table. And that you two should have already figured this issue out before gunpowder was even a thing." The tone in her voice was impatient.

After she got their focus back on the actual topic, Sel'ket listened to their plans. She noted all of the options, "Excellent points by all of you. But it wont be necessary. I've been tailing Two-Six for a while now and I have an insider to feed them misinformation." her eyes shifted from each individual to the next, "What I'm going to need, is one of you to make the false information seem legitimate. You'll need to be present and put up a good chase, make it known to them that you are, in fact, an Immortal. They'll think they're in the right spot. Don't stand and fight, just keep leading them away from the rest of us."

Sel'ket leaned forward on the table, clasping her hands together, "The rest of us will be collecting this new immortal and bringing him back to Atlantis. So we're going to need some fast transport on standby for when we get him. Who volunteers?"

[WilsonTurner]

Zmeis was already raising his hand, speaking up.

"Hey, sure, I got a really big obvious transport right here. And I specialize in teleporting, so getting away should be easy enough. And I'm known to aggravate the Kill Teams- they'll probably recognize me on sight. So, uh, yeah, sign me up for distraction. What's the plan with that? Show up near the newbie, make sure to get spotted, and make to get away and to my transport? 'Cause I can do that."

He took another swig, covering his mouth with his other hand as he let out a silent burp, mumbling a vague "'scuse me." He pulled out one of the Illuminati PDAs- the same one that Monsoon likes using to appear. He set it down, and opened up their maps of the area. Finding the bar that they're at, he started flinging the map around, checking for lookout points, extraction points, and more, marking them all with different colored markers, that showed up as small flags on the screen. After several moments of this, Monsoon used the holographic display to make his avatar appear- really just a swirling bundle of water and debris.

"As Zmeis's Artificial Intelligence, I can ensure that he gets away in the best route possible, while preventing any data loss or unexpected surprises."