There was a bench facing 131 Byzance. A lonely bench, on the other side of the street, unaffiliated with any aerobus line, but benches didn’t need any reason for existing. And so, Raime indulged in the bench’s convenient placement. They could’ve probably strolled in, but there was still a moment for them to reconsider going down this path. Being as pragmatic as a reincarnated hero could be, playing in the den of the Pillar of Order, having story times with a war frame that could blow their head off before they could count to two, was a horrible idea of gigantic proportions. Here weighed two noticeable advantages; for one, they were effectively immortal, granted they could live with using the Cors bodies as an escape strategy. For the other advantage, sending the Cors to do some legwork around the Hull could only benefit the district. Raime didn’t think of themselves as a selfless benefactor in that sense, but fact of the matter was that if they decided to give the Capitán the slip, the district would either collapse on itself or drown in Black Lake before too long. A righteous mission, why then were they still sunbathing instead of crossing the doors? Raime had this itching feeling in the back of their head that they were forgetting something.
The building itself really was unassuming, Raime must have walked past it a dozen time without paying it much attention. Like the rest of the architecture in Byzance, the place still exuded an aura of luxury, more akin to what the Glassway offered than the sober and dull buildings of the Fringes, just to the sud of the district. The visible entrance to the building was a half closed courtyard, surrounded by pillars and glass. From where they sat, Raime could only guess as to what the inside looked like. The rest of the street appeared more residential, and the storefronts that stuck out didn’t seem lively. One could wonder if standing this close to the quarters of the Cors were good for business or not. Well, it wasn’t like they flew a banner, the gates weren’t even adorned with spikes or some kind of visual deterrent. Confidence maybe, she could understand the thought, having spent an unusual evening in the company of the Capitán. Unprompted by any other outside forces, the few passerby of the district thoroughly ignoring them, the resolution of their internal argument ended up being solved by their curiosity. They had been invited after all.
Stepping lightly into the courtyard, Raime scouted the entire place, not finding much to stick their eyes to. The place was only gravel and empty soil patches. There was one young human, her hands deep in the dirt. At least Raime assumed she was young, but maybe the oversize coat was a fashion choice, that they couldn’t judge. Even as Raime kept pacing around, trying to find anything noteworthy to look at, the human either ignored them or was too focused on whatever she was doing to introduce herself. Maybe she was seeing something Raime didn’t. Not too close to her, Raime kneeled down dexterously to inspect one of the empty patches. Even after a few days, their body still felt as responsive as ever, holding this kind of exerting stance offered them no discomfort over time. Fully aware that this state of lightness at their core had been to thank for their recent good mood, they felt willing to try out something that they’d have wholly refused before. With confidence, Raime dug their hands in the dirt as well, loosely mimicking the movements they’d seen from the human. Soft, softer than what they were used to walk on in the Minnow Gardens. Lifting a hand full of the dark soil, Raime couldn’t see anything else mixed with it, as if it had been artificially cleaned out. They at least knew dirt was supposed to be full of a lot of things, so that plants could feed. Other things were supposed to eat in the rich soil before, but Raime could only dig so far in the blur of information they couldn’t care less about.
“Who the fuck are you.”
Wide-eyed, Raime swiftly stood up, letting the dirt fall back down. The human had walked up to them while they were stuck in deep inspection. To say she was giving them the stink eye would be an understatement, it was as if the little human was trying to kill them with her mind.
“I got invited…” Raime answered, not carrying as much confidence as they’d hoped.
The human squinted.
“…By the Capitán?” Raime proposed.
“I figured, jackoff, clean your fucking hands.”
With these fragrant words out of her mouth, she headed inside the building. Raime tapped their hands against their thighs to get rid of the dirt, and tapped them again to try and salvage a bit of appearance for their pants. The human didn’t hold the door for them but Raime managed to squeeze past, immediately looking everywhere around. Clean, so clean for such a huge space, a bunch of unoccupied desks made for the most of the decoration. From where they came from and on the opposite wall were glass facades, the building extending to the sides with the pretty beige bricks Byzance was known for. The space in the main hall focused on a central staircase, heading down. Immediately upon seeing that many stations, Raime imagined the Cors were much, much more numerous than they’d thought. The illusion shattered quickly, every desk looked like they were only used by one person. Obvious patterns in how the stations were fashioned, a certain symmetry, a recognizable shadow in every chair. The monitors were all connected together, in a mesh that despite being well ordered, could make the whole floor into a death trap if tampered with. Raime figured the foul mouthed dirt digger wasn’t the one maintaining this space, as she violently kicked a rolling chair out of her way despite it being entirely avoidable beforehand.
They both got down the stairs in silence. Raime didn’t question following her, if the office space had been full of more capable people they would’ve liked to ask more questions, but the few words they had exchanged with the human didn’t motivate them to try and pry more information. The way down wasn’t long enough for them to weigh the pros and the cons, they stumbled onto a large hallway containing both the Capitán and the Major in addition to two others they’d never seen before. All turned to look at them, with varying interest.
“Found them in the courtyard, Capitán.”
Strange, their voice got softer as well. Raime squinted at them in return but the human refused to look at them again. The Capitán was beaming, immediately lifting the unease that tried to creep in. She couldn’t have known it was them that the human had found. Under the artificial lights Raime got a better look at the character. She couldn’t have faked her blindness, her glassy gray eyes reflected nothing, focused on something they couldn’t see. Could she smell them? The thought made them squirm.
“Delighted to see you’ve taken on my offer. Or did you come to refuse? I’m afraid the company wouldn’t be very receptive if that’s the case.”
What could she possibly mean by that? Raime looked at the other two they didn’t know. One, their entire body covered in black robes and their face obscured by a reflective mask, stood not so tall next to the Major. The other, a tall human in a white coat, not dissimilar to the one worn by the small human, not a single noteworthy trait about him except for the mask he work on his visage, separated in half black and white. Even from afar, Raime met his eyes. Unlike the robed one whose face reflected theirs, the human’s eyes were visible from holes in his mask. Eyes of a piercing blue who stared back at them with a surprising intensity. Raime decided to not look at him anymore and focused her attention on the Capitán, visibly truly unbothered by their altercation of the other day. Raime noticed the Capitán wasn’t holding their cane. The ambiance around them didn’t feel like an ambush as well, the Cors were minding their own business.
“No, no, I’m still down. If I wasn’t I would’ve sent a letter.”
“They’re funny,” The Capitán chuckled, turning her head to the Major.
The Major hadn’t let out even the faintest whistle, which Raime got mildly upset by.
“Right,’ The Capitán clapped in her hands, “I didn’t want to call it too soon but to everyone, this is Raime, our official ambassador with the Hull. Raime, the one next to you is Willow and behind me is Armageddon and Doctor Closer, who you might know?”
The weird human in a coat was the Doctor Closer? Since it was the first time Raime even met a Doctor, they could forgive a little the eccentricity but they didn’t look at him again. Armageddon would be the one with the reflective mask, a very ominous name for its holder to offer them a timid wave of hand. Looking back down to her right, the one named Willow was silently grinding her teeth. Their eyes met, and Willow frowned.
“What about Dove?”
Raime didn’t understand the question at first, then, after what could’ve been only a millisecond, their brain short-circuited. Unintentionally wiping so much from their memory of before that day, they had managed to completely forget having even conversed with a member of the Cors. The only one who knew what their purpose down in the underbelly had been, the only one who could recognize them as the sole survivor. But he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there right now.
“Well Dove isn’t from the Hull, Willow, come on. But regardless he took… some time off. Don’t think we’ll see him around anymore,” The Capitán said, waving her hand lazily.
She fucking killed him. Dove failed the assignment he was given with Gale’s expedition and she probably got the Major to lob his head off just like them. Wasn’t this wonderful news though? There would be noone alive to link them to the underbelly. Raime focused on keeping their mouth shut and keeping their reactions to a minimum. They still diligently avoided looking at the Doctor, but even if they kept their eyes away from his, they could still tell he was still gazing intensely. Willow stopped grinding her teeth.
“Whatever.”
Her tone had been so disinterested Raime doubted she had any more affection towards Dove than to them or the chair she’d kicked away earlier. The one named Armageddon still hadn’t said anything, fiddling with their fingers. Raime wanted things to move on a little, their current standing position proved uncomfortable from all angles.
“Can I go back up now?” Willow continued.
The Capitán had sat herself down on a couch that rested in front of a glass window, looking into a white room. When Willow asked her question, the Capitán only snapped her fingers twice and the previously angsty human happily hopped over to sit on her lap. Was the Capitán shooting a smug look over to them? Raime had to bite their tongue to not comment.
“Should this one be listening to us?”
Doctor Closer had spoken for the first time, acknowledging his own existence. Raime felt ambivalent to the idea themselves. Their blood pressure had already spiked this early in the day, giving them a false sense of comfort that things were likely to not get worse, so what harm would be in listening in on information even the Knight could never get their hands on? Raime felt lightheaded.
“I thought about it,” The Capitán nodded, her hands trying to make Willow’s shoulder relax, “But I do want to show some good faith, hm? Raime, how many friends do you have?”
Raime realized that they still had their teeth well embedded in their tongue and almost blurted out gibberish for an answer.
“I have… neighbors.”
“See?” The Capitán smiled earnestly at Closer, “I love people from the Hull. You wanna sit down?”
The question had been aimed at Raime. There was still space on the couch but their crossed eyes with Willow’s, comfortably sat between the Capitán’s legs. She shot them a look of pure unfiltered wrath, the kind of predatory warning that was intent on communicating that she would be more than willing to rip their face off.
“I’m good.”
“Well then, you were saying?”
The stand was left for the Doctor, who seemed to have gotten over Raime’s intrusion easily, despite their incessant gaze.
“Like I was saying, we’ve learned all we could with what we have. Armageddon here has found an important verdict that I’ll share in her stead. While Willow and I have been… experimenting on potential reactions to no avail, Armageddon has been combing through the tangle of DNA every sample contained. Every box, every fiber of mangled flesh contained seemingly random strings of data, as if every single cell had been rewired from their original place to fit its new form. Where she failed to find patterns, she manually rebuilt some samples, to then single out individuals. Ten of them died in the underbelly.”
Raime gulped, not as silently as they’d hoped but noone was paying attention to them at this point.
“Ten?” The Capitán echoed.
“Ten, for the nine assortments of bones we’ve recovered.”
Raime only now remembered the other workers that had been with them in Gale’s expedition. Deep, so deep in denial that they’d silently convinced themselves they had all made it out. They could not stop themselves from listening, but their skin shivered in reaction to something yet deeper inside of them.
“Armageddon’s expertise can only go so far, she can tie the flesh to the bone, single out the DNA mark from the bones we don’t have. But she cannot correlate the data we’ve recovered to match with Last Kunlun’s citizens, unless…”
“Van Kalkain.”
“Unless we had City Hall’s data bank.”
Raime hadn’t seen the Capitán this focused, the name was evading them so they started to lose their grasp on the revelations. They were all so seriously involved, but they had no idea, they couldn’t know.
“My visit Funerarium came to the same dead-end, trying to find people in Last Kunlun goes through the Pillar of Life. No way around it and he’s definitely not going to be willing to let me take a peek.”
“If we ever gain access to it,” Closer continued, “It would take only minutes to find World-Eater, Even if they have taken most of their bones with them, I’ve found a piece of broken up lower jaw that doesn’t fit any of the other skeletons. With this and the remaining DNA strings, we have its trace.”
“A broken off piece of skull,” The Capitán said pensively, “What do you think Willow?”
“No idea why it’s the only part World-Eater didn’t leave with, just makes it obvious it doesn’t have the same free control over its bones.”
“We could make up more and more questions in vain until we get our hands on that data, huh. What about you, Raime?”
“Maybe it sheds?”
All eyes once again fell on them.
“Major, help me out here, you’re talking about the Marrow Knight, right? What we saw in the museum? For whatever reason? Like I don’t judge whatever role-play you people are doing here, no skin off my back. Just because you’re the Cors doesn’t mean you can’t have fun once in a while, I don’t need to be included too I can just go if you want.”
“No skin off my back.” The Capitán was right, they were very funny but right now they mostly wanted to die. The look of unfathomable contempt from Willow could have done them in if they didn’t have the misfortune of meeting Closer’s eyes again, even if only for a second.
“Puzzle games are all the rage these days, has the trend not reached the Hull?” The Capitán broke the silence, her voice wavering while holding down a laugh, “Doctors, disperse, I’ll call you here again once I have new toys for you all. Major, Raime, with me.”
Willow and Armageddon obliged, even if the former didn’t act pleased about it. Closer passed by them to head for the stairs. As they crossed paths, even if Raime intentionally looked away, they could feel his eyes on their back as the Doctor left the hallway.
“Your capacity to adapt to situations is… surprising,” The Capitán said, rising from the couch, “I wouldn’t call you an expert though.”
“Thanks?”
As the Capitán walked past them, Raime shot a tentative thumbs up towards the Major who had yet to voice an opinion. The frame answered with a thumb down and up from his left hand, which only confused Raime. Even if he was gifted with four thumbs, he should still have to choose one to render judgment. Seemingly uninterested in clarifying himself, the Major left his spot in turn and Raime followed, happy to not have to stand between the two of them.
Coming back to the main hall, Armageddon was already slumped over one of the monitors, typing relentlessly on a tablet beside her. Had to be the happier of the bunch somehow, just doing their own thing. Willow was nowhere to be found but where the chair she’d kicked earlier had only been slightly displaced, it was now face down on the ground.
“Where’s everyone else?” Raime couldn’t resist asking.
“Oh, you’ve met everyone. The one that Willow mentioned was a courier I “employed” to not have to stretch my legs too much, but look at me now! Exercise is what life is all about. Come on Major, off to class.”
“Shouldn’t we…”
“I’ll deal with Van Kalkain, the plan doesn’t include you setting a single foot inside City Hall.”
Like when Raime had been ambushed outside the Museum of Mythos, the Capitán waved away the hulking frame like a disobedient child. They felt bad about him, but weren’t sure if the Major could even feel a sense of dejection. Regardless, as the rest of the Cors, he obliged, everyone bending under her words without the Capitán having to raise her voice. Raime wondered, seeing him leave, how did the Capitán even manage to get him under her thumb, surely her proficiency with words didn’t extend that far. Without them noticing, the Capitán had found her cane again, hitting the bottom of it gently against Raime’s ankle. An invitation to follow, most likely. Just like that, Raime understood how easy it was for the Capitán to get her way. Confidence in its purest form, that those who stood behind her would accept their place beneath her order. Well, Raime didn’t mind letting her have her fun. Like Gale and even Dove, they didn’t mind letting arrogant people treat them as if they’re some inferior life-form, especially when all of them were missing a crucial part of the picture. Finally out of the intoxicating air from being around the rest of the Cors, Raime smiled, as they knew she wouldn’t see it.
Author’s Note: This chapter was cut in half because I’ve went to the FF14 Fanfest and didn’t write anything all week-end.