Sonya tossed the knife up and down in her hand, turning it over between her fingers. She stared at it for a moment, admiring the white material. She hadn’t brought it out of its case in a while. It was light and harder than anything that Amos had been able to make thusfar. The long bde was somewhere between a bat knife and a machete. She gnced up at the door leading out of her dojo and bounced a bit on the balls of her feet as she pulled up her hud and began putting itings for the doll that would e out of it. The other dolls iest house were non-bat, used for more domestic purposes.

  The ones lined up behind that door oher hand. She popped her neck as the door opened and a doll strutted out, walking with a very familiar gait. In its hand was a knife of its own. It adjusted its posture and stood casually, hand on its hip and knife poi her. The flexible mae waited until she raised her own on, adopting the same pose. They faced one another for a moment before she tilted forward, ready–

  A chime rang in her head and she groaned, “Oh e on! I was just about to-” She bli the name and answered immediately after ging over her voice.

  <”Mister Earl! How are you sir?”> She asked, l her on auring for the doll to leave. It bowed and turned back to walk into the room.

  <”Mistress Ishtar, thank you for taking my call.”> He said stiffly.

  Her lip twitched, <”Prichard, o be so formal, you’re doing good work for me. How are things?”> She asked as she twirled the kween her fingers.

  <”Craig Hart’s pany has been fully acquired by the new shell corporation. At first we sidered liquidating his assets but to be hohere are some iing things in his portfolio,”> Prichard said, sounding a bit more rexed, <”You’ll be pretty ied in some of it.”>

  She raised an eyebrow, <”Oh? Corporate transas do move slowly don’t they, what do you have for me?”> She asked, walking towards her office. The door opened with a hiss and she sent the mental and to pull up a rec of the Olympi one of the ses of s around the room. She sat on her desk as a file made it into her HUD. She ope and sed it briefly. <”What am I looking at?”>

  <”A filtered list of his properties, they make up about twenty pert of the holdings in various tries he’s acquired over the years,”> He said, <”Still a pretty big list.”>

  Sonya raised an eyebrow, <”Your point? What’s the filter?”>

  <”Mana hotspots,”> He said with a ugh, <”Zo a high risk for dungeon formation.”>

  Sonya’s eyebrows rose and a wicked smile stretched across her face, <”Jackpot.”>

  –

  He walked down the hall, his e striking the ground now and then. He didn’t anymore, his trol over his body had improved by leaps and bounds. Even so, he still liked it, it made him feel cssy. He whistled a bit as he made his way along the path, twirling his e between his fingers now and then as he passed paintings. Paintings of himself superimposed in a number of historical events, or just famous paintings. Was it a bit egotistical? Sure, he’d admit to that. Was it also hirious and really tied in this particur hallway’s decor? Absolutely. He snickered a little to himself as he came to a stop in front of a pair e double doors. He gnced back the way he’d e, the high-ceiling of the dimly lit hallway giving it a cavernous feel. He reached out with his e and rapped on it twice.

  A low growl answered him, deep enough to rattle the air a bit, and he brightened. He pushed the doors open and threw his hands open iing. “Pavlov! Daddy’s here!” He called out into the rge, darkened chamber.

  Deep in the dark, a shadow shifted, and a glowing red eye opened. It was huge. Easily the size of a die. The eye swiveled unnaturally in the creature’s head before pointing in his dire. He held his arms open as something big and terrible moved. Its massive bulk shifted in the shadows, a head rger than a riding wurned in his dire. A paw hit the ground and the floor shook ohen again, and again, as the massive thing barreled toward him at full speed. Charo out a ugh as the titanic dog crashed into him, bowling him over and lig his face with a tongue as wide as a welat.

  He kept ughing as Pavlov licked his face, pawing the ground and pressing its nose against his head, huffing and sniffing now and then. “Good boy! Who’s a good boy!” He praised the mighty e, the sole survivor of his initial group of zombies. Out-aging all of his zombies by half a year at the minimum. His rise to power hadn’t been easy, but Pavlov had been his stant panion and ally. He scratched at the beasts fur as the zombified hound nuzzled him, overjoyed at his attentio the side of its head, “Alright buddy, let me up! e on now!”

  It let out a growling “Rowf!” of aowledgement and pulled anting its rear on the ground and sitting up at attention. He had to e his head back to look at it, even as he got up.

  “You’ve gotten big!” He ughed, “You ready for your meal?” The hound barked again and leaned forward, sniffing at him. “You’ve also gotten smarter again,” He pat the side of its nose, “No I don’t have it on me, buddy. It’s ing. So dohe delivery guys, alright?”

  It squi him as if in sideration before huffing out a breath and barking again, sitting up straight and dignified. “Yeah, you’d never eat one of my zombies by act. Not once,” He said sarcastically.

  The hounds head drooped a little and he snickered, “You’re fi wasn’t that big a deal, bud,” He said and looked the creature over. It still looked like a hound for all is and purposes but it was so much rger than any hound he had ever heard of. More importantly, after it had reached six months in age he had felt that he could loosen some of the es between himself and it a act more and more indepely. It was different frramming his zombie puppets, ing up with recs or interpys. No, Pavlov ecial. He wasn’t sure if it was because it was a monster or if it was because of its age, but he could feel it growing smarter and smarter, drawing off its e to him to essentially struct its owy.

  The result of that and regur feedings? The biggest aest boy in the whole wide world, as far as I’m ed. He thought proudly as the doors behind him rattled. He sewo of his zombies oher side and they opehe doors at his whim. Pavlov growled o he gave the dog a look and it settled. The two zombies in suits strode inside, dragging a corpse along with them. A dead-eyed man with a portion of his forearms carved out. Charon rubbed his own forearms and checked the fresh stitg. He was getting good at that.

  “Got something special for you today, Pavvy,” Charon said as the two zombies dumped the corpse on the ground. He kicked it, “This is a heroic-tier vilin who crossed a new friend of ours,” He said with a chuckle and walked around the body before stepping away from it.

  Pavlov she air a him a look. He shrugged at it, “What?” He sneered a little and showed off his wrist, “I just took a little bit.”

  The hound didn’t need any more prompting, it stalked forward and snatched the remains of Gale Forto its mouth, ping down with bone-crushing force before swallowing the body whole. A faint glow burned for a momeh the beasts skin and it let out a heavy breath, tossing its head left and right with a shiver of delight before barking again at him and wagging its tail. He raised an eyebrow, “Don’t get greedy,” He teased the massive e. It let out a whine and he walked over, ing his arms around its snout, “Oh you’re so good! I ’t give you anymht now but I’ll get you something tasty as soon as I ! Good boy!”

  A feelihrough him as he squeezed his panion. It huffed and gowards the doors. He paused as well and turned his head, narrowing his eyes. “Seems we have a visitor,” He said gravely, “Powerful one.”

  He pulled bad straightened his coat as he willed the zombies at the entrance of the Styx to iheir guest to the Large Parlor. He turned and walked out the door as the zombies that had brought the corpse opehem. Behind him, Pavlov lumbered forward, not stopping as it reached the doors and trotted out into the hallway that had been made more than big enough to fit its bulk. ade his way to the end before turning away from the smaller doors that lead into the main hallway of his home. Instead he turned left to ane pair of doors that opened again with just a thought. The two zombies oher side stared bnkly at him and Pavolv as they walked in.

  The Large Parlor was just that, a wide room with a high ceili freeting guests while Pavlov was avaible and giving the massive hound a pce to walk around and do other things besides sleep and py in his room. The room sisted of a false gss ceiling with blue gss arches and lights set up behind them to make it look like daytime. A garden made entirely out of artificial pnts and greenery resent. He’d never sidered himself much of a green thumb and wasn’t going to risk killing a bunch of pnts just to make something pretty. A small creek flowed through it using some of the water from the building’s pipes. At the ter was a gazebo made of white wood.

  He walked towards it with a smirk on his face as he spotted the figures waiting for him. Two zombie guards and someoting in a wheelchair.

  He rest his e on his shoulder and stepped up, Pavlov looming behind him as he alighted on the floor of the gazebo. He cracked a toothy grin, “And to whom do I owe the pleasure?” He said with a dark ugh, looking the person in front of him up and down. It was a bald old man, thin, tired, with gray mottled skin almost like a zombie’s. He had haggard bags under his eyes and a cold expression. His eyes themselves, though, were full of vitality and barely restrained pt. The old man was sitting in a wheelchair with a b over his khin hands with delicate cw-like fingers in his p.

  The old man’s lip twitched, “Are you Ishtar’s middleman?” He rasped.

  Pavlov growled and Charon held up a hand, grinning, “I believe you’re looking for Mephisto, in that case,” He said with a small bow, “I am Charon. Ishtar and I have a partnership but I make my own business, thank you very much,” He corrected the old man before tilting his head and giving the man a vicious look, “You still haven’t introduced yourself, sir. That’s rude. I don’t like it when people do that. It makes me very disined to help them.”

  “I am Blight,” The old man growled.

  Charon blinked and stood up a bit straighter, tilting his head to the left and right, “You? You’re Blight?” He blinked and reached into his pocket for his phone. He pulled it out and tapped away for a moment, mumbling to himself before he pulled up the Pandora’s Most Wanted list. He selected Blight and a picture appeared of a frowning middle aged man with hair. He squi it, then up at the old man, then down again. He pursed his lips ahe picture up o the old man’s head. The old man frowned and Charon barked out a ugh, “Well I’ll be!” He snickered and put his phone away, “You know some people frown upon posting up old pictures on your dating profile,” He said, waving his e disapprovingly.

  “I’m forty two,” Blight rumbled.

  “Eh?”

  Blight stared at him, “My ability reverses damage on things,” He growled, “The sequence is that my body suffers the repair as age and siess instead. I have various forms of cer and my body is withered and broken.”

  Charon raised an eyebrow and gnced back at Pavlov who snuffed ond sat down, staring at the old man. It didn’t seem ied iing him anymore. He turned his attention back to Blight, “So you want healing from Ishtar? Get your youth back?”

  Blight’s lip twitched, “I have a scheme to propose for Ishtar. My youth is just a portion of the deal and wholly unnecessary, though it would expedite things.. It will take time to achieve what I want, more than a year or two at minimum, but I’ve e to realize that I ot achieve my ends without support.”

  Charon was impressed. This guy couldn’t care less about his own body as long as it meant achieving his goals. He stood up straight and adjusted his tie, “Alright, I’m ied. Let’s see if Ishtar would be too. Whatcha got for me?”

  Blight’s eyes narrowed, “There’s a man I want to kill more than anything on this earth.”

  “A single murder? I could just call up the night so-” The old man coughed, loudly, cutting him off. A cough that turned into a peal of wheezing ughter. Charon blinked and his lips dipped into a frown, “You got a problem with the Night Society?”

  “You are suggesting throwing pebbles at a mountaihe old man chortled cruelly, leaning ba his wheelchair, “This person won’t go down that easily.”

  “Who are we talking about?” Charon asked.

  “First Wind,” Blight snarled, g his fists, “First Wind! That insidious wretched maltent!” He smmed his fists on his wheelchair, “He runs arouroying natural wonders and isoted pollutioers to test the strength of his abilities, then he bmes it all on me!” He roared, his fingers popping and crag uhe pressure of his rage. “I may have been an ecological activist at oime, but I stopped my activities after the fsh!” He swore, spitting on the ground, “I’ve been going arou damaged natural sites! I was w on healing the great barrier reef!”

  The old man’s rage alpable, “I heard you wrecked the reef,” Charon said.

  “First Wind!” The old man nearly shrieked before slipping into a coughing fit, “That piece of shit came in while I was w, took pictures of my ship, and then ravaged the reef with his ability! He picks isoted spots to practid train. I’ve been monit him. The damage to the redwoods in California was him too!”

  Charon pursed his lips and gnced back at Pavlov who was ying on his side and paying absolutely no attention at this point. Charon huffed through his nostrils. He was trying to look vaguely ied while he was actually extremely ied. Ishtar had made it a point to give him a list of hat she was explicitly ied in dealing with. Among that list was First Wind. Ead every one of them she wanted some sort of role in killing. He rubbed his neck with his e, though, and tilted his head in thought. If he came across too eager then the man might make more demands than necessary. More importantly, this sounded like the kind of thing that Ishtar should address directly.

  “Hmm…” He hummed, stepping away for a moment and starting to pace, “Let’s say I believe you. Do you have a pn? A higher goal than just killing this son of a bitch? Sounds like you ’t go around healing the world forever,” Charon said, turning ba, “Ishtar likes long term pns too.”

  Blight stared at him for a moment, “I’m putting together a team and a possible successor. We have a few pns in mind t First Wind down, but again, it will take time,” He looked down at his hands, “As for my other activities,” He trailed off for a moment before speaking, “If she deigns to return my youth to me, I’ll not only start healing the world again, I’ll start attag pollutioers again if she wants. I’ll be the bad guy they made me out to be if that’s what it takes to earn her favor.”

  Charon raised his eyebrows and smirked, “You know what? I think we could do business,” He said and pulled out his phone again, “Let me get in touch with Mephisto and you and the dealmaker himself have a little talk. If everything goes well, I might be able to vihe Queen to make a visit. I’m sure her diretervention is much more potent than her age-reversing tracts.”

  The withered ma out a breath of relief and slumped in his seat, “sideration is all I ask,” He said with a sigh, “Thank you, Charon.”

  “Just doing my job, Blight. Regardless of whether or not you’re actually guilty of your crimes, I sider it an honor to be hosting one of the top ten in my club. Shall I set you up with a room?” Charon asked, finishing a quick text message and sending it off.

  Blight smiled at him, “That would be nice.”