Blackvein stepped into the open street, eyeing the building ahead, beyond the low fence, beyond the darkened alleyways of a quiet city.

  It was a party palace. It was a monument to decadence.

  The whole place was pyramidal and black, but with balconies that jutted out at regular intervals, all of them lit up with color and letting out the music within. Greenery flowed out of those balconies, and the flowers upon those vines glowed in prismatic colors. Statues to gods and heroes stood everywhere, larger than life, stoic, tastefully nude, and with garlands of flowers haphazardly laid upon their shoulders and heads.

  Fireworks continued to explode overhead, while spotlights pointed up from every corner of the building and the apex, too… But they weren’t fireworks, actually.

  Blackvein focused on those bursts of fire and sparkles of white…

  “VeryHuman,” Blackvein asked, “Is that a fight up there?”

  VeryHuman, AKA Eliot, eyed the sky, his visor flickering with light across his eyes—

  “I have finished analyzing the lenses,” Quark said, as he slipped parts of his body onto Mark’s eyes.

  It was like wearing tactical lenses, but right in his sight. It was actually quite comfortable, too. Mark was pretty sure he had pairs of silver tendrils tracing from the edges of his eyes, up past his temples and into his hair, though. Was it a neat look? Mark wasn’t sure.

  Isoko raised an eyebrow at the addition, though, and smirked. She liked it.

  Sally was focused on the sky, though, alongside Eliot.

  Eliot spoke a line, “Looks like Frozenfire is playing with Credenza?”

  It was not play at all, according to the vectors Mark was sensing. Like, yeah, it was part of the narrative of the night, but also, Frozenfire was really gunning for Credenza. His vector was full of fury and Credenza was enjoying tormenting him. And now that Quark was here, he zoomed in on the fight overhead and Mark could see the fight, himself.

  Frozenfire flew around on explosions of ice and flame, all of his attacks missing Credenza, and Credenza spun on her hoverbelt, easily dodging the flame-driven icicles that Frozenfire sent her way. Tiny peals of laughter carried on the frosty wind. And then Credenza flicked out some grenades from her backpack and Frozenfire was very cautious of those grenades, and then he shot ice at the grenades. Mark was absolutely sure something he didn’t know about was happening, because Frozenfire was surprised way more than a normal sort of surprise when the grenades exploded into fire. The fact that the explosions sent Frozenfire blasting away was not what surprised the guy.

  And now he was furious.

  That fury on his face was not just an act, and Credenza’s laughter wasn’t an act, either.

  Mark had already known it was some sort of fight going on up there, and all of the theatrics of the ‘fireworks’ was a false direction, for when they were setting up for the night he could feel the vectors of everyone in the building up ahead and even in the sky. Credenza and Frozenfire weren’t that high up. But Blackvein had a few cues to hit here and there, and not realizing who was up there, until it was time, was one of those cues. It was perhaps the easiest one to hit, too.

  But now Quark was lining up those cues for Mark, in real time. Those cues stretched out before him, into the black pyramid that Eliot had helped adjust only an hour ago. Quark had taken everything that Noel had told them about the big events and extrapolated it all into… into a lot. Too much, really. As Mark was blinking and whispering to Quark to calm it with the displays—

  Platinum Princess was saying, “What’s a hero doing here?”

  And right on cue, Credenza turned on some magical pulse movers, or something like that, and shot off to the side, away from the party space.

  Frozenfire pursued, right into a ‘trap’ that was set up specifically for him.

  A steel net strung between two buildings closed on him, trapping him, and then Credenza kicked off of a pressure plate on the wall and the steel net zipped down, into the ground, like it was the tongue of a frog-monster reeling in its prey. Frozenfire roared defiance, and then he was in the dark, away from the cameras.

  In reality, and thanks to Quark’s picture-in-eye display, Frozenfire was just down below the streets, in a costume change zone, but he was really freaking pissed off. He didn’t let the guys down there untangle him. He simply evaporated the steel cables off of his body and then he punched a wall and yelled at some guy down there who had been trying to untangle him. That guy down there was wearing a blue and white costume, while Frozenfire was all red and blue. A red-costume guy was over to the side, saying something, and Mark was pretty sure they were part of the ‘Fire Brigade’; Frozenfire’s team.

  Frozenfire was mad, and his team was trying to calm him down, and so…

  Mark ignored that.

  Blackvein had marks to hit.

  Blackvein said, “It looks like he was lured into a trap and nabbed.”

  And then Blackvein walked toward the black pyramid, and his team followed.

  There were hundreds of vectors focused on them right now, mostly on Mark, most of those vectors coming from the Power-inhabited cameras floating all around, now that the prelude with Credenza and Frozenfire was done. Some of those vectors were directly ahead of Mark, inside the statues.

  As Blackvein stepped between two of the larger statues, a grey shadow flowed out from the right one, directly into their path. The shadow resolved into a person in a grey business suit and with a mask that fully covered their face. Their entire body was underneath a grey webweave, and they were rather male-shaped.

  Quark identified the villain as Grey Phantom, which is something that Mark almost knew, but not really. He was one of the supervillains of Memphi, but he wasn’t especially powerful, not like Wandering Sage or Frozenfire. Grey Phantom’s big thing was never getting caught and helping other villains to escape any custody at all, for a price. This guy appearing here wasn’t part of the planned event. Mark had expected to seek out his escape ticket from Collective and hero custody, and he might not have ever found the guy if the guy didn’t want to be found.

  The ‘Attack the Gate’ scenario was rather nebulous in a lot of different ways.

  Grey Phantom said, “You’re bringing down a wrath of heroes on our party, young villains. You should turn yourself in and begone from our lives.”

  Blackvein ignored the warning and implied threat and focused on his goals for the evening.

  Hiring help to attack the gate.

  … But could Mark get Grey Phantom actually on his side, for real? That would be a great win. Though, from what Mark was seeing in Grey Phantom’s vector, that particular ask was probably too large of an ask.

  Grey Phantom was currently cold and anxious. He was miffed at some distant thing, too. Most of his attention was not on Mark at all—

  Oh.

  Mark realized why Grey Phantom was here, in this place, at this moment, instead of deeper in the party, where Mark should have approached him later. A lot later, actually. Grey Phantom was trying to hurry up this meeting so that he could go and do whatever else he had been planning on doing before today’s sudden job came up.

  Grey Phantom was a very busy guy, after all. Or at least that was the information Quark was populating onto his eyes right now.

  Blackvein decided on his plan of attack, then said, “You have somewhere to be, and I can respect that. I don’t want to be here groveling for help, either. But I’m here, and you’re here, and we should discuss plans for the future, for when the gate fully opens and the Two Worlds funnel through my influence. How far does your influence extend over here, Grey Phantom? And more importantly: How much further could you extend your influence with direct help from those on the other side of the gate? I know you are busy, but today is a big day.”

  Grey Phantom arched an eyebrow, which was rather well seen even with his full fabric face mask. He had one of those special fabric masks that displayed what was happening with his face, if he wanted such things displayed. Right now his emotions matched those of his mask. He was surprised.

  His focus slipped away from whatever he was thinking about, to land squarely on Mark.

  Not on Blackvein, either. On Mark.

  The man who played Grey Phantom chuckled once, and then stated, “You’re really getting into this deep, aren’t you, kid.”

  Mark said, “I’d rather not immerse myself in underhanded means, but needs must.”

  Grey Phantom was amused, but he didn’t let it show on his face or in his voice this time, as he said, “My fee for an extraction is 10,000 goldleaf, per person, paid after the fact. If you can’t pay then I throw you right back where I found you. I don’t accept dragon goods, but I will accept cold hard goldleaf.” With a villain’s demeanor, he said, “So don’t spend everything you stole from that bank tonight, young man. You’ll need some later!”

  And then Grey Phantom became his namesake, dissipating into the snow, like he was never there.

  In reality he just phased through the floor, his attention briefly lingering on Mark and his crew before he fully focused on wherever it was he had to be. And then he got gone, absolutely zooming away under the ground. Mark knew that intangibility was a great traveling Power, but he didn’t know it could do that.

  Platinum Princess leaned in a little, asking, “How much did we get yesterday?”

  VeryHuman answered, “160k. A full team rescue is 40k and I will set that much aside, but let’s not need it, please.”

  Miss Masher, whose name had unfortunately stuck, walked forward, the slit in her dress exposing and hiding her muscular legs as she strode forward, her arms and muscles uncaring of the powder snowstorm. With a solid voice, she said, “I smell an open buffet.”

  Blackvein grinned a little as they all strode forward, under the black stone edifice of the pyramid, and out of the snow. The air gradually warmed as the team went further in, the ground transitioning from frozen stone, to damp carpet, and then to dry elegance. They passed an intangible weather barrier of some kind, and then they were inside.

  The carpet was swirled with gold and red. The land beyond was light and sparkles and it smelled of fireplaces and food. Perfume held on the air, wafting from jasmine vines that trailed up the sides of the entryway. Potted plants glittered with light. Some of the plants were specialized cleaner plants, easily seen among the rest based on their tube-like succulent-esque leaves, like open bamboo shoots or sea sponges all packed tight together.

  Mark joined a casual Union of durability and weakness to the cleaner plants, and all the rest that he knew about, and the lights increased. His team was safe enough right now, even with all the paladins mingling among the party. A few people turned their way and Mark wondered if he would need to fight right now, but no one made any aggressive moves, not in person or with their Unions. Messages went out to other parties outside, though; that definitely happened.

  The villains and everyone else mingled, doing business and otherwise, a thousand things happening at once. Not many people actually paid attention to Mark and them. Not really.

  Bouncers stood just inside the building, though, and they absolutely paid attention to Mark and them.

  One of the bouncers stepped forward, asking, “Name and intention.”

  Blackvein stepped forward, for the group, saying, “Blackvein and party here to inquire for services to return to Daihoon through the gate in the north. To attack and capture the gate.”

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  The bouncer pulled back. “By order of the Villain’s Association of Memphi, all are welcome to the festivities, but by joining the festivities you agree to fight off anyone of your own level who might show up to stop the party, and you agree to abide by the Grand Powers Charter of Memphi, of the Central Cities. Such an agreement means that you will always put aside all differences in the event of a kaiju or similar issue, and that you will not endanger civilians in pursuit of your villainous needs. Though heroes will always be empowered to stop us, if they can, it is only through the Charter that we villains are allowed to flaunt normal laws. No killing, ever. Maiming is fine, though; Memphi has good hospitals.

  Blackvein easily said, “I agree.”

  Miss Masher said, “Agreed.”

  VeryHuman said, “Affirmative.”

  Platinum Princess barely contained herself as she said, “Agreed!”

  The bouncer stepped back, clearing the way forward without another word.

  And then Blackvein walked inside, into the full warmth, into the sound of the band thrumming and people talking over high tables as they held small plates with toothpick-stuck food. Flutes of sparkling wine were in every other hand and some were drinking harder stuff at the big bar, slamming back shots of clear liquid that… was not water at all. Those people were getting drunk. Archmage Blackthorn was on a level higher than the rest of the party, to one side of the massive open interior of the pyramid, and doing drugs with a pair of women and a guy. Other people, in the back of the main floor beyond the veils surrounding the party back there, were very much fucking…

  … Uh.

  Somehow, being told that this was a real event and not just an HVP event did not stick until that moment.

  There were drones hovering here and there, and Mark saw dramas play out among a lot of different people and places, like this was one great big HVP show, but a lot of people were just enjoying themselves—

  Quark outlined the various people Mark needed to talk to for their needs, to secure their support for the attack on the gate, but that was only, like… Mark counted. Four people.

  Four people out of hundreds.

  Credenza was playing darts with some guy over at a part of the party, but it was a dart game of throwing the darts, each the size of a fist, at each other, while other people watched and cheered. Mark wasn’t sure about the rules, but he saw Credenza and the crowd cheer, and some point total on the walls behind them showed Credenza as a winner at 200 points, while the other guy had gotten 190. Some of those darts had blood on them, which was… okay.

  Mark was pretty sure that the pain he was feeling from some of the people over there was very real, too.

  Other paladins were already healing those people, though, and Credenza seemed to be having fun with that.

  Frozenfire walked out of a door by the dart game, wearing a ‘costume’ of a black and white striped suit. It was a prisoner’s outfit, and Frozenfire did not need to pretend to not like it; he was and looked furious. But he was there. He was working. He snatched a flute of sparkling wine from a waiter’s tray, and he sighed and put away his anger. He did not want to be here and that fact was probably a whole thing.

  Some guy, labeled ‘incognito’ by Quark, was wearing a very baggy suit and standing by the food. He was built like Sally, with Giant Strength for a Power, and he was trying to hide that strength with those baggy clothes.

  And finally there was a man named Grand Mage Alistair Blackwood, who was in a small group near a window, talking about stuff and eating snacks. Quark labeled him as Archmage Blackthorn’s son and the leader of the Memphi Arcane Council; the ones who oversaw and regulated Mage Society within the borders of the city.

  “… Huh,” Mark said. “I did not expect the archmage’s son.”

  Sally made a path directly toward the food, saying, “And I didn’t expect this spread.”

  Okay, well… Mark had kinda wanted to go to Frozenfire, to ask him what he needed. The guy was angry and Mark could help him pretty easily, he figured. But Frozenfire would keep and Sally was hungry, and the guy standing by the food was as good of a first encounter as any—

  And then Archmage Blackthorn pulled himself away from the arms of a lover on the balcony up there and he looked down at Mark, his attention only barely touching Mark’s way, but then his attention focused.

  “Mark!” Blackthorn called out, his voice rising high above the sound of the music. And then he was flying in the air, across the open space, his black and gold robe fluttering around him. Everyone looked. He was only wearing heart-pattern boxers underneath that robe. Some slippers flew out of the upper wing to fly onto his feet, to slip on right before he landed right in front of Mark. He grinned. And then he startled a little and cleared his voice as he waggled his eyebrows, dropping his voice as he said, “Or should I call you ‘Blackvein’?”

  People were looking their way. Blackthorn’s son was among those onlookers, and so was the guy in the loose-fitting suit by the buffet. Frozenfire was at the bar, drowning himself in drinks and Credenza was headed toward the hero, smiling as she sauntered up to the guy and offered him one of her glasses. Frozenfire was still pissed, but he sighed and most of his anger left him, and then he chugged the offered drink. Credenza chugged hers, too, and then they were drinking by the bar. All of that happened while Blackthorn was still floating through the air, to land in front of Mark and ask his question.

  Sally rapidly rejoined the group, to be there when Blackthorn descended.

  Mark looked at Blackthorn, and answered, “I thought I was working right now, but this is more of a real party than I imagined it would be… ‘Blackvein’ is fine.”

  Blackthorn smiled wide, saying, “Excellent!” And then he put an arm around Mark’s shoulder and gave him a little side hug, which had Mark kinda weirded out, but then Blackthorn chuckled. “Glad to have you, Blackvein.” He let go, and said, “Let’s get you introduced to the Villain’s Association! I think that writer guy has some planned events and you can get to them whenever, but I wanted to introduce you and your team to as many people as possible while you were still here in Memphi, and so that’s what’s really happening tonight— Ah? You want some drugs, first? Social lubrication?”

  Mark easily said, “Shots of whiskey for me and my team.”

  Blackthorn twisted a hand and a tray of shots appeared. Five of them. He handed them to Mark and his team while taking the fifth for himself, saying, “Cheers!”

  Mark downed the drink. It burned slightly, but it was nothing Mark couldn’t handle. It was mostly for the cameras, anyway, and for social etiquette reasons. Would the drink actually affect him? Probably not. Blackthorn hadn’t given them any of the strong stuff. The archmage might be a lush, a slut, and a druggie, but he was still a competent archmage who knew when business was more important than pleasure…

  Probably.

  “Let’s go meet my son!” Blackthorn said, and then he led the way toward the guy that looked like him, but slightly different. “He’s more wooden than me, which shouldn’t come as much of a surprise considering the mage name he took.”

  It was a lighthearted joke and Mark tried to find it funny, but Grand Mage Alistair Blackwood was staring at Mark like he was a problem to be solved.

  “Blackvein, meet Blackwood!” Blackthorn said, “I’m sure the names won’t get confusing at all!”

  Polite laughter from the audience.

  Blackwood said, “Just call me Alistair, and I will call you Mark.” Without waiting for confirmation of his desired naming scheme, Alistair instantly said, “The Collective would surely go easy on you, just as they go easy on everyone of power who skirts the law. ‘The strong are the real first citizens; everyone else has to follow the law’. I don’t appreciate that sentiment at all, but it is a common refrain among villains and other lawbreakers, and that sort of saying strikes me as appealing to you, as it would appeal to all would-be tyrants.” And then he asked, “So why not allow yourself to be taken in for questioning? They won’t do shit, Mark, and it would end this issue right now.”

  Mark wasn’t sure what Alistair’s angle was, but the guy was deeply worried about Mark, about the world around him, about a lot of things. Maybe, if Mark got to know the guy more, he would know what he was worried about.

  But the guy was clearly uninformed if he believed the Collective ‘wouldn’t do shit’.

  So Mark asked a question of his own, “If you weren’t guilty of a crime, and if all the things they charged you with were merely ways for them to control you and yours, would you go along with the law?”

  “Yes,” Alistair answered, without missing a beat.

  … Uh.

  Mark made no attempt to hide his surprise. “Okay???”

  Alistair continued, “A law that is followed by all is the most important thing a society can have. Everything is based on the law. If you flaunt the law, then you shouldn’t be allowed to live in that society, or to benefit from its power and stability. If you don’t turn yourself in or clear your name then I will be pushing for your removal from our Villain’s Association.”

  Like he was standing halfway outside of himself, Mark found his anger rising.

  He was still fully in control, though.

  Mark asked, “Would clearing my name be good enough for you?”

  Alistair frowned. “You’ve already told many people that the dragon teleports metal to you all the time. There is no clearing your name from this, Mark. Kowtow to the Collective and pray for mercy. Gods know that Freyala wants to give you that mercy, for some fool reason.”

  Mark repeated, and stressed, “Would clearing my name be good enough for you?”

  “… Yes, I suppose it would be,” Alistair said, eyeing Mark in a subtle sort of way. He was also casting some sort of magic, or using some sort of weird sense on Mark. It didn’t seem dangerous because Alistair’s vector wasn’t dangerous. The guy’s vector merely fluttered out and around the space, eyeing Mark from multiple angles. Alistair was confused, but he pulled back quick enough, saying, “You truly believe you are innocent of those claims?”

  Mark said, “Nice to meet you. These are my teammates, VeryHuman, Miss Masher, and Platinum Princess. And I think Miss Masher was highly interested in that buffet, so we’re going over there now. See you around!”

  And then Mark turned and walked toward the buffet as Blackthorn chuckled a little and began whispering with his son, who whispered back, and Sally caught up to Mark, her vector a little worried but ultimately focused on the food ahead. Whatever was happening back there with Blackthorn and Blackwood and the other people who Blackwood had been talking to, was now a conversation among them, and them only. None of those people were paladins. Mark thought them all mages.

  Sally got to the line first and started with a plateful of potato skins, while Isoko and Eliot quietly whispered to each other about something, both of them excited about the big guy standing over there…

  Something was up, and Isoko and Eliot had realized something long before Mark did. He looked at the big guy. The big guy had to be 550 pounds or more, and—

  Quark pinged and the ‘incognito’ overlapping the big guy changed into two different names.

  Titanfist, a big time superhero of Memphi, and also Punchman, a small time villain.

  For a moment Mark was a little stunned. A real superhero? Here? Sure, Frozenfire was a superhero, but not really. Titanfist, though! And also a villain? Weird!

  Mark grinned. Of course some people would play both sides of the Hero/Villain Program, and this guy was one such person. Mark had seen Titanfist in action a few times, but not that often. Who could forget the guy who literally grew to kaiju-size to punch a kaiju, as a ‘kaiju’ himself!

  Punchman was a much smaller force upon the world, though. So small that Mark had never heard of the guy, but his uncles probably had. They were into all of that hero and villain stuff.

  Punchman was quietly eating quesadilla triangles as he stood there, not really doing much besides that. He did glance at Mark, though.

  Mark gathered up some potato skins of his own while he quietly said to Quark, “Punchman’s MO?”

  Quark displayed a small blurb on Mark’s eyes that spoke of a guy who just wanted to punch people.

  Isoko spoke up from Mark’s side, saying, “Basic brawn for hire. Respects physical strength.” Isoko leaned in, whispering, “Make Masher fight him.”

  Sally was fully focused on the food, but Punchman was eyeing Sally’s thigh and her big shoulders and arms, and he kinda wanted to fight Sally in a fleeting sort of ‘maybe it could happen’ way.

  Mark took the opening and walked up to Punchman, saying, “Hello, Punchman. I need help attacking the gate. Want a job?”

  Punchman looked down at Mark. He sniffed. And then he ignored Mark’s question and looked at Sally, asking, “She know how to fight worth a damn?”

  Isoko instantly spoke up, “Masher! Wanna fight a guy?”

  Mark nodded along with that.

  Sally was all for it, and rather instantly, too. But she scoffed, and ‘complained’, “I like this dress!” And then she stuffed her face with all of the potato skins on her plate, swallowing them down as she walked toward Punchman, saying, “But I can probably keep it intact.”

  Punchman smirked.

  And that was the first fight of the night, Mark guessed.

  Didn’t take too long at all.