There, sitting in silence, were two women; one who deemed herself a failure of a detective and the other a tempestuous wife.

  Few knew of the secret alliance between Detective Duffy’s department and The Morgens company, with only a handful of trusted individuals made aware of their arrangements.

  Of those, the two heading the alliance, were meeting now.

  The culmination of recent events were what led to this meeting, however, the two women who were the figureheads of their respective agencies were taciturn in nature. No one wanted to start speculative shit flinging that was bound to come, certainly not Rosie, who was content smoking her cigar whilst reclining on the lounge chair.

  “You’re gonna stink up the leather of my couch.”

  So it begins.

  Rosie looked over to Cuddy, who was clinking ice in her tumbler; she poured more of a strong whiskey, hardly diluted and most likely 100 proof. A dull thump of annoyance resounded as she placed her crystal glass down, her eyes sizing up her ‘acquaintance’.

  “You’re a sad piece of work, y’know that right? How in the hell you fuck up catching that piece of shit after all of the work we put in to this crap? Now, not only do I gotta worry about my damn husband, I have to keep an eye out for that roach!”

  Usually able to comport herself professionally, the antics of what could only be called fate led this woman to be at the end of her patience. Whittled and brittled, there was really nothing stopping the ire from oozing from Cuddy’s typically composed facade.

  There was no sting with her comments, however; Unknown to her, Rosie, too, was a woman vexed by the musing of the stars. A long drag of her cigar dulled the edge, but she knew the conversation would nullify the toke.

  Making sure to exhale onto the couch’s leather, Rosie answered to her criticism. “That husband of yours was gonna kill himself one way or another. The man has barely enough brain cells to distinguish him from a child. I would not be surprised if the man was cradled too close to a wall.”

  A prickle and a raise of her hackles simply confirmed that Rosie had hit a nerve; The slighted Cuddy stared with a deep seated rage, her aura concentrating the air around Rosie.

  This broad had the gall to challenge Rosie to a battle of aura; Her, descendant of the Euryale family, known for striking fear into hearts of men with one look alone. Truly, birds of feather with the ilk that was her husband.

  Rosie returned her gaze in kind, and what proceeded was a battle of obstinance, either woman not flinching under the presence of the other.

  A feat worth some merit was the fact that Cuddy had not frozen, even though Rosie had not restrained herself. There were few wills strong enough for that accomplishment, so that was something she was willing to commend her on, however, her overall attitude negated any laudable aspect to her.

  Both were willing to stay within this stalemate for an indefinite amount of time, however, Rosie recalled something that took precedence over her squabble. Taking one more drag before stubbing out her cigar, she let out a huff as she calmed herself to formulate her words.

  “Your husband’s stupidity isn’t what I came to talk about. I need to discuss why the diving bell operation failed.”

  “Cuz your department is full of fuck ups.”

  Not responding to the irritating slight, Rosie simply scowled then continued her point. “I need to speak about what Abel Chatelain said before he escaped.”

  Cuddy had no coy remarks or snarks, her eyes were at full attention as Rosie gave her full account.

  The alliance between the police department of the Bouee layer and The Morgens company was an unconventional one. However, it was not without reason: the first being funding, as the upper echelons of the elite did not see the need for funding those of lower income statuses. The second was the vested interest in seeing specific dealers being taken to justice. Both mutually benefited from their alliance, so any snag or contention needed to be disclosed as both may be affected.

  Abel Chatelain was a law abiding citizen and entrepreneur on the surface, however his involvement with an international crime syndicate posed a problem for both the police department and the Morgens.

  The Morgens had some clashes with the syndicate, so anyways they could legally fight them was highly desirable. It was through their cooperation with the law, and their police reporting which enabled Detective Duffy to make her move.

  It had taken some time, and more of the judges were bought than she had expected, but Rosie was finally able to move in on the roach she was trying to trap.

  There on the day of judgement, she had scouts, officers, and drones encircling the drop zone.

  From their extensive research, Labyrinth technology can only cover a small area of effect. It is an ancient technology which requires quite a bit of energy to replicate. Most people are only able to manipulate 500 square meters, with records of Chatelain’s research only replicating up to 300 square meters of room manipulation. The witness’ testimony corroborated that conclusion, as the two delivering contraband would be forced to walk in what was essentially a small maze. The fact that it only took them 15 minutes to return to their initial starting position once the contraband was delivered made this all the more likely.

  Going off of this information, Rosie had ordered her squads to encircle the area, with the whole warehouse’s perimeter being surrounded.

  The speculated meeting place was surrounded, with officers within 800 square meters of the area. This was far exceeding the radius which was necessary given their research, but they decided to play it safe.

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  That being said, if there were some caught in the radius of Chatelain’s mana manipulation, there were others on standby. Medical and wreckage departments were also on standby. With all of these preparations, the operation was expected to take less than an hour.

  But it was their assumptions that led to their failure. At the dawning hour, when the two ethyreals entered the area of effect, her squadron was able to move to surround them. Closing in, but being careful to not trek too closely, she and her squad zeroed in on the location where Abel Chatelain was hiding away.

  He had to be centered within the maze to manipulate it, it could not be done remotely. So, when they were within 100 meters, all seemed to be going according to plan. That was, until an explosion sounded.

  No one knows who did it.

  Whether it was someone on their or Chatelain’s side could not be investigated as Chatelain was made aware of the operation against him.

  Now, if he had simply fled when he had gleaned their whereabouts, they would have been able to counter that. That would’ve been expected. However, something completely unforeseen happened.

  What their intelligence lacked was vital information: Abel Chatelain had gotten his hands on Pribalic energy schematics. That, mixed with his labyrinth technology created an unholy deathtrap for everyone within the vicinity.

  The energy potential with the amount of ethereals on the property…that could not be calculated for.

  The ‘generous’ radius previously speculated now far exceeded one kilometer; all of the officers who were underground were now well within the labyrinth, at the mercy of Chatelain’s whims.

  Whole squadrons were incapacitated, underage ethereals were used as batteries until they quiemic, and some officers who had been isolated from their squads were killed.

  In the end, Rosie’s squad had to move forward in order to stop all of the chaos. Time was of the essence, so when they finally made it to the room where Chatelain was hiding, there were no holds barred.

  They fought like hell, pulling out all the stops, but none of their attacks felt connected. Chatelain was able to bend the room at will, so it was an uphill battle where they were disadvantaged.

  It was a battle of attrition, with the only thing going for her were the amount of people she had with her at the time. Then, when Rosie finally had him on the ropes, he dropped a single line, which chilled her to the bone. “You got your rats. I’ve got mine.”

  The form he had taken melted away, then the labyrinth reverted to its normal form. A construct made of who knows how much Amberbleu was used as a remote proxy. Whether it was some new technology he had created in secret or the result of illegal use of an artifact didn’t ultimately matter. Abel Chatelain had never been there.

  He had known that the operation would take place and had fled long before anything had taken place that night.

  Even worse, someone within their ranks, a comrade, had betrayed them and tipped him off.

  After recounting the events, Rosie pulled out another cigar, but instead of lighting it, she simply twirled it in her finger. Cuddy said nothing for a long moment, pouring more whiskey into her glass. However, she refrained from drinking immediately, instead choosing to hold the glass as she swirled the liquor around.

  An uncomfortable silence followed, no one dared to speak the obvious truth for some time. Finally, Cuddy took a small sip as she soberly raised the question for the two of them to answer. “So you’re saying since you have a mole, we might too?”

  Rosie cut the cap of her cigar, then proceeded to light it. Smoke melded with her sigh as she answered, “Rat is probably sneaking on both ships. The only ones who knew of this operation were in our personal circles, and there is overlap. Either way, even if there was only one on my side, Chatelain knows of your involvement. He probably knows about that kid too.”

  The kid had done well enough for an undercover witness, but now he had a target on his back. This was personally something Rosie had been avoiding. Luckily, the other kid was likely in the clear, because he was hardly involved with the discoveries. However, now that Zain was joining Cuddy’s organization formally, if anyone recognized his undercover alias, then trouble was sure to come his way.

  “Hmmm- not really my concern.” Coldly disregarding her warning, Cuddy continued to sip on her whiskey. Morally, complete dismissal of a new employee’s safety was questionable, but considering the trouble the boy had caused Cuddy, it was understandable.

  The boy’s inability to think in the moment could be dangerous and cause unforeseen consequences. But, it was impossible to not compare him with another troublemaker.

  If anything, her husband was probably worse in that respect, the only reason she had a vendetta against the kid was because she had no affection for him.

  Suppressing her desire to roll her eyes, Rosie took another drag of her cigar. “So, we need names for everyone aware of this operation, along with any affiliates who the information may have leaked to. This information stays between us, of course. Additionally…” Rosie placed her cigar on the ashtray, then folded her fingers in front of her. “Because of Chatelain's ability to obtain Pribalic schematics...We need to discuss the possibility that the Tarrare syndicate has contacts within Girin.”

  Cuddy downed the last of her drink, then placed her glass at her side. Instead of topping the glass for a third time this evening, she simply took a swig from the bottle itself. Once its contents were emptied, she threw the bottle off to the side, letting it shatter, then she apathetically looked ahead. A few hairs strayed in her little outburst, but she simply pushed them back to place. She muttered a few choice words to herself, before making eye contact with Rosie again. “I know…this is why I didn’t want them to go…”

  Her voice had none of the usual spunk or venom she so naturally assumed, it now sounded like a crestfallen maiden.

  It was almost enough to make Rosie pity her, but past interactions made her understand this was only because of her own inconveniences.

  The woman had truly gone through all contingencies to ensure her husband stayed in place: pressuring all of those he would seek counsel from to give scripted responses, monitoring all of his interactions, and even preventing him from acting alone. All of that could not stop fate from forcing her husband and Zain from meeting.

  It left Rosie to question how the boy had been able to change Devante’s outlook. “What did that boy say to change his mind? No - to change your mind?”

  The boy wasn’t really one with words, and no soliloquy of any sort would sway Cuddy. So how was it possible that this boy somehow managed it?

  Extreme dissatisfaction painted her features as she scowled and darkened her expression. She let out a scoff as she answered resentfully. “I made the mistake of asking him if he would offer his life for another. I was so sure he would cower under my aura, but his response was ‘Everyone deserves a chance to be saved’, and that he would stake his life on that…”

  Ah…that’s how.

  For the first time, in a long while, Rosie let out a childish giggle. She smiled ear to ear; how could anyone predict that response?

  Cuddy didn’t chide or retort, she simply placed her head on her hand, then slightly jutted out her chin in annoyance. “That man still haunts me in death.”

  Pausing her laughter, Rosie agreed with her sentiment. “The one person you couldn’t stand a chance against. It’s no wonder you lost.”

  Grabbing her cigar from the ashtray, she tapped away the cinder at the ends. A melancholic smile lingered on her face, recalling the man of similar strong ideals. His will and morals were passed onto Devante, so to have such a statement parroted to him at the right moment…

  “Fate truly is a bitch…”

  Both women sat in silence, anxiety and unease for what was to come lingered in the back of their mind. It was an itch they could not shake, that something truly terrible was around the corner…