Godclads
Chapter 3-16 Might-Coulda

Quiet Wars are called quiet wars because they can happen under your nose.

Quite literally. That’s the thing about ‘Clads. It’s not the scale of their powers that hurts the mind, but the unnatural angles they occupy.

Knew a Fallwalker who had a Heaven of Filth once, and let me tell you, deep impressions are made when the first time you meet someone is them materializing in someone else's ass while they were shitting.

Never thought I’d have nightmares going to the toilet, but, hey, the hells does an old woman like me know, right?

-Quail Tavers, School of the Warrens

3-16

Might-Coulda

“Didn’t know ghouls could be gentle,” the enforcer said, a note of amusement in his voice. “Or maybe that just you, huh?”

“Just me.” Avo’s Phys-Sim told him that no weapons were trained on him, but the object in the enforcer’s open rig-port was still unidentified. Not knowing what something was got you dead in New Vultun.

The enforcer reached down. Avo tensed, preparing to fire his Celerostylus and jam a shard of trauma into the man standing across from him.

“Long day for both of us, I guess,” the enforcer said. There was something about their voice that evoked a memory in Avo. Something familiar. He thought he knew this thug from somewhere. A clicking sound popped from the enforcer’s exposed port, and he finally pulled the object free. Avo blinked. Was that a cigar?

“You smoke?” the enforcer asked as he lifted his glass helmet off his head. A messy mop of dirty blonde hair appeared. The enforcer had emerald green eyes modded to shine like gems. His face, gaunt and somewhat sculpted, was small of nose and sharp of chin, giving the man a weasel-like appearance. He met Avo’s glare with a wry smile, the expression more befitting a mischievous child than an enforcer of a criminal organization. “I got the good shit: Sanctus Thrills–originally grown hiflass. Turns your skull all jelly-like. Lights the world up.”

The smokable stank of something horrid to Avo. It was like the bladder of a burning dog. Yet, more than the smell, it was the contents of the substance that bothered him. Hiflass was radioactive. Radioactive wasn’t great when combined with a ghoul’s lifespan. “No. Gives you cancer.”

That earned him a laugh. “So does firing a fusion burner. But thirteen surgeries later, I'm still kickin’.”

“Twelve more,” Avo said.

“Hm?”

“Beat you by twelve more.”

“Oh, right, ghoul. Competitive shit, aren’t you. What’s next, you gonna one-up me by dyin’ more times than I can.” Chambers snickered. If the fool only knew. “So. One of my consangs told me that you gave Rantula an ear exam.”

“Friend of hers?” Avo asked, still ready to finish the fight. Chamber’s face was exposed. Fight could be over before it started. No need to waste a ghost.

Chambers barked another laugh. “Rantula don’t have friends. And you can tell her that Chambers said that.”

“Chambers?” Avo tilted. Chambers. He knew that name. One of the Enforcers that came to secure him from the aftermath of the Crucible. Same person?

“My name,” he said, chuckling. “You managed to bully the flat into telling you his right? That’s what you were whispering to him all that time? Trying to get him to empty his sob-sacks about him and his dead boy. Welp. Here’s mine, free of charge.” Chambers shook his head and snorted. “Fuckin’ ‘fugees, consang. Come here with stars in their eyes and end up crying about the ghosts. 'Must be the only one smart enough to sign this deal. Oh, oh, no he’s enslaving me. Oh, fuck me, my son died.’” Chambers shook his head in annoyance, mimicking a man being leashed. “Ah. Poor, stupid half-strands. Fuck do they think that was going to happen?”

It took Avo a moment to realize the man was trying to make small talk with him. And was using speciesism and cruelty as a crutch against lacking substance. Maybe he thought Avo appreciated the topic.

“Harsh,” Avo replied. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ɴøvᴇlFɪre.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.

Chambers cackled, his voice like a hyena. The sound was distinct. Something told Avo that the sound would soon become grating. “What? You one of those Tier Expansionists the Nether keeps whining about? One of them ‘save everybody’ Massists? Shit, consang, tell me if you are, ‘cause that combination is so fucking rare that you might as well be a cryptid. Can get you on New Vultun Sunrise and make a million imps from the finder’s fee for that interview.”

Avo grunted in vague non-acknowledgment. He was dimly aware of what an “expansionist” and a “reductionist” were in terms of political ideology. Something about distributing resources evenly amongst people and opening the Arks or the opposite. There were arguments about public-use Heavens as well, but those were usually more fringe-party items to fight over.

Ultimately, Avo didn’t care too much. Wasn’t represented by either leaning anyway, considering the policies of most Guilds' regarding ghouls were to either regard them as illegal bioforms designed for war and therefore FATELESS by default, or just burn them on sight.

“Going to keep him here for now?” Avo asked.

“Who? The flat?” Chambers shrugged. “Well, someone will probably ask him a few questions and then judge him for what he’s worth. He’s a sheen from the oily shit he sweats, so maybe that’s worth something. Least for lube. Could rub our guns on ‘em; oil them up. Makes him more useful than most flats. Definitely more useful than the floaters. Not the squidheads though. Love me some squidheads.”

Chambers alternated between slurs without hate or consideration. The insults came like breaths to Chambers, as if the refugees coming to New Vultun were unfortunate seasonal allergies he had to deal with.

“Let him live?”

“Yep,” Chambers said. “Survived the Crucible, already, didn’t he? And frankly, everyone’s just gonna blame the dead tech on the Reg, ya know? Tough luck. Die when you gotta die in this city is all I’m sayin’. Fuckin’ Mirrorhead, consang. Half-strand’s getting real lax with our performers these days. Ain’t that many tippers into seeing kids run the Crucible is all I’m sayin’. Cold city, but since the rash, real sore spot opened up there.”

The sudden outpouring of casual indifference toward death was at once unsurprising and confounding. Avo wouldn’t have ever considered a Syndicate enforcer to be particularly open-minded, but something told him that Chambers probably genuinely thought they were bonding over this conversation.

That, and their overt willingness to insult their boss right now. Avo distinctly remembered Chambers sounding terrified after the leader of his extraction team got their head sliced up.

Reminded of Mirrorhead’s power, paranoia ebbed through Avo. He stared, studying the reflections around him as if waiting for the Syndicate boss to manifest. But no one came. Mirrorhead continued to disappoint. No one came. It was just Avo, Chambers, and several idiot enforcers in the background, who were only just now realizing that their rigs were too wide to enter the hab-cell?

“What? You checking for the boss in my reflection?” Chambers snorted. “Don’t worry about that fucker right now. He’s hiding. Clams up real scared-like when the ghosts start whisperin’ ‘bout Guilder ‘Clads marching through the neighborhood.

A lightning bolt of pure focus whipped all distractions out of Avo’s mind. “Godclads? Fighting for Sovereignty again? Quiet War?”

Chambers licked his lips and leaned in. “Word through the Deep-Neth is that Highflame and Stormtree are at it again over Nu-Scarrowbur. Shit, No-Dragons might be in on it too, but we might be lookin’ at the end of the Yuulden-Yang Sovereignty–or a least cutting a third player. Highflame’s been makin’ moves to cozy up to the Dowager again. Really working a lever between the No-Dragons and Stormtree.”

“Why?”

“The fuck you mean why? More death tax. More fuel for the Souls.”

That didn’t make sense. “Too much risk,” Avo said, “could spark another war.”

“Maybe they want to,” Chambers took another drag from his hiflass. “Anyway, while the rumors are a-flyin', Mirrorhead is a hidin’. Something about using his powers gives away his position is my guess. Why else would he be scared so shitless? Just wonder what he did to piss off the other Guilders.”

The last sentence drew Avo’s attention. “Think Mirrorhead was a Guilder?”

Chambers looked at him like it was obvious. “Consang, do you see anyone else down here who wears a suit like his and has a Liminal Frame? ‘Course he’s Guilder. Probably a sixth-gen academy dropout, if that. Explains why he fled out here to slum it with us instead of playing against people in his pond. Too small there, but a giant here. Must feel good.”

Somehow, it still felt taboo to be mocking Mirrorhead in public.

“Relax,” Chambers said. “I’ll let you know when you gotta worry.” Awkwardly, Chambers threw his arm over Avo’s shoulder. He was still shorter by at least five inches, even in the armor. “Fuckin’ ghoulshit. Godsdamnit. Why’d the Low Fuckers gotta make you so tall? What’s the point of that? What’d they think bullets respect height?”

Silently, Avo glared, pouring his disdain into the titanium-clad arm that snaked across his shoulder. Chambers was lucky. For all his chattering, his mouth made more than just noise. The rumors he carried and supposed truths he peddled painted a clearer picture of Mirrorhead now. One that was more understandable.

Without a statement, Avo took a step forward and shrugged the arm off.

Chambers took it in stride, hands returning to pluck the smoke from his mouth. “Not much of a toucher, are we?”

“Don’t want to risk rash.”

Chambers’ face contorted in disgust. “Wasn’t going to touch you that way, consang. Trust me, I wouldn’t be into ghouls–and I definitely ain’t giving you my mem-link.” He snickered, miming a gunshot at Avo, who was content to just glare.

Despite the lingering annoyance, there was something else about this Chambers that bothered Avo. Something that parted him from the other enforcers. Namely, he wasn't scared of him. At all.

Placing the hiflass back between his lips, Chambers eyed Avo with a wry grin. But just as he opened his mouth, he went silent. He shrugged. “Welp. Break’s over. ‘Clads might be clearing out. Got ten minutes before the boss is back to spying on us.”

He shrugged. “Word of advice. What you did to Rantula? Play it off straight-like. Don’t be coy. Don’t bullshit him. Just act real ghoul-like. Her mind’s good and fucked with what you did. Boss is gonna be pissed, but you’re probably safe. He ain’t gonna piss away two investments when you just made sure he lost one.”

Avo grunted. This was expected. Still, the advice was a surprise. Helpful, in a way, even. Playing to Mirrorhead’s ego had been Avo’s original plan, but playing to the extremes might also augment the former.

“Thanks,” Avo said. A drone flew by scanning the area. Chambers looked at the ground, trying to stay silent for once. “Question. Want sleep. Looking for place.”

Chambers nodded. “Well, after what you pulled, I wouldn’t recommend you close your eyes around–” He shot a look at the other enforcers. “--My sort. As I said. Rantula: not many friends, but still, you fucked up a Conflux hitter in front of all the other hitters. Hells, more than that, you made them all think of the bad old days during the Uprising. Not great. Might just end with you suddenly choking on your tongue while asleep.”

“Yeah,” Avo said. He winced. Right. Consequences for the killing. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him till now. Walton would’ve been disappointed. Avo was disappointed in himself. He should’ve foreseen this, even if he wouldn’t have done anything differently.

Running his tongue along the insides of his cheek, Chambers tilted his head at Avo and winked. “I might-could help you there.”

“Might-could?” Avo asked.

“Might-could,” Chambers said. “Same way you might-could do me a favor.”

Expected. Nothing was ever for free. “What’s the dive?”

A broad grin spread over Chambers’ face. “You ‘got’ that shiny new rig that Mirrorhead conveniently stacked in your favor. Well, you or Rantula. Probably didn’t care which of you won so long as the other lived. Anyway, might need you to help me pick up a package. Total milk-run. Trust me.”

Trust was another one of those things that got you dead in New Vultun. But without Chambers, an “accident” might find him while he was asleep anyway. “Better be milk-run.”

“Come on,” Chambers said, putting both hands over his heart. “You’d eat me if I lied to you.”

“Not if dead.”

“Mirrorhead will find a new ghoul to eat me if I lost you.”

Avo paused. That, however, was indisputably true. “Fine.”

Chambers produced a fob of some kind. Avo squinted.“Omnitech Solutions” was burned along its backside, a double-layered infinity sign gleaming.

“It’s the access marker to the busted Galeslither. Inside should still got enough room for even a bean pole like you. Might need to bend those arms though.”

Avo studied his limbs. The length was an old issue. Even now, wearing his new stolen jacket, the garment clung to him more like a vest, his arms far extending the coverage of the sleeves. Avo took the marker and grunted. “Thanks.”

“Jaus, he can be polite too,” Chambers said, waving his hands in mock horror. Avo stared blankly.

“Think you're funny?” Avo asked.

Chambers chuckled. “Eventually. I’m more of a quantity guy than a quality guy.”

“Shows.”

“Fuckin’ ouch, ghoulie. Breaking my hearts.”

“Get another. Where is Galeslither?”

“Six-hundredth floor,” Chambers added. “Just follow the repair drones. Should be covered in a tarp. Ain’t that many actual personnel up there. Not since the Scalpers attacked.”

Scalper. Another Syndicate. The one that fired a missile at them. Conflux had more enemies that didn’t fear a Godclad, it seemed.

Avo shook his head. “No organization.”

“Hm?” Chambers asked.

“Expected some kind of…discipline.”

Chambers sneered. “Mirrorhead don’t want an army, consang. We’re just muscle. We start getting together and actually practicing, we might end up getting ideas instead of just following orders. Can’t have that.”

Avo wasn’t sure what to say about that. Conflux was increasingly looking like an organization that existed despite seemingly no effort being put into its structuring, organization, or long-term goals. It was like the entire Syndicate was just a blunt instrument for Mirrorhead to wield and apply pressure. Something about that idea clung to Avo’s thoughts like tar, but his brain was too fogged with exhaustion to think. He needed sleep. More importantly, he needed to finally sequence his ghosts.

“Going up now,” Avo said. “Sleep. Find me for ‘milk-run’ later.”

Chambers gave him a half-hearted salute. “Hope the boss doesn’t rough you up too much. Maybe next time you won’t be a glassjaw and have a smoke with me”

Avo walked away. “Next time.”

Making his way back to the elevator was more an endeavor of time than it was navigation. Again, Avo questioned the need for one Syndicate to operate an entire megablock, especially with so much of it being outright rubble or blockaded.

By the time he found his way, his want of sleep had become a descending hail weight on his skull. He noticed that his hands were shaking and that his body was shivering beyond his control. A spot of hunger was creeping back into him already. He frowned. That was fast. Probably the symbiote, then. Burning through his metabolism as well.

Again, nothing was for free.

Hitting the call icon, Avo leaned his head against the cold matter of the wall as he waited for the elevator to descend. Too much has happened to him in one day. Too much. Only now did he have a chance to even just think. Reflect.

As the doors opened, he stumbled through and entered six hundred into the interface. Leaning against the rails, he found himself anticipating the rise back past ground level, waiting to study the ebontas again. Better change of scenery than the endless mirror, plascrete, and rusted metal of the subterranean anyhow.

Something cracked next to him. Avo sighed.

By this point, he was too weary to even react in surprise as Mirrorhead slipped into existence through the reflection of the walls to the right. The Syndicate boss adjusted his suit. There was a stiffness to his posture that Avo hadn’t seen before. A projection of rigidity that looked unnatural, even for Mirrorhead.

Like a circling wolf, the Godclad deliberately crossed around behind Avo, a spot of silence and nothing to the ghoul’s senses. Mirrorhead loomed as he passed Avo’s left shoulder, his presence making up for his middling height.

“I heard,” Mirrorhead said, his smooth baritone betraying nothing but coldness, “that you had a busy day.”

Sᴇarch the NʘvᴇlFire.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of nøvels early and in the highest quality.