Travel was quite fun for Uriel, especially the simpler forms. These… Buggy's new recruits drive, while slower than her usual in every way, gave her the chance to exercise her religious practices, to spread the blessing the Lord had given her. To flex her position was her right, almost expected given her position, but doing it left her feeling a bit filthy. Did she regret her actions? No, this was the best route forward; though, the right decision wasn't always the greatest feeling decision.
She had known traveling to the Beta was a good idea. She had received news of the completed mission far before her team leader, and the knowledge that anyone had been found in that place had set alarm bells ringing in her head. She knew well of that old city’s curse, a hubris that befell them for their arrogance, foolish and gaudy as they were. The thought of anyone finding… Well, anything, was laughable at best, outright dangerous at worst. She had routed the whole lot to the Beta on a whim. She was heading there to see her baby boy anyway, so she would be able to see if it were a scam with her eyes anyway. A small part of her worried that if she didn’t, that if he found it to be a scam… Well, the Beta wouldn't survive his wrath.
Then, she met them.
The description had matched, more than matched, even. Every feature was as he said, down to the last minute detail. Those recruits had told no lie, and she had the fortune of finding it out before him, before Micah. Better yet? He had no clue.
He was swamped at all times: clearing Strata’s, managing relations, killing demons, all that comes with being the strongest amongst humans. The responsible thing to do would be to tell him right away…
But she wouldn’t do that.
It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but it was the right thing for her at that moment. God forgive her, but this was too good a chance to pass up. The power they possess, even in their juvenile state, was more than enough to protect her son, a tantalizing fruit she couldn’t help but bite. Just a few strings here, a few threats there, calling in a favor from her old friend, and a bit more killing than she was comfortable with, and the secret had been buried.
Uriel looks in the distance, her eyes locking on the towering scrapers in the distance. The Alpha Branch was in sight. When she was younger, she had remembered her abbess speaking of the major cities of the world before the Phenomenon. New York City was one of them, and to see it stand even today was something to behold.
It's said if you’re lost at sea to look for the lights of The Alpha, a myth Uriel more than bought into. You could see the lights from miles away, shining like a star brought to Earth, gleaming enough to burn even her powerful retina. Towers spire up like concrete monoliths, as if they were ripped from the earth itself, polished to an exquisite shine. Even from here, she could hear the roaring of the many shipping containers, some of the few overseas Initiatives supplying the ever hungry machine. The Alpha was one of the few cities untouched by the Phenomenon, perhaps boosted in its splendor. It, and the other four Hellfire Mega branches, were sights to behold indeed, the Alpha being the largest of them all.
Her Buggy pulls into the crowded streets, cars humming their raucous tunes out into the world, the smell of petrol stinging at Uriel's sinuses. She crumples her nose, her hand coming to cover her face. The people bustle in crowds through the streets, their chatter nearly as loud as the cars among them, both poor and rich among their ranks. The Lord had not blessed everyone, for blessing everyone makes blessings nothing but common. No reward for his faithful. Still, as his hand in the world, she could bless a few of these unfortunate souls.
She stands as her Buggy grinds to a halt, cars honking behind her, the pile up growing by the second. They know not what they do, but they will soon enough. Her aura expands, a golden light equal to the heavens above emanating from her flesh, the mirage of wings springing forth from her back as she breathes a soft breath, golden dust ghosting from her mouth. To anyone else, anyone sane, she looked to be an angel sent from heaven, her golden eyes radiating pure Synth energy. Those who stood in her presence, those lucky few, felt their aching joints and stray pains fade to nothing, lost in the bliss that was her presence. It felt good to give back to her community, to watch them look to her with such reverence, to see the joy lit up on their faces. Unfortunately, a good moment could not last forever, and she had more pressing matters to attend to.
She tests the mirages of wings, finding them responsive to her call, fluttering like a butterfly readying its flight. Sparing one last glance to the crowd, she takes off, her aura slowly retracting back into herself. She could hear their cries, their pleas for her to stay, to ease their pain once more… But the Lord could not give his blessings forever. Perhaps, after her matters were tended to, she would return to bless them once more, even if just for a short while. She’d have to think about it.
She flies betwixt the spiraling spires of concrete, far from the daily happenings of the unblessed below. It was far easier to find her way, especially with her route already mapped in the back of her mind. The Alpha branch’s home base, unlike the Beta’s, wasn’t just a single gargantuan tower with its… Infuriating staircase. It was, instead, a floating complex of buildings expanding out into the sea. They bob with the calmed waves, Lady Liberty looking down like a sacred protector. It was an ingenious design in her opinion, though Micah seemed to disagree based on his continued absence. Despite being the branch he controlled, he could hardly be found within its confines. Busy as he may be, it was clear to anyone close to him how hard he avoided his "home". That, ironically, made his home base was the best place to have a meeting behind his back.
Slowly, she descends down to the Alpha’s headquarters, entering one of its many metal doors. They slide open for her, her footsteps plinking across the equally metal floor. It was, of course, crowded as usual– expected of the largest Hellfire branch in the world. They parted for her, of course. She was God's hand. To not part for her would be inane. It would cause a stir though, and she would prefer to get in and out before Micah ever knew she was here.
Slipping through one of the smaller hallways, she finds herself face to face with one of the many ID locked rooms. She clicks her tongue against her teeth, her fingers tracing along the cross adorned on her neck. She despised using the Lord’s gift like some common key, but she had to admit its cleverness. The geniuses of Hellfire’s olden days had found ways to use Synth in which Uriel found baffling. Only a handful of the newest generation had even a flicker of the talent they did, though many of them refused to stay with Hellfire. It made sense from a capitalistic sense. Why stay with one place when you could make so much more diversifying? From a moral sense, Uriel just couldn't figure out how they slept at night hurting so many through inaction.
With a small exertion of will, she flexes her Synth Aura, the scanner letting off a small bleep, flashing green as the door slides open, revealing the conference room inside.
A small room, longer than it was wide, stands before her. Its sparsely furnished, the only creature comforts being a small potted plant placed smack dab in the middle of the long conference table. Each conference room in the Alpha had one of the small plants for reasons beyond Uriel. Comfort, perhaps? She didn't know, and she couldn't find it within her heart to care. Charis run down it's length, each bolted to the floor. One who didn't have an intimate understanding of the building wouldn't know, but each is heavily reinforced. More for Gunter's sake than for anyone else's. It might serve that Faraji boy if he ever reached the top. Though the geniuses of the past had faded, the power of the new recruits had risen– the Beta's being especially impressive.
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“You’ve kept me waiting quite a while, Uriel.” A voice echoes out softly, a disconcerting understanding that straddles the barrier between a comforting coo and an unsettling purr.
Uriel raises her head, looking to the end of the conference table. There, sitting in his white robes lined with gold, was one of her fellow Group A members. The eldest of them all, Samson Stern. She could never pinpoint his exact age, and he wouldn’t tell her despite her attempts; though, she always assumed it was somewhere in the sixties range. Older than George, though not by much. His face had no sign of facial hair, though the telltale sign of wrinkles hidden denotes his rapid aging. If that hadn’t given away his advancing age, the white, short cut, straight hair sitting atop his head would, a sign that even the lords strongest soldiers would eventually fall, even if that enemy was time itself. She could hear the soft hum around him like a harp caught in the wind, a note soothing and unsettling in equal parts. He seemed happy to see her, at least. She didn't know if she found that disconcerting or not.
“I apologize,” Uriel says, taking her seat opposite of him. “I had lost track of time in my haste to bless the people.”
Samson lets off a small chuckle, the rhythmic sound filling the room. It reminded Uriel of her old abbess, in a strange way. She didn’t quite know where to place Samson despite working with him for so long… He was an anomaly to her, a strange creature the lord had crafted– given a gift so divine.
“You’re fine. I have all the time in the world.” He waves his hand dismissively, quickly folding them under his chin. “I had already prepared for your lateness anyway, especially given the way in which you decided to travel.”
Uriel nods, her hands folding in her lap, her gaze remaining steadfastly forward. “If there are no pressing issues, may we get to the matter at hand?”
“So hasty.” Samson jests, a twinkle in his weathered eyes. “I suppose so; though, you are more than aware of the subject matter at hand.”
“I have no clue what you’re referring to.” Uriel responds, confidence etched into her tone. She, of course, was not as confident inside. She supposed hiding from his watchful eyes would be impossible. Even if she cut off one of his connections, two more would grow from the stump she wrought. He had been there when Hellfire was built, his roots buried deep within the soul of the Initiative. His eyes were everywhere, and nothing escaped his gaze.
“Lies? From a woman of God?” He questions, his smile ever-growing, shaking the core of Uriel’s being. “I had expected better.”
“I did not come here to confess my sins to you.” Uriel says, her breaths coming in steadying, long draws. She found very few who could tap at the defenses of her emotional barrier, especially when she used her ability. Samson was one of the few, and it was… Annoying? No, something more than that. Frustrating was a better fit, though not enough to encapsulate the true feeling broiling in her gut.
“But sins we share now.” He gestures between the two of them, the rings shining on his slender digits. All were gold, glimmering with the opulence of being. “I am aware of it, as are you. If he were to find out your secret, I would share in the blame. I am, in fact, an accomplice just with this knowledge alone. If Micah were to find out...”
“An accomplice you make yourself. It is my sin alone, one I cleanse with my work.”
“Sins from whom matter not with gods amongst men.” He responds. “Micah would see me struck down if he knew I held such information from him. I am strong, yes– but I see no world in which you or I defeat him in combat, even together.”
Uriel shakes her head, her hand coming to stroke the cross splayed across her chest, a feeling of unease and something akin to… Regret bubbling inside her. “He is no god.”
“But he is no man either.” Whatever levity was in Samson's voice vanishes, a cold calculation etching deep into the syntax of his words.
Uriel bites down on her tongue, a metallic tang permeating through her mouth as she tries her hardest to keep down her own retort. She had seen the man known as Micah fight with beasts, beasts she could not beat alone, even with her current power. The efficiency of his strokes, the elegance mixed with calculating, deft strikes, and the destruction... To compare him to the demons he fought would be more apt than a comparison between any other mortal man.
“...I can see your point, true. Still, I don’t understand what you wish for me to do with this information.” Uriel slowly admits.
“Well, as I am a tangled in your ever-growing web now, I see fit that I know of your plan.” He says, the smile growing on his weathered face. "You do have a plan, yes?"
“You would not benefit from it.” She says resolutely. “It is for my son.”
“Are you planning some arranged marriage?” Samson questions, his eyebrows furrowing. “If so, I could– perhaps– benefit from such an arrangement-.”
Quickly, she cuts him off, her hand raising to end the train of thought he seems to be trekking down. “Seeing them wed is no wish of mine. If it were to come to that, then so be it. My only goal is to see him safe and realized."
“...You are joking, right?” Samson inquires, the smile on his face fading like dust in the wind. Its replaced by an almost indignant shock, his eyes seeming dim in the flickering lights above.
In response, Uriel shakes her head.
Samson slowly leans back in his chair, his eyes affixed to the ceiling like vigilant cameras, his mind lost elsewhere. After a few good moments of silence, he seems to tune back in, a soft sigh escaping his mouth as a hand comes to run down the expanse of his face.
“Such risk for such little reward. There are hundreds you could have asked, yet you choose... Them?” He questions. "It seems so needlessly careless."
“They all have families to back them. I can’t easily silence a whole house as I can a single person.” She says succinctly, her legs crossing as she speaks. “I had already sent them there, and my surety of their true nature was vague until I saw them with my own eyes. They are strong, they are determined, and they seem foolishly gullible to a fault. The reward to my son is greater than any I could’ve given them alone.” She slowly leans back herself, her mind flashing to her baby boy… No risk to great, she tells herself. No risk too great. “As for the risk… They only apply if he finds out. With all his duties and such, I don’t see a world where he catches on in the short term.”
“And once he does?” Samson questions, leaning forward in his chair.
“Then I will be prepared.” She says, a soft glow spreading across her skin. It was a simple message, but one with more weight to it than Samson had expected. He nods slowly, a hand running through the thinning hair atop his head. The gravity was not lost on him, the promise of conflict already brewing in his mind, a conflict that could lead to the end of the Initiative as they knew it.
“That is… Certainly a plan you’ve committed to.” He says, a brewing pot of emotion broiling in him. “I cannot speak on the validity, but the boldness is something I can admire.”
“Thank you, I suppose.” Uriel responds, her hands brushing off her lap as she stands. That was, probably, the end of the conversation. Continuing any further would probably lead to him talking her out, or attempting to. She didn’t need doubt, especially not when she’s already cashed in her only favor with the geezer. He wouldn’t comply with her authority after that-.
“Before you go.” Samson interrupts her thoughts, her head turning to meet his tired eyes. There seems to be a gleam in them, a smile building up on his features. Synth wafts off him like a physical force, warping the decor and walls around her. On instinct, her own golden flare erupts out to meet it, the two clashing in the middle. His hands fold together before his face, rings glimmering every brighter on his fingers. “I believe there's a way we could both profit from this.”
