Sinner Born: Part 3
-
Ago, Month of Pluvia, Day Septem
Black Stone: District One, 7:19 PM
The doorbell rang again. After a few seconds, the door flung open.
The building was a roughly made wooden mansion, but the property itself was neat and well kept. Raised planters lined the grounds, the only places where any plant life was allowed to grow freely.
The woman who answered was clearly unhappy. She let out an annoyed sigh when she saw Ago standing there with a deliberately fake smile.
The wrathborn woman at the doorway had long, tufted rabbit ears, a sleek fox tail flicking impatiently, dark gray fur, and gold eyes. She stood on digitigrade legs, giving her a slightly predatory stance, and wore clothes similar in style to Ago's.
Ago: "Kinsman. When I need help the most, I can always count on family."
He waved with his right hand. His left carried a bag, and he wore a backpack as well, both stuffed to the brim with assorted items.
Woman: "Uh, and who do you think you are?"
This time, Ago put on a real smile. Cocky, but genuine.
Ago: "Ago Impellere, House of Impellere, blood of Duellum. I am here seeking aid in combating my temporary homelessness."
Woman: "Explains why you smell like a rat."
Ago's smile faltered, replaced by a wounded look.
Ago: "Hey now. Duellum is good blood and a fine tribe to be a part of."
Her expression shifted, irritation hardening into anger.
Woman: "Then go bunk with them."
Ago: "I am an Impellere. That can't happen."
Woman: "Houses give shelter for less. Besides, I don't know your scent."
Ago exhaled slowly.
Ago: "Perhaps I can speak to the deed owners?"
Woman: "You're talking to me."
Ago: "I'm seventeen. I have to go home eventually, and here I am."
She let out a low, disgusted growl before answering.
Woman: "Ah, right. What about your parents?"
Ago shook his head.
Ago: "Never again."
Woman: "Wretched creature. Too much of a child to even face your core family." She paused. "Fine. You have one day. Then you go home."
Ago gave a thumbs-up and flashed a broad grin.
Ago: "Thank you!"
-
Fero, Month of Pluvia, Day Septem
Black Stone: District One, 7:21 PM
Fero walked up the long driveway to an Onus building complex. Several structures formed the first arc of the family's territorial circle. The road was rough, worn down and broken in places. The yard in front of the main house was somewhat well kept, hardy plants refusing to stay trimmed and several trees lining a more wilderness-like section of the property.
Fero stepped inside. Several kinsmen, each with long rabbit ears and fox tails brushing against the floor, greeted him as he passed. Their digitigrade legs carried them smoothly across the hallway as he returned their waves and pulled a slab of cooked pork from the House fridge. After navigating a few hallways, he found himself in the arms of his wife, a woman with blonde fur and matching hair. As Fero leaned in for a neck nuzzle, she calmly replaced his collar.
Both of them wore collars, as did every mated pair in the world. Their culture made no effort to hide what marriage meant to them: mutual ownership.
Somewhere deeper in the house, Fero's children giggled and began rushing toward the doorway.
-
Servo and Ardea, Month of Pluvia, Day Septem
Black Stone: District Seventeen, 7:21 PM
The pair walked up to a small home. Pine trees crowded one side of the property, while the other was mangy and fenced off from the various animals belonging to the House. In the back, new rooms were being added onto the modest structure, giving it a second story.
Ardea: "I know I've already said thank you, but truly, thank you."
Servo: "Don't worry about it. But where were you sleeping before?"
Ardea tugged at her red scarf.
Ardea: "I... lost my place to stay today. I was going to ask the church for shelter, but it's better to live with a House. Science and all that. Something about how important it is for both species to be around lots of people."
Servo: "Even more so for wrathborn."
He opened the door and led her inside. The building wasn't in great shape. Furniture crowded the rooms, the kitchen floor sagged slightly, and the smell of incense clung to everything. Ardea's eyes moved constantly, taking in several of Servo's kinsmen: a white-furred male whose long rabbit ears drooped lazily, tails twitching with irritation or boredom, and digitigrade legs folded comfortably as they lounged or stared at their screens.
One of them, an adult male who looked strikingly similar to Servo, gave the table a playful bang.
Kinsman: "Servo, already getting married? About time. We don't do well without our other half, you know?"
Servo: "Yes, every wrathborn knows they're on a timer. And no, Ardea here is just a guest."
The kinsman's tone flipped between joking and irritation so rapidly that it was impossible to tell how he really felt. Even Ardea was impressed.
Kinsman: "We don't do guests. What does father think?"
Servo: "I built my room so Grandpa won't mind. That's how he does things."
A few more words were exchanged before Ardea headed toward Servo's room, his scent still cutting through the incense.
Several minutes later, Servo returned with a sleeping bag and a pillow, setting them down before handing her a ham sandwich.
Ardea glanced at it.
Ardea: "Bread?"
Servo: "It's just a little."
Ardea nodded.
Ardea: "Right. Still, thank you. For the food too."
Servo waved it off, already taking a bite of his own sandwich.
Servo: "Don't worry about it."
Ardea watched him for a moment.
Ardea: "Your House doesn't work the way most Houses do."
Servo shrugged, speaking around a mouthful.
Servo: "Grandpa wanted his own Custodia branch. His wife died young, and the kids either left or..." He paused, then sighed. "They all left. The troublemakers just happened to come back."
Ardea caught the edge in his voice.
Servo: "My parents are the worst. I came back for my grandpa, though. Built my own space."
He gestured around the room.
It was newly finished, bright wood lining the walls and part of the ceiling. Cramped, but deliberate. Servo's bed barely fit, with a desk and computer pressed into one corner. Two dressers and a bulky old television took up the rest of the space. The closet was no better, packed with shelves overflowing with board games.
Ardea: "That's... kind of cool. Your room, I mean."
Servo snorted.
Ardea: "Greedborn used to build everything themselves. Burn it all down when they left. No inheritance."
Servo swallowed.
Servo: "A self-imposed dark age. And they still kept pace with nations that didn't torch their past." He shook his head. "People waste what they're given. Still, I'm glad no one wants to repeat that."
Ardea tilted her head.
Ardea: "So what happens to all this in the end?"
They finished eating almost in sync.
Servo: "I'm the only one actually investing in the house. Everyone else is basically a guest." He shrugged. "So unless something strange happens, I inherit it."
Ardea nodded slowly.
Ardea: "That's what I meant earlier. You don't live like most people. Hundreds of family members packed together, and you're here, living small." She paused. "I didn't have much of a family block either. It's... grimly nice not being alone in that."
Servo moved to his game shelf, pulling cases out one by one. Ardea responded with nods or small shakes of her head.
Servo: "Still worse for the greedborn. They started broken."
Ardea: "They're up to six million now."
Servo: "Still small. We went from ten thousand to almost a million."
Ardea grinned.
Ardea: "If there's one thing I appreciate, it's that our kind is very good at making more of itself."
Servo let out a quiet laugh as he picked out a video game to play.
-
Dalia, Month of Pluvia, Day Septem
Black Stone: District Four, 7:25 PM
Dalia's family house was a tall structure that most people would mistake for an apartment building. She stepped off the elevator and walked down the hallway toward her room. A sticky note had been slapped onto her door. Dalia gave it a quick glance before rolling her eyes, peeling it off, and crumpling it in her hand.
Inside her room was a large bed, a computer setup, and a mini fridge. In one corner sat a conspicuously large pile of paper money. Dalia dropped into her chair, powered up her computer, opened a game launcher, and began cycling through her library.
-
Talia and Zev, Month of Pluvia, Day Septem
Black Stone: District Three, 8:00 PM
The police force had retreated, leaving the streets to reel from the damage carved into buildings and roads alike. Only a few scattered flames still burned by the time Talia and Zev returned to Tomer's small home. They stepped inside.
Talia: "Grandpa, I'm back."
Tomer: "Already? What happened to the gang backlash?"
Talia shrugged.
Talia: "We couldn't get a parley and got dragged into more violence with the Red Man gang."
The old man was setting out dishes, ladling thick, sloppy food from his pots.
Tomer: "Must be a bad month for them."
He handed bowls to the two.
Tomer: "I'd better set some traps, then."
Zev: "Hopefully they've forgotten about us with the police invasion and all the sketchy stuff they're involved in."
They sat and ate quietly, spooning rice and meat soup from their bowls.
Tomer: "What are they involved with this time?"
Talia's spade tail flicked with a hint of pride.
Talia: "Project Inheritance."
Tomer paused, thinking, then continued eating.
Tomer: "Yeah... are you two actively fighting them? Because there's serious power behind that."
Talia: "We know. And we plan on stopping whatever their secret plan is."
The old man sighed and looked at his granddaughter.
Tomer: "I thought fighting gangs was the worst of it. Are you sure you want to stay in this fight?"
Talia's expression softened.
Talia: "I'll admit Zev and I probably don't need to keep fighting the Red Man. But I think we can do some good by knocking down their patron."
Tomer shook his head.
Tomer: "If you wanted benefits, you'd have joined Project Inheritance. Their whole purpose is to prop up us greedborn. When I blew up their building, it was because I found their methods evil." He paused. "I just hope you're fighting for something other than benefit."
Talia tilted her head.
Talia: "Wow. The Project must be really bad to get you, of all people, to say not to fight for benefit."
A bit of laughter followed as they continued their meal.
-
Month of Pluvia, Day Octo
Across Black Stone, Morning
Ago arrived at a construction site, paid the taxi driver his fare, then stepped out with a backpack slung over his shoulder. Nearby, Servo was approaching from his parked truck.
Servo: "Oh wow. You're on the Mercenary Ready list too?"
Ago: "Got to make quick money somehow."
A large, bulky construction crewman walked over to meet them and quickly explained their job: clearing debris and cleaning up the area.
-
Dalia ate noodles and meat for breakfast while watching the news on her computer screen. Political commentators debated the ethics of large-scale police crackdowns before the broadcast shifted to a report on a break-in at Warehouse 414.
Dalia giggled like a fiend.
When the segment moved on to general news footage showing the warehouse tunnels wrapped in police tape, she couldn't help herself. She laughed outright, kicking her feet in unrestrained glee.
-
Fero clacked away at his computer, comparing names from a list Dalia had compiled with a police document labeled Suspects. He submitted a page of requests and, once cleared, headed out with a rookie greedborn officer in tow, driving to various residences.
Most people were uncooperative.
The third name on his list belonged to a male greedborn.
Greedborn Male: "If you don't have a warrant, I ain't talking."
Fero: "We don't need a warrant to talk to you."
He sighed, already disinterested. The day was not going how he'd hoped.
Fero: "We're investigating a break-in at Warehouse 414 and gang activity in the warehouse tunnels."
Greedborn Male: "I'm not talking to any police without my lawyer."
Fero sighed again.
When he would finish invesatigating the people, he would focus on another list, a list of illegal goods that were intercepted on their way to District Three.
-
Ardea crossed her arms in mild annoyance. She was standing in a park with Vola, the classically blonde-furred wrathborn now wearing something eye-catching: purple, form-fitting, and revealing large patches of fur, with stripes and bows wrapped around her tail.
Ardea: "I just wanted to know if the gangs were leaving you alone."
Vola handed Ardea a violin and grinned.
Vola: "Right. And I've had no trouble at all. Now come on, let's earn you some money."
Ardea sighed, traded her red scarf for the violin, and hopped up onto the base of a large water fountain.
-
District Three was in a state of recovery. Gangs had scurried away, and distraught residents continued with their lives. People still needed to eat. Still needed to work. Neighborhood conditions didn't change that.
Talia worked alongside her grandfather while Zev walked the streets, asking questions.
When Zev returned, he shared what he'd learned.
Talia: "Back already? What's going on now?"
Zev: "All the gangs are quiet. Red Man, the Crawlers, the Reapers, Fourth Street Terrors, even the Shot Callers. Quiet. Like, not even patrolling their territory."
Talia paused, thinking it over.
Talia: "These people are bloodthirsty. Killing for no reason is their pastime. Did the cops really hit them that hard, or is this tied to the Reclamation Engine?"
Zev shrugged.
Zev: "All I got is that they've gone underground and aren't coming out. Whether that's pain or plotting, I don't know."
-
Month of Pluvia, Day Novem
Across Black Stone, Throughout the day
Church services ran throughout the day. When Fero arrived with his family of twelve children, along with several siblings who had families of similar or greater size, they took up nearly half the building's capacity. His family was deeply devout, even the children showing keen interest whenever Year 0 of After Campaign came up.
-
Ago chose more casual, less intimidating clothing as he spoke with fellow churchgoers, building rapport before carefully revealing his situation and mentioning his living conditions, fishing for someone willing to offer temporary shelter.
Everyone he asked somehow gave the same answer.
"For an Impellere? Not this time."
Ago muttered to himself.
Ago: "What in the silvered dirt is my tribe doing these days?"
-
Talia worked the streets, trading material goods for other material goods until she had assembled a sizeable collection of merchandise. She brought it to District One, where a friend bought the items off her. Zev stayed nearby the entire time, usually carrying boxes or keeping watch.
The buyer was a wrathborn man, short by wrathborn standards, with typical blonde fur and hair but striking green eyes.
Wrathborn Friend: "You got Mouse Girl Beach Cards?"
Talia: "I didn't have much to go on, so I bought a whole tray for half a silver."
The man took a deep inhale, then examined the anthropomorphic mouse girls printed on the cards. After a moment, he nodded.
Wrathborn Friend: "That's actually a fair trade. There are a lot of season one girls here. Each goes for about ten Papers these days. If there are at least two hundred season ones, which it looks like there are, that's your money back already. And that's only a tenth of the stack you brought."
-
Servo wasn't thrilled to be at church, but once he closed his eyes, he could feel his soul being fed by the spiritual light. That calm was eventually broken when Ardea and Dalia appeared, Dalia seemingly materializing out of nowhere just before mass began.
The church near Servo's home was one of the few that had a wrathborn priest. Servo didn't dwell much on religious politics. The integration of wrathborn into the priesthood of the True Light had been a long, bitter struggle. It made little sense to him why it had taken so long to accept wrathborn priests at all. Perhaps it was the greedborn tendency toward possessiveness, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that greedborn followers were dwindling again. Even with a five-million-person population advantage, it seemed nearly all the faithful these days were wrathborn.
After the service, Servo attended the church breakfast, eating as much as he could before several adults gave him pointed looks that clearly meant enough.
Ardea: "If you're done eating, Dalia is here."
Servo's fluffy tail bristled in displeasure.
Servo: "Dalia, did you track us down or something?"
Dalia shrugged and flashed a devilish grin.
Dalia: "There's only one church out here in the middle of nowhere. I'm just lucky you two came to early mass. But enough about my sleuthing. Let's talk about Fero's investigation."
The trio was already walking toward the exit as she continued.
Dalia: "From the time I spent in the warehouse, I pulled a list of emails and notes from various people. Lawman Fero is having trouble getting information, so I think the Party should do some forceful, yet legal, probing."
A voice called out from behind them.
Priest: "Uh, excuse me. My fellow Fervidus tribe member."
The priest, a tall wrathborn with gray fur and fox tail tucked neatly behind him, raised a hand in greeting. His long ears twitched as he listened to Ardea's response. Ardea tugged at her red scarf, almost like a nervous tic.
Ardea: "I'm not really part of the tribe."
Priest: "Oh. A splinter House?"
His tone brimmed with curiosity, while Ardea's edged toward shy discomfort.
Ardea: "I've long since been abandoned by the blood of Fervidus."
The priest's expression shifted sharply, almost aghast.
Priest: "By the One God, that's horrifying. I didn't even know wrathborn orphans were possible. Are you... doing alright? Do you need-"
Ardea could already smell what he was circling toward.
Ardea: "I don't need an adoption, and I doubt you even own land."
The priest looked away awkwardly.
Dalia: "Despite most greedborn living in broken tribes ourselves, the benefit of self-ownership is that we actually have to buy property as adults. There's a weakness to communal living."
Ardea: "Something. Anyway, back to the topic at hand. I'm old enough to own property and have children, so adoption isn't needed."
Dalia tilted her head.
Dalia: "Though seventeen is a bit young to have children, yes? Even younger than for a greedborn."
She received several odd looks from the three wrathborn.
Dalia: "What? Oh right. You've got that biological melting thing."
Servo: "Twenty may be our full adulthood, but our bodies don't recognize that. We need to have children early to complete maturity growth, or a variety of negative conditions set in."
Dalia: "Right, right. I knew that. So, Ardea, regale us with your tragic tale."
The priest waved his hands quickly.
Priest: "Oh no, you don't have to, kinsman."
Ardea rolled her eyes.
Ardea: "My father was awful, threw me away, and now I'm here. Nothing special." She turned back to the priest. "You smell desperate. What is it you actually want?"
The priest introduced himself as Luceo Fervidus and explained his predicament.
Luceo: "The lower tribe is locked in a contested inheritance dispute. I'm looking for any Fervidus kinsman to help resolve it. You may be abandoned, but your blood could still hold influence."
Servo and Ardea leaned in, sniffing him carefully.
Ardea: "What are you hiding?"
Servo crossed his arms.
Luceo: "Violence is going to break out soon. If more bodies contest the claim, then hopefully the Main Branch won't resort to physical confrontation. Also..." He hesitated. "Since I didn't recognize you, I hoped you were part of the lower tribe and could reinforce their block."
Dalia: "By Holy Light. Bloodline politics really do exist."
Servo: "And this is as simple as it gets."
Luceo studied Servo more closely.
Luceo: "You're Custodia. Someone in the main branch had Custodia blood. If even one Custodia showed up, even with a petty claim, it could stop escalation. No one wants to pull in another House, let alone a tribe."
Dalia: "Yeah, Servo. Just bring your whole tribe down."
Servo sighed, his tail flicking.
Servo: "No one would entertain foreign tribal claims. And my splinter House is severed from the Black Stone Custodia tribe."
Luceo: "Wow. Well... maybe the blood is close enough? Maybe you could smell around and find some relation?"
Servo and Ardea chuckled.
Servo, joking: "A claimant? Your plot has been revealed."
Then he straightened.
Servo: "I'm not sure. If there is a connection, it'd be at my grandfather's level at best. That's the minimum required for me to even show my face at an inheritance gathering."
Ardea: "Maybe one of us could get something out of this feud."
Servo nodded.
Ardea: "When is the next meeting, and where?"
Dalia's spade tail twitched with concern.
Dalia: "I'll... just ask Ago."
Servo: "Wait. Give us a minute first, then we'll do our quest."
-
Month of Pluvia, Day Decem
Across Black Stone, Throughout the day
Ago stood over a table where a young, red-skinned greedborn was eating breakfast. Zev was dressed slightly less like a thug than usual, holding Dalia's phone and recording the conversation with the stiff focus of someone pretending to be a professional cameraman.
Ago: "As I said, I'm a journalist."
The conversation didn't last long before the greedborn grew tired of talking, but Ago managed to extract one useful piece of information.
Red-Skinned Greedborn: "No one even knew what was going on in those tunnels. How am I supposed to be guilty when not even the higher-ups knew? They're in full panic mode."
Nearby, Fero, his rookie partner, Dalia, and Servo sat at another table, listening as discreetly as possible.
-
At another listed individual, Dalia was the one prying for information. In practice, it was more like the dark-blue-skinned greedborn was spilling his secrets entirely of his own accord. Once again, several members of the Party were nearby, this time watching a live feed from Fero's phone as Dalia wore a tiny hidden camera.
Dalia munched on fries while the greedborn man ate sausage.
Dalia: "No way. Like, oh my goodness."
Greedborn Man: "It's true. You don't need employees when you can just pay temp workers. As long as it's under five thousand Papers, it's all legal."
Dalia leaned into her flirty persona, even her voice carrying a soft, almost eager tone.
Dalia: "But don't corporations have to write all that down? You know, taxes and stuff?"
The greedborn man smiled confidently, fully convinced the woman across from him was captivated by his cleverness.
He leaned back in his chair, sausage forgotten as he rolled his wrist in the air, like a conductor guiding an orchestra only he could hear.
Greedborn Man: "See, that's the cute part. Everyone thinks it's about writing things down. It's actually about getting other offices to spend the money. Temporary transfers. Shared initiatives. Little favors between departments."
Dalia tilted her head, fries paused halfway to her mouth.
Dalia: "Getting another office to spend the money?"
He chuckled, low and pleased, his eyes flicking briefly to her lips before returning to her face.
Greedborn Man: "Most departments get their budget and spend it on whatever they want. No one asks questions because it's protocol. It's how things have always been done."
Dalia's smile widened, soft and impressed.
Dalia: "That sounds... risky."
He shrugged, confidence dripping from the motion.
Greedborn Man: "Only if someone actually orders a full audit. And nobody ever does. Not when all the expenses look the same."
He leaned forward, voice dropping as if sharing a private confession.
Greedborn Man: "Besides, if something goes wrong, the temps disappear. Paper trail ends. Worst case? Someone pokes around District Three, asking about thugs no one wants to talk about, or digging through prisons full of people nobody bothers to defend."
Dalia let out a breathy laugh and shook her head.
Dalia: "You make it sound so easy."
His grin sharpened.
Greedborn Man: "That's because it is. Everyone's too lazy to chase conspiracies."
-
Finally, Servo tried his hand at gathering information.
At a burger joint, Servo slapped two plates of food onto a table, sliding one toward a dark-green-skinned greedborn.
Servo: "There you go."
The greedborn seemed shy, though more from the awkwardness of the conversation than anything else.
Servo: "Like I was saying, my friend and I are in deep trouble. I don't know if I'm going to prison, and she'll get fired at minimum."
The greedborn nodded and started eating, slowly warming up to Servo.
Green-Skinned Greedborn: "Yeah, you two are in a lot of trouble."
Servo: "See, that's why I'm asking for help. What evidence is there? Who do we talk to?"
The dark-green-skinned greedborn leaned closer, his small backward-swept horns catching the light, tail coiling behind his chair as he whispered.
Green-Skinned Greedborn: "Don't worry about the police. We have an inside man."
He straightened and resumed eating.
Green-Skinned Greedborn: "I wouldn't talk to anyone else, though. It's random who even knows what's going on. Not the top people. Some mid-levels, some laborers."
Servo had already eaten three burgers when the greedborn paused, glancing down at his own first burger, still only half-finished.
Servo: "I'm not, like, part of some conspiracy, right? If anything goes down..."
The greedborn smiled, his tail flicking with confidence.
Green-Skinned Greedborn: "Alright, alright. If you start seeing arrests on the news, or cops snooping around your business, there's one person you can meet who'll help."
When the conversation ended, Servo regrouped with the others, evidence in hand.
-
The group gathered around a park bench as Fero went over the evidence.
Dalia: "So... did we beat the bad guys?"
Fero's tail flicked side to side.
Fero: "No. The video evidence technically isn't usable in court, but it does justify warrants. We'll have arrests. As for what Servo uncovered, it shows the people in charge have no idea some of their departments are being used for illegal activity. We can even add Ago's information to corroborate that." He paused. "What matters is that we have links, and there may be a dirty cop involved."
He turned to Zev.
Fero: "Don't tell Talia. I'd hate for her to be right."
Zev gave a faint grin.
Fero: "Now we wait and see what our meeting with a CEO gives us."
-
Servo, Ardea, Dalia, Month of Pluvia, Day Undecim
Black Stone: District Nine, 1:02 PM
Despite being far from the main body of the city, the sounds of trains and transit lines carried through the air, completely ignored by the woodland animals nearby.
A massive barn stood ahead, hosting a gathering of at least three hundred wrathborn. No one paid Ardea or Dalia much attention, but Servo drew looks. At one point, a man stepped directly into his path.
Tribal: "You lost, foreigner?"
The man was slightly taller than Servo and wore a fine, tuxedo-like suit.
Servo: "Custodia go where we please."
Servo wore a gray tank top and sturdy blue jeans. Ardea was dressed similarly, except her tank top was black and her red scarf still hung around her neck. Dalia, as always, wore what she pleased.
The tribal snorted and leaned in to take a deeper sniff. Dalia raised an eyebrow, more amused than alarmed at being a greedborn surrounded by casual wrathborn customs.
Tribal: "You smell close. What, no other Custodia want to butt into land they don't own?"
Servo shrugged.
Servo: "Which Custodia House has the claim?" He waved a hand. "Never mind. I'm here to collect in the name of my bloodline. That's all that matters."
He offered a smug look, then hesitated.
Servo: "Actually... seriously. Which House has the claim?"
A few wrathborn nearby chuckled.
Luceo soon found the group and guided them toward several of the main contenders. After some pointing and discussion of proposed resolutions, he asked a question.
Luceo: "Ardea, have you figured out who you're related to?"
Ardea scowled, the expression reflexive rather than aimed at Luceo.
Ardea: "A few questions and a good sniff confirmed what I already suspected. The Primary Fervidus House."
Luceo's jaw dropped.
Ardea: "If I hadn't been thrown out, I would've had a very slim chance of inheriting the tribe as the primary title holder."
Talia blinked, confused.
Talia: "You're related to the head House?"
Ardea: "Not directly. I'd be considered a side branch. But one that would have been living in the main House, which means I'd still have rights to property if things didn't work out with the rest of the tribe."
Luceo recovered from his shock.
Luceo: "She could have legally taken several cattle from this inheritance dispute, for example."
Talia was still untangling the family tree.
Talia: "So... cousin?"
Ardea: "Niece."
Luceo nodded.
Luceo: "Most of the side branches of the main House already left Black Stone. That gives you some pull. Not much, but enough that someone will ask for your support."
Luceo then turned to Servo.
Luceo: "What about you?"
Servo: "I asked around too. I have the right scent, but as I expected, the inheritors are from the main House. They want nothing to do with my grandfather's rebellion." He paused, then smirked. "That said, I can make a stink just to cause chaos."
Luceo tilted his head.
Luceo: "But you're tribal royalty like Ardea, right?"
Servo laughed nervously.
Servo: "Two generations removed, maybe? I appreciate the optimism, but I'd be shocked if anyone seriously entertained my claim."
-
Servo, Ardea, Dalia, Month of Pluvia, Day Undecim
Black Stone: District Nine, 1:56 PM
Eventually, Luceo had to leave. With no claim of his own, he asked the trio to remain behind as a bulwark against any violent schemes before disappearing into the crowd.
Left without a guide, the trio wandered only for a while before being approached by the side-branch coalition. A man known only as the President had succeeded in uniting the wronged Houses.
He was a classically blonde wrathborn, fur and hair both pale, with blue, catlike eyes. However, he was short, nearly Servo's height, lacked the usual wrathborn muscle definition, and, more oddly, had a slightly rounded belly.
Servo leaned closer to Dalia.
Servo: "Remember our earlier conversation? When wrathborn don't start having kids as soon as they can, women get brittle bones. That's what happens to men."
Dalia considered him for a moment.
Dalia: "Well, at least he's the head of whatever alliance this is. But what are all these Houses even doing here if this is just about inheriting land and... stuff?"
Servo: "Two reasons. First, have you forgotten how many kids we can have? Eighty on average, fertility dropping off around eighty years old, that sort of thing. Having anyone remotely related to the original owner makes inheritance messier than the Dark Age the greedborn went through on Ashurat."
Dalia: "As opposed to the Dark Age that happened here on Nevar?"
Ardea: "Fair point, but that's not what Servo meant."
Dalia waved a hand, smiling as her spade tail flicked upward, clearly joking.
Servo: "Second reason, and the main one people are here. Take the President." He pointed toward the massive barn where the crowd had gathered. "I heard he built that barn himself. He might not be related to the inheritance, but the agreement was that the structure is his. Like, if it were possible, he could pick it up and take it home."
Dalia: "Ah. So everyone here has invested money, sweat, maybe even blood into this land, and now they're being told to leave."
They'd been overheard.
President: "That's correct, ma'am. Everyone here wants their due if the main House is reclaiming the land. We only ask that our investments be respected, or bought out."
His demeanor was unusually gentle for a wrathborn.
Dalia: "That seems reasonable."
The President smiled warmly and motioned for the trio to come closer.
President: "By scent alone, I can tell two of you belong here. You must be the ones Luceo brought."
Servo was about to speak, but stopped. As the most foreign presence, he let Ardea take the lead.
Ardea: "You may not remember me, but I was brought to every House, every Fervidus family. No one took me in. I am... unhappy with how my blood treated me."
The President's expression softened, his posture sagging slightly before he straightened.
President: "Yes... I remember now. Those were complicated times, and most House heads have since changed. As the representative of the lower tribe, I formally recognize you as Fervidus."
Servo and Ardea reacted with practiced neutrality. Dalia, however, looked faintly disappointed. She'd expected tears, drama, something cinematic. Instead, everything was stiff and procedural.
Dalia: "Is that because you need all the manpower you can get?"
The President didn't bristle. His scent and posture remained calm.
President: "Abandoning a child was wrong. Fortunately, if memory serves, her father has long since joined his wife in heaven. Whatever resentment you hold toward him has no living target." He paused. "That aside, there is no political gain in recognizing Ardea. If she wishes to live on the land, I am simply willing to house her."
Ardea showed little emotion. Servo, however, smiled.
Servo: "Hey. You've got a home now."
Ardea's body remained still, no scent shift, no tail twitch.
Ardea: "I'm sorry, but I won't build my life on the name Fervidus."
President: "Understandable."
The conversation became harder to maintain as others pressed in.
Concerned Wrathborn: "Why should we forgo our claims to the land?"
President: "Because the first side Houses hold the claim, and our inheritors moved to the lesser houses."
Another voice cut in.
Angry Wrathborn: "The Upper Tribe already made their demands. What makes you think they care about us?"
President: "Our kin would never discard decades of shared labor and blood ties for a forest and five thousand bovine."
From the side, Servo muttered,
Servo: "Oof. That's actually a lot. The first side House must've been the main ranchers."
Dalia: "A forest and cattle." She tilted her head. "Weird combination."
-
The barn doors swung open with quite the force. Wrathborn, even from this small amount of the overall tribe, could be seen with their varied looks. Fur colors are mostly blonde, gold, and tan that all fit for stalking in a savanna, but also reds, grays, blacks, spotted, striped, and even some full white fur. It is difficult to point out family units when so many colors and patterns exist. However, in large groupings there was some slight uniformity in houses, such as the Head House, with most of its members being some color of gray, just like Ardea.
The trio waited as the meeting formally began. The mated pair who ruled the Main House stepped forward, offered their opening formalities, explained the purpose of the gathering, and then demanded a swift resolution. That final demand immediately set many of the wrathborn on edge.
Ardea: "Wow. I guess all my immediate family members are the worst."
Servo felt a wave of shared discomfort, strong enough that Ardea glanced at him.
Servo: "I thought my family had problems."
A red-furred wrathborn male shouted from the crowd.
Red Wrathborn: "We demand continued shared deed ownership!"
The masters of the Main House stood together. The male was towering, gray-furred with black spotting and white hair. His mate was equally tall, her fur a pale canvas tone, her build as powerfully athletic as any wrathborn female.
Another red-furred male spoke up.
Red Wrathborn: "We don't even care about the Fervidus Fumo holding the primary right!"
Voices overlapped, arguments branching and colliding. Dalia quickly lost track of the ever-growing list of demands, while Servo and Ardea focused on who was speaking and who was listening, tracing alliances by posture and scent. Amid the noise, they caught the names of the Head House masters.
Vigor: "We refuse to surrender any rights to our land."
The barn went silent. Fur bristled, ears flattened, and the air thickened with outrage.
President: "You can't steal what we built here."
Mira: "You built it on our land. That makes the buildings and projects ours by default."
The crowd split. Roughly half clustered behind the Heads, some grinning with excitement or thinly veiled deceit. The other half gathered behind the President, reluctant but resigned, realizing their alliance would now have to hold.
The arguing continued until attention drifted toward where the trio stood. Voices took turns, until eventually Servo stepped forward.
Servo, cocky but unmistakably juvenile: "Since no other Custodia has shown up, I'll take their dues."
He extended his hand, palm open. Confusion rippled through the crowd before understanding caught up.
Vigor: "Your tribe has no pull here. Not again."
Servo: "Nitor is my grandfather. That gives me reason to stand here."
Inside, Servo could already hear imagined laughter at his own absurd claim.
A member of a side House spoke up.
Side House Member: "I remember Nitor Custodia. He was my uncle."
Servo stiffened as more voices joined in, murmurs of recognition spreading. His grandfather, rebellion and all, was clearly well remembered.
Side House Youth: "But who are you to claim any rights?"
Servo: "I am heir to Nitor Custodia Viridis Vulpes Expeditio. Even as a splinter House, I will be its lord one day."
Murmurs deepened. Some nodded. Others thought hard. The two masters exchanged glances before returning their attention to Servo.
Vigor: "None of our Custodia siblings bothered to attend. Therefore, you may speak, young heir."
Servo's thoughts spiraled. I have no claim. What are you talking about?
He kept silent, trusting that his service to his grandfather carried more weight than his doubts.
Mira: "Name your price."
Despite the sudden shift, few people truly watched Servo. Only the President studied him closely. Then Ardea stepped forward and pressed her face against Servo's, rubbing along his cheek.
Servo startled, but held himself still, sensing intent.
Ardea: "Do not forget me, fellow kinsmen. I remember your faces. I remember how none of you spoke for me when I was abandoned at the Last Curtain. I demand satisfaction. I demand vengeance."
Her voice, her scent, her emotional center were perfectly aligned. Convincing. Dalia watched as if glued to a drama serial.
Dalia, whispering: "Plot twist."
Servo understood immediately. A Fervidus aligning with a Custodia heir, even a splinter one, created leverage. Unfortunately, he had no idea what to actually ask for, and Ardea's bold move wasn't helping his thought process.
The meeting wrapped up quickly. Ardea pressed for overdue inheritance, while Servo requested time to consider. With Servo's presence acknowledged, the barn lost much of its violent tension. The President presented his alliance's demands, negotiations resumed, and eventually the Head House removed Servo and Ardea from contention entirely.
Ardea's gambit backfired hard enough that she and Servo laughed about it afterward.
Ardea: "You didn't mind the physical contact? I realized too late most wrathborn don't tolerate strangers in their space."
Servo: "Your heart was steady. It felt less like I was being used and more like you enjoyed it."
She shrugged.
Ardea: "Given that we were kicked out and lost our claims to an all-expenses-paid wedding, I probably should've played that differently."
Servo: "Or we actually get married. Take what we're owed. It'd be funny to profit from doing nothing."
She flicked her tail. He shifted his posture in response. Ardea slowly looked him over, from chest to eyes. Dalia, watching closely, missed the silent exchange at first. Then she caught it and blushed faintly.
Twenty minutes later, the trio reached the train station just in time for the late departure.
Dalia: "That was better than the movies. Wrathborn tribal politics are wild in person."
Servo: "And that was just internal disputes between a few Houses. You should've seen the disaster that was the Five Paw Concord in Wolf River City last year. Absolutely disgusting."
Dalia's spade tail wriggled.
Dalia: "Oh, I know. Impossible to keep track of, but glorious."
Even Ardea chuckled as the three boarded the train home.
-
Ago, Fero, Talia, Zev
Month of Pluvia, Day Duodecim
Black Stone: District Seven, 2:04 PM
Fero walked down the street, taking slow sips from a drink that resembled coffee, before meeting up with Ago and Spero.
Ago: "I just didn't have much time to come back, you know?"
Rival news studios sprawled around a massive plaza. Well-dressed people hurried past with expressions that clearly said, I'm more important than you.
Spero, a canvas-furred wrathborn, rolled her eyes. Today she wore a soft, light-blue top and a long red skirt adorned with colorful cloth strips and decorations.
Spero: "I miss when we used to hike up Black Stone Mountain and eat lunch up there. Then you stopped coming around. You always made time before."
Ago searched for words. He wore a white tank top, plain blue jeans, and a black beanie that pressed his rabbit-like ears flat.
Ago: "You're right. I should've sacrificed time to make time. Every day I just told myself tomorrow would be the day."
Fero tuned out the young adults and slipped down an alley where Zev and Talia waited. He wore casual clothes, a light-blue shirt stretched tight over his muscular frame. Talia and Zev, by contrast, wore their usual armored, thuggish attire.
Talia studied the plaza's statues. Older golden monuments dedicated to heroes and ideals stood cracked and neglected beside newer, flashier statues glorifying media figures, wealth, and pride.
One statue depicted a tall greedborn with small horns, dressed like a news magnate. One hand gripped an anchor-shaped podium, the other raised as if pausing a broadcast for applause. The plaque read:
Will to truth, truth is will.
Talia grimaced.
Fero: "Thanks for coming to this hellhole for a little party."
Zev laughed audibly.
Zev: "Party? Not in District Seven."
Talia: "How do you people even keep getting my number?"
Fero ignored them.
Fero: "If any of you spot our man, Reuven, let me know."
Like most snow-white wrathborn, Spero had a fluffy fox tail. It swished slowly as her long rabbit ears twitched when she overheard.
Spero: "He's always out at this hour. Won't be hard to find."
Talia: "Didn't you have a real lead, Fero?"
Fero shrugged, tail tipping upward playfully.
Fero: "I'm tracking materials. Turns out they needed something... out of sight from District Three."
Spero: "Right. Following money and corporate corruption upriver." She sighed. "Not how I wanted to spend my lunch."
She glanced back at Ago, her eyes soft. He missed the cue entirely.
Ago: "Out of sight doesn't exist. Why wouldn't they just drive trucks over the bridge?"
Fero: "Because boats draw fewer eyes until the cargo reaches District Three proper."
Ago shook his head.
Ago: "Maybe. Still seems dumb."
Fero: "You're missing the point."
Spero pointed toward a green-skinned greedborn with curved horns that had been sawed halfway down.
Spero: "There he is."
Reuven wore a red tropical-print shirt wildly out of place in Black Stone, paired with tan shorts. A young wrathborn camerawoman with fiery red fur followed him as he ambushed passersby with political "gotchas."
He wrapped up with an elderly couple and turned as Spero approached.
Reuven: "Oi! I remember you. Good of you to come down and give us your take on the Expand the Internet Bill."
Spero hunched slightly, playing the shy act.
Spero: "You know I don't follow gross politics." She straightened. "Especially when the bill name doesn't match what it does."
Ago: "Classic politicians."
Reuven: "Ah, tall guy. Muscular. You must be the one who buys Spero's lunches. You sound opinionated. I love wrathborn opinions."
Ago blinked, then refocused.
Ago: "If we spread what the bill actually does, we can hold politicians accountable."
Reuven: "Yeah, yeah."
Ago: "And by accountable, I mean dragging them from their homes like they did when voting rights were first proposed in ancient times."
Reuven: "Classic."
Ago: "Classic."
Fero coughed sharply. Ago and Spero's fur rippled.
Spero: "Actually, we're here about something older. District Four docks."
Reuven nodded and motioned to his camerawoman, who lowered the camera.
Reuven: "That? Ancient news. What angle are you chasing?"
Fero stepped forward.
Fero: "Fero of House Onus. You filmed people moving heavy materials. What came of it?"
Reuven shrugged.
Reuven: "Story died. Walled off completely. Authorities responded every time. Even the machine parts were legal."
Fero frowned.
Fero: "Impossible. Where did the deliveries originate?"
Reuven: "People hoard secrets like treasure. Plenty of trucks pass through District Five. Without deep police work, you won't know which went where. And police said it was all clean."
Fero nodded once.
Fero: "Thanks."
Reuven grinned.
Reuven: "Anytime. Love the smell of conspiracies in the afternoon."
As Reuven returned to filming, the party headed toward District Four.
Talia: "Why are we here again?"
Fero: "Trucks carry parts from District Five to the docks here. We're taking a look."
The docks of Black Stone were a scar that never healed. Concrete pylons jutted at uneven angles. The river crawled thick and sluggish, polluted by industry and nature alike. Far south, cranes loomed over steadier waters and waiting ships.
Internet cables sagged everywhere, many in disrepair. Spero sighed as her phone lost signal.
Spero: "Direct access only."
Ago gestured broadly.
Ago: "Direct access to what?"
Feral wolves and foxes barked when trucks passed near their claimed spaces. Most dockworkers were greedborn, moving efficiently. Wrathborn were rare, appearing briefly before vanishing back into workspaces.
After two hours, they regrouped.
Ago: "Nothing unusual. No special cargo."
Zev shrugged.
Zev: "Workers had a purge. Gangs tried smuggling once. Didn't go well for them."
Talia yawned.
Talia: "Almost every truck's from outside Black Stone. We barely export anything."
Fero thought, then spoke.
Fero: "Found a lot of private boats. Rich people, mostly. Someone tried to pretty up this side of the port."
He thumbed toward modest yachts.
Fero: "Though after seeing a coworker dock his own yacht, I think it's more about showing off."
Talia: "Tendo?"
Fero sighed.
Fero: "How that crow-food-eating idiot bought a yacht is beyond me."
With daylight fading and no leads left, the group hit a dead end.
Wherever the trail went next, it would start with the meeting with the CEO of Out of Ideas.
-
The Party
Month of Pluvia, Day Tredecim
Black Stone: Private Estate of Yoel Machina, 8:59 AM
Ago had hiked for over two hours before setting up a small camp beside a lonely bus stop. He dropped his overstuffed duffel bag onto the bench and waited for the others. He looked dressed for war, still wearing his dusty tan trench coat and beanie, now layered with a store-grade combat vest and padded forearm guards. A light drizzle passed over him, brief but cold, leaving behind a thin late-morning fog.
Out of that fog, a bus barreled in, braking hard as it pulled to the stop. Dalia was the first to leap out, wearing her usual outfit, including the short white-and-pink vest. Several others followed. Servo and Ardea were last, both in their typical attire. Servo still wore his high-quality combat vest, repaired and hidden beneath a black sweatshirt, hood pulled up as usual.
Dalia: "Ba-ba-ba! Our quest line is almost over! One more step and boom, boss fight!"
Servo: "Couldn't have said it better."
Ago: "Yeah. Let's find the others."
The four walked up the road until it narrowed into a well-kept dirt path leading toward a modest mansion. There were no walls blocking the road, but a tall fence surrounded the estate itself. What stopped them short wasn't the fence, though, but the crowd. Protesters packed the area, with news crews weaving through them, cameras chasing every angle.
Ago: "Silver hell."
He shook his head.
It didn't take long to spot Fero, Talia, and Zev. Fero was on duty, coordinating with other officers to keep the protest contained and the wealthy CEO safe inside his "humble" estate. Talia and Zev lingered nearby, armed and armored like the rest of the group, waiting.
They huddled together to talk.
Fero: "I'm not going anywhere. I'm working."
Dalia glanced around.
Dalia: "When did all this happen? I didn't see anything online."
Ago: "More importantly, is this going to be a problem?"
Everyone started talking at once until Talia raised her voice.
Talia: "Hold up. One at a time."
The group quieted.
Talia: "Let's confirm the meeting is still happening and leave Fero to his job."
Fero: "Correct. I'm stuck here. You'll have to attend in my place."
Dalia snapped a salute.
Dalia: "Aye aye, sir. We've got this."
Ago scratched his head.
Ago: "I don't think I need to go in either."
Heads turned.
Servo: "Something wrong?"
Ago: "Not really. I'd just stand there silently anyway. Besides, this protest's got my attention."
Zev raised a hand.
Zev: "Same. I'm not playing nice with some rich CEO. Also, I'm probably on a no-go list."
Talia: "I don't have any issues. I'll go in."
Zev gestured toward the mansion.
Zev: "If this protest turns violent, I'll carve a path to get you out."
Talia, uneasy: "You don't owe my family bodies. Please don't."
Fero tilted his head.
Fero: "We haven't had violent protests since the Campaign years. I doubt that changes today."
Talia and Zev both chuckled.
Zev: "None of these people lived through Nevar's Dark Age. Normal's back now. And normal means money, power, and dethroning whoever's on top."
Servo frowned.
Servo: "Greedborn should've returned to House living. You've lived that way for thousands of years. I don't see why it couldn't work again."
Talia and Zev considered that, but Dalia answered first.
Dalia: "Conservatism tried. When cities grew and industry overtook farming, the old family systems couldn't keep up. Stability changed. Pride changed. There's no going back."
Servo: "I know the history. I just don't understand why it can't come back."
Dalia lifted her hands, expression soft.
Dalia: "We're trying. I live in a House tower. Society's just... complicated."
Ardea cleared her throat.
Ardea: "We still have a meeting to attend. And an angry crowd to wade through."
The group finished gearing up. Servo took point, adjusting his grip on his shovel, its presence drawing more or less attention depending on how hostile a protester looked. Dalia and Talia stayed in the middle, with Ardea covering the rear.
Together, they moved toward the crowd.
-
The group struggled to make their way through the crowd. Many were chanting, some pressed their faces into media cameras, while others clashed with a smaller counter-protest, immediately swarmed by angry onlookers.
Protestor 1: "Out of Ideas, Out of Soul!"
Protestor 2: "Hoard is our downfall!"
Servo: "Excuse me, pardon me, people of importance coming through."
Several protesters chuckled at that, easing the tension slightly.
Inside, the crowd was organized by signs, colors, and slogans. Faces ranged from furious to indifferent. Some leaned on signposts, scrolling through feeds, lifting their placards only when chants returned. Others weren't protesting at all, just watching, filming, and enjoying the spectacle.
The estate itself was not an ostentatious display of wealth. Low stone buildings sprawled behind manicured lawns. Trees were scattered naturally, lending a sense of life to the strictly maintained grounds.
Talia: "Walking around wasn't an option?"
An old, red-skinned greedborn stopped them.
Old Woman: "Excuse me, but you can't come through. We are protesting."
Servo, perfectly neutral: "Yes, and I am walking."
The woman bristled slightly.
Old Woman: "We fight injustice and greed. We won't let you pass unless we know who you are."
Servo: "Oh. Okay. I am Servo Custodia. Hello."
The crowd, including the old woman, chuckled, their impression softening.
Old Woman: "Well, hello, blood of Custodia."
Few wrathborn were present, but any that appeared made room for Servo and his group hearing that name.
Old Woman: "You understand we can't just let you walk straight to the gates?"
Servo: "Like... are you trying to stop some rich man from meeting his friends? Kind of rude, don't you think?"
Old Woman: "This man adopted greed as his principle. Our species nearly died because of it. We must stand against evil or face destruction."
Servo sighed, unenthused.
Servo: "Aggression isn't helping your cause. Plus, that might be illegal." He gestured to his group. "Please excuse us, we're in the middle of an investigation."
He turned. The others were gone.
Servo: "Guys, come on! One path forward."
Old Woman: "Well? Are you with us or against us?"
Servo tried to remain neutral, but the surrounding protesters made dialogue difficult.
Servo: "None of the above. I'm investigating. Consider me a private investigator at this point."
Old Woman: "Is this going to bring down Out of Ideas?"
Servo shrugged.
Servo: "I'll find out by the end of the day."
Another protestor interjected.
Angry Man: "Out of Ideas needs to burn! They're firing thousands of workers to save a few Papers!"
Shouts of agreement rippled through the crowd.
Old Woman: "Exactly. Fear of spending money has caused economic collapse in Capitalist nations. People abuse the system, tearing through nations and nearly destroying our species. To survive, we must reject what almost killed us."
Disagreement in other sections of the protest sparked a cascade of infighting.
Willful Greedborn: "To the pyres with the system! Abandon the old ways that nearly killed us all!"
Tall Wrathborn: "And what, replace it with another that's already failed? Get your mind back in the game!"
The shouting grew louder. The old woman was now riled up, creating an opening for Servo to move and locate his companions.
Off to the side, Ardea faced a barrage of questions.
Poorly Dressed Man: "We're holding a gathering about worker's rights soon. Are you in?"
Thin Woman: "No, she's part of the League of Anti-Papers, right?"
Ardea: "I'm not here for this. I'm in the middle of an investigation. I just need to pass."
Poorly Dressed Man: "So you don't care about the workers? People could die!"
Thin Woman: "You're harming your own freedoms! Yoel Machina and businessfolk will enslave us all!"
Ardea tugged at her red scarf, glancing around as if seeking recognition. Then she squared her shoulders and faced the two directly.
Ardea: "First, no one can demand a job for another. If lack of work is your biggest problem, maybe don't abandon the House system!"
She fixed the thin woman with a cold stare.
Ardea: "Same to you. All your problems would be solved if you built your family instead of relying on jobs or Papers to survive."
Her words only fueled the crowd. Chants erupted again.
Ardea: "The silver hell?"
Confused and pressed by voices and zealous energy, Ardea froze.
Talia reached out and pulled her away.
Talia: "Let's go. These people are beyond hope."
Tails kept slapping against theirs as both girls tried to move around, sometimes a random person's heart would scream which made Ardea jump, only to see its just some passerby. The two caught up with Dalia, who was being escorted by Servo.
Servo: "Cool. Let's move."
Dalia: "Protests never used to be like this."
Talia rolled her eyes, spade tail flicking in irritation.
Talia: "Society's back, and almost no one here even existed before the nothing. Now it's all about building yourself up Ashurat style."
Dalia: "That explains nothing!"
Talia: "Rich people protest richer people. No one's here for justice or actual problems."
A nearby protestor overheard.
Random Protestor: "That's not true!"
Dalia: "I guess I've been listening to the wrong people if protests can spring up without me noticing."
After enough maneuvering, Servo, Ardea, Dalia, and Talia regrouped at the estate gates, all wary of the increasingly unruly protesters.
-
Ago, Fero, Zev
Month of Pluvia, Day Tredecim
Black Stone: Private Estate of Yoel Machina, 9:32 AM
Zev scratched his head, watching the swelling crowd.
Zev: "They're still coming."
Ago glanced over the sea of signs and bodies.
Ago: "If this continues, we might see the largest protest in Black Stone history."
Nearby, leaning against his police vehicle, Fero huffed.
Fero: "Before the Campaign, Black Stone had a larger population. It's seen much bigger protests than this."
A flare of tension erupted within the crowd. Several greedborn protesters began harassing a wrathborn male who had been shouting earlier. The wrathborn barked back once before storming off entirely.
Zev: "Yikes. What was that about?"
Ago: "Some things are better left unknown."
A group of rude-looking greedborn youths began drifting toward Ago. One peeled off and approached him directly.
Rude Youth: "Well, well. King of the ring himself."
He was deep purple-skinned, with a longer, more prehensile tail than most greedborn and no horns. He wore a black sleeveless turtleneck and red cargo pants, long brown hair cascading down his shoulders.
Ago: "Yes. Can I help you?"
Rude Youth: "Heard your gym's getting shut down. Thought I'd check if you finally realized the Paper system doesn't work."
Ago raised an uninterested eyebrow.
Ago: "Do I know you?"
Rude Youth: "I was there when you knocked down Rookie King Amos. You stole that win. You challenged him while having the massive advantage of being wrathborn. But if you're here because of the unfair Paper system, I can forgive you."
Ago tilted his head.
Ago: "First, Papers represent labor. So you're already off base. Second, the Rookie King had fifteen pounds on me. That's a huge advantage in unarmed combat."
Rude Youth: "Papers are fake, man. Controlled by wealthy elites. And don't pretend Amos Lete'on Mehadash had an advantage. You had muscle, reflexes, reach, and that lust for pain."
Ago shrugged slightly.
Ago: "Mass matters more than you think. You're underestimating it."
The youth sneered.
Rude Youth: "Wrathborn have too much strength to understand the imbalance. Who do you think's losing jobs here? Not wrathborn laborers."
Ago hesitated, lacking context about the layoffs. Fero stepped in.
Fero: "Office workers and administrative staff are being let go. In this corporation, that sector's roughly eighty percent greedborn, twenty percent wrathborn. So for every eight greedborn fired, two wrathborn are too."
The youth leaned forward and barked,
Rude Youth: "Shut up, cop!"
He turned back to Ago.
Ago: "Strength isn't a single trait. Wrathborn build muscle quickly, sure. Even our females approach your males in mass. But that doesn't make us automatically stronger. A lot of our muscle mass stabilizes our skeletal frame. Greedborn accumulate usable weight more efficiently. At the extreme high end, the biggest feats of raw strength are usually done by greedborn stacking mass."
He added, almost lightly,
Ago: "Muscle can't pull a bus the way properly leveraged mass can."
The youth narrowed his eyes.
Rude Youth: "You don't think it's unfair that eighty percent of those fired are greedborn? It should be fifty-fifty."
Ago: "So you'd artificially adjust firings in a sector already dominated by greedborn?"
The youth crossed his arms.
Rude Youth: "Then wrathborn need to get educated or stop hogging physical labor."
One of Fero's long ears twitched. He could hear Ago's pulse shifting from calm to irritated.
Ago: "Wrathborn households are statistically more stable, which correlates with education outcomes. We're not stupid."
The youth smirked.
Ago continued, voice sharpening slightly.
Ago: "The data's settled. Wrathborn and greedborn score the same overall. The difference isn't intelligence. It's architecture. We think wide. You think deep. Your ancestors stared at stone and timber and somehow extracted the mathematics for rocketry from it. You were designing pressurized aqueducts before you'd figured out proper clothing. We don't burrow. We expand. We run ten problems at once and solve three before you've finished sharpening your chisel."
The youth blinked, momentarily thrown.
Rude Youth: "They had religious reasons for distrusting clothing."
Then he scowled again.
Rude Youth: "Still, society keeps kicking greedborn in the legs while wrathborn land on top."
Ago shrugged.
Ago: "Return to House systems. That's our secret. Industrialization didn't break things. Breaking family structures did."
Rude Youth: "Your secret? You copied ours."
He looked ready to continue, but his friends began harassing another wrathborn nearby. He turned to join them.
Zev, who had stayed mostly quiet, stepped closer once the youth left.
Zev: "Ignore him. I've lived in District Three my whole life. I've never heard of species problems like that. Wealth gaps, sure. Not that."
Ago shook his head.
Ago: "Same. Never heard resentment like that before. Strange."
They both looked toward Fero, still beside his cruiser with the other officers. He gave a small shrug.
The crowd kept growing.
-
Servo, Ardea, Dalia, Talia
Month of Pluvia, Day Tredecim
Black Stone: Private Estate of Yoel Machina, 9:55 AM
The four were required to leave their weapons behind. Servo surrendered his shovel. Ardea handed over her combat knife. Dalia reluctantly gave up her pocket drones and shock glove. Talia set aside her crossbow case and box of bolts.
They were escorted through the mansion by several bodyguards. There were many.
The black stone floors gleamed like still water. The ceilings were high, not extravagantly so, but designed for wrathborn comfort. A staircase of dark wood spiraled from the center of the grand hall, and light spilled into every corner of the estate.
Dalia glanced around.
Dalia: "See this? Forget the marriage. Spend the money on a house like this. Call it part of the wedding."
Talia blinked.
Talia: "Excuse me? Are Servo and Ardea getting married?"
Dalia let out a childish, wicked little laugh. Servo sighed and filled her in.
Servo: "Not exactly. One of my distant relatives and one of Ardea's left us an opportunity to inherit something. We... stretched the truth while making our case. They offered to fund a full wedding instead. We couldn't refuse."
Ardea folded her arms.
Ardea: "And cut us out of the actual inheritance. Silver-swallowing cheapskates."
Talia: "Sounds like wrathborn House drama."
Dalia grinned.
Dalia: "Like it came straight from a movie."
They were led into Yoel's private study. It was expansive, with several guest chairs arranged before a heavy desk clearly built for meetings. The rug matched the dark aesthetic of the floors. Red floral wallpaper wrapped the walls, broken only by tall windows and shelves filled with books and ledgers. The desk itself was finely crafted, but made from common timber. Wealth restrained rather than flaunted.
Yoel Machina stood when they entered.
He was tall, lithe but muscular. His tail and spade were thicker than most greedborn, and his horns curved forward like a bull's. His skin burned a deep red. His silky black hair was tied neatly into a ponytail. He wore a shirt patterned identically to his wallpaper, dark jeans, and a fine leather collar signaling marriage.
When he looked up, they saw his eyes. Gold. Wrathborn gold.
Servo muttered.
Servo: "Oh wow. He won the lottery."
Yoel smiled.
Yoel: "A one-in-a-hundred chance. Born greedborn to a greedborn mother."
Talia: "What?"
Dalia leaned forward eagerly.
Dalia: "He's mixed species. Wrathborn biology almost always dominates. He's rare."
Yoel: "Just one of the many twists fate handed me."
They sat.
Yoel: "Ardea Fervidus. Star of the Curtain. I never did see you dance."
Ardea: "We have a strict seventeen-and-older policy. The outfits are... minimal."
Yoel shrugged lightly.
Yoel: "Pragmatic versions exist."
His gaze shifted.
Yoel: "And the infamous Dalia Anaf."
Dalia clasped her hands dramatically.
Dalia: "Oh silver, I'm famous now? That's incredible."
Yoel gave her a brief puzzled look before turning back.
Servo nodded.
Servo: "Servo Custodia."
Talia: "Talia Tal."
Yoel gathered several papers and dropped them onto a side stack.
Yoel: "I understand you're conducting a private investigation. How may I help the Last Curtain's favorite?"
Ardea: "I don't think I'm Miriam's favorite."
Yoel smiled faintly.
Yoel: "Considering she arranged this meeting for you, I disagree. Now... explain."
Ardea detailed it.
Warehouse 404 and the scandal involving former Governor Canto. Gangs reappearing in the tunnels under the guise of employees. Materials moving between Warehouses 404 and 414. The Red Men gang headquarters being repurposed for something called the Reclamation Engine. A completed unit possibly at 414. And suspicion of a compromised officer ensuring paperwork remained legal.
Servo added to the explanation.
Servo: "Trucks moving materials. Legitimate employees admitting they redirected corporate funds to the project."
Yoel leaned back, thinking.
Yoel: "Well steal my pants and fox."
He steepled his fingers.
Yoel: "Canto invested in Warehouse 404 on my behalf. The money he 'lost' was mine. I gave it to him freely. All I needed were receipts for legal cover. I didn't care about the loss. He had his own wealth."
He leaned forward.
Yoel: "The government froze his assets when the funds went missing. That prevented him from repaying me. Which allowed them to prosecute and convict him. Efficient, isn't it?"
Talia frowned.
Talia: "What does that have to do with our investigation?"
Yoel tapped his temple.
Yoel: "Someone inside my company siphoned funds. I've forced an audit. The waste is absurd. Employees with no assignments. Temporary hires with no workstations. Projects without development."
He smiled slowly.
Yoel: "You just handed me the final piece."
He slammed his fist lightly on the desk.
Yoel: "I'll involve the police and arrest every one of them."
Servo raised a brow.
Servo: "Well. Case closed. Project Inheritance defeated."
Yoel's smile sharpened.
Yoel: "Project Inheritance. So that's the game."
Dalia tilted her head playfully.
Dalia: "Sounds like you know something."
Yoel adjusted his collar.
Yoel: "Cyberpunx Data leases one of my factories."
Ardea narrowed her eyes.
Ardea: "Are you working with them?"
Yoel: "No. They're upgrading my facility and paying me while they do it. Project Inheritance is a side venture for them. Not their primary revenue."
Servo's ear twitched.
Servo: "What are they doing in your factory?"
Yoel: "Repairing my autonomous robots."
The room shifted slightly.
Dalia blinked.
Dalia: "Robots? After the Campaign? It's been a political nightmare trying to bring them back. A lot of folk find them anti-God."
Yoel's eyes brightened.
Yoel: "And why is automation anti-God? Is a robot different from a trebuchet? Or a dishwasher? Only more complex."
Dalia hesitated.
Dalia: "I'm religious. I just... don't see machines as spiritual threats."
Yoel leaned back.
Yoel: "Can believers disagree with their church's politics?"
Dalia: "Not everything falls under scripture. Robots feel interpretive."
Servo raised a hand.
Servo: "Sir. Can we return to the investigation?"
Yoel waved him off.
Yoel: "Not off topic. If I freeze operations and call law enforcement, I resolve my internal problem."
Talia shook her head.
Talia: "That won't work. The gangs have operated for years without consequence. And if there are compromised officers, you'll tip them off."
Yoel smiled slowly.
Yoel: "Law enforcement sees more than you think."
He leaned forward.
Yoel: "I am not religious. But I'll make you an offer. Convince me God exists, and I'll grant you unrestricted access to the factory before I contact the police."
Talia crossed her arms.
Talia: "I'm not religious."
Yoel smirked.
Yoel: "Then three."
Servo, Ardea, and Dalia exchanged looks and then turned back to him.
-
Yoel leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled.
Yoel: "Let's start simple. Can God create a rock so heavy He cannot lift it? The classic paradox."
Servo and Ardea exchanged a look, already feeling the trap snap shut. Before either could answer, Dalia spoke.
Dalia: "Omnipotence means the power to do all possible things. Logical contradictions aren't things. A rock that overpowers infinite strength isn't an object. It's nonsense dressed up as a question."
Yoel's mouth twitched. A flicker of irritation, then a smile.
Yoel: "So God can't do nonsense?"
Dalia: "Nonsense isn't a category of action. It's just broken language. Saying 'God can't make a square circle' isn't limiting Him. There's no such thing to make."
Yoel tilted his head.
Yoel: "If logic exists because of God, could He have made it differently? Or is He bound by it?"
Dalia: "Logic isn't a leash around God's neck. It reflects His nature. He doesn't 'follow' logic like a rulebook. He's consistent. Contradiction isn't power. It's incoherence."
Servo let out a low whistle.
Servo: "Classic greedborn-on-greedborn debate."
Ardea grinned.
Ardea: "Point to us."
Yoel exhaled, amused.
Yoel: "I never said I conceded."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
Yoel: "Alright. Here's the one that actually cost me a friend. If God is all-powerful and good, why does suffering exist?"
The mood shifted. Servo straightened.
Servo: "If you mean moral evil, that's people. Free will means real choice. If God prevented every harmful action, we wouldn't be free. We'd be managed."
He considered his words.
Servo: "A world with freedom might be better than a world without evil but without choice. Maybe love that's forced isn't love at all."
Yoel nodded once, but didn't look satisfied.
Yoel: "And the natural world? Disease? Earthquakes? A child dying before they understand what life even is?"
Servo's jaw tightened.
Servo: "I don't have a clean answer for that. Maybe suffering is a consequence of existing in a finite, physical world. Maybe a stable universe requires stable laws, and stable laws sometimes hurt us."
He shook his head slightly.
Servo: "But I don't know."
Ardea leaned forward.
Ardea: "Even then, suffering isn't the final word. When disaster strikes, people step up. Courage, sacrifice, compassion. Without danger, you don't see heroism."
Yoel's expression hardened.
Yoel: "So children have to die so someone else can be brave?"
Silence settled heavily over the table. Yoel continued.
Yoel: "Mass murder. Starvation. Abuse. If God could stop those things and doesn't, how is that good?"
No one answered immediately. Yoel gave a frown, but then swiftly turned it into a smile.
Yoel: "Forget it. Let's move on."
Talia jokingly: "Next question. Why doesn't God just show up and perform divine miracles."
The room stilled. Not out of outrage, but because the question sounded deceptively simple.
Yoel snorted softly.
Yoel: "Even I wouldn't use that one."
He leaned back.
Yoel: "There was this one movie I watched, about aliens." He wiggled his fingers theatrically. "They had technology that could rewrite perception at the cellular level. Every neuron, every sense. They could simulate entire lives inside a mind. If something like that exists, then any miracle could just be advanced machinery."
Servo frowned.
Servo: "You're saying even if God appeared, you wouldn't believe it?"
Yoel: "I'm saying I couldn't verify it. There's no miracle that couldn't be replicated by something sufficiently advanced. And if it can be replicated, it can't function as certainty."
Ardea crossed her arms.
Ardea: "So it's less about belief and more about epistemology. It would be a mistake on God's part to rely on spectacle."
Yoel pointed at her.
Yoel: "Exactly. If God exists and understands reason, He'd know overwhelming displays wouldn't solve anything. They'd just create new uncertainty."
He leaned forward again.
Yoel: "So 'Why doesn't God show up?' isn't a strong question. Even if He did, we'd still argue about what we saw."
A small shrug.
Yoel: "Anyway. Back on track."
-
Servo's body reacted subtly, a ripple moving through him.
Servo: "Hang on. We do have verifiable miracles, things science can't explain and are well documented."
Yoel smiled and gestured for Servo to continue.
Servo: "The first Sinnerborn. Those in heaven who said no to God and were imprisoned in the mortal realm until they repented."
Yoel tilted his head with excitement.
Yoel: "Ah yes, the works of the first Sinnerborn. Long-lived, with knowledge of technology that not even a Greedborn's advanced mind could create without substantial study. They invented electricity and other advanced technologies before they finally died, and their tech decayed to nothing."
Servo: "Yes."
Yoel gave an amused huff.
Yoel: "Aliens."
All four raised an eyebrow at him.
Yoel: "It's the only thing that makes sense. How else do you explain their knowledge of advanced technology? Electricity and all that."
Dalia: "And we'll be waiting forever to know if that's true."
Yoel shrugged.
Yoel: "Sure, I side with not fully knowing the truth, but at least I have sound theories."
Dalia: "A lot of religion comes from them. They talked about God and the laws."
Yoel: "Because they can't lie?"
Ardea leaned forward.
Ardea: "So they just invented a bunch of whacky stories and not say this is fiction?"
Yoel rested his chin on steepled claws.
Yoel: "Aliens don't need the story to be true. They need it to be useful."
Servo: "What do you mean?"
Yoel: "Control. Harmony. Population stability. Sometimes people write stories for meaning rather than the plot itself."
Yoel gestured broadly at the four of them.
Yoel: "The aliens would have a use for fiction rather than just saying, 'Do this.' Since we didn't live four thousand years ago, who's to say they didn't explain the fiction while also crafting a story for future generations?"
Yoel sighed.
Yoel: "We're off track. That's one miracle down. What else do you have? The burning shrubbery? The heroic last stand of the final monarch? Maybe you want to pull the Wrathborn card?"
Dalia looked side to side nervously. Ardea stared off in thought, forming an argument, but Servo once again took the lead.
Servo: "How are you going to write off the appearance of Wrathborn?"
Yoel gave a slight shrug.
Yoel: "It isn't possible to know exactly what science they were doing in the Aetherium Labs, but we have records. They had energy tunnels and particle accelerators. Before Aetherium Labs, they experimented with cellular manipulation, vainly trying to create people and prove God wrong."
Yoel paused to gather his thoughts.
Yoel: "We may not know the science, but I don't see why we can't link the energy experiments to those piles of flesh and bone."
Ardea: "From a completely different part of the building?"
Yoel smiled playfully.
Yoel: "Energy goes where it pleases. The only thing that really throws me for a loop is the first of the Wrathborn. There's no doubt he was a Greedborn accidentally caught in the light, but I still believe the mind, or whatever makes up a person, was simply transferred into one of the flesh masses. But as I said, we lack so much information about the experiments and the science behind making real people from that."
Servo's and Ardea's tails whipped in protest.
Ardea: "You can't see Aurum's resurrection as miraculous?"
Yoel shrugged.
Yoel: "I still think it's logical to assume we don't know all the answers."
Dalia: "I don't think I can say anything different. We don't know what Aetherium Labs was about, but I still see God turning Greedborn hubris into His miracle. You also still have that prophecy the priests gave at zero After Campaign."
Yoel tilted his head, expression neutral.
Yoel: "Priests can say whatever they want. We were destined to go extinct, and the Wrathborn, through Aurum's prayers, were created as the new replacements for His promise. The priests said whatever it took to bring our failing civilization around. Look, we're still here, and the Wrathborn are doing just fine. Also, it would've been embarrassing to portal all the way over to this planet just to go extinct anyway."
Yoel smiled and laughed at his own statement.
Yoel: "Portal technology shows us how much science and tech get lost over time."
Servo smiled.
Servo: "At least we still have one open portal gate operable. When we do what the previous civilization failed to do, finish colonizing Nevar, we can go and colonize Ashurat."
Yoel rolled his eyes.
Yoel: "It'll take another five hundred years before life actually recovers on that dead world. Half that time, all of Nevar will be under our control."
-
Yoel picked up a phone connected to the internet cables. He had just received a text message that apparently couldn't wait. A sneer crossed his face.
Yoel: "The thing about believing something is that you already have the answer, which makes everything else just a puzzle piece to force into your narrative. I don't think anything can change my mind about religion. Too messy. Too much uncertainty. But I enjoyed the debate we managed to have."
He stood up.
Yoel: "Stellar Crafter. A side company I use to build rocket ships. Someone has to get the satellites up, and for a while that someone was me. But things change. New faces rise to power, and I was out billions unless I pivoted."
Dalia: "I know where that is. District Four. Pretty good digital security."
Yoel smiled.
Yoel: "You have my full permission to search the entire building. I'll get the authorities involved by tomorrow, but until then, I'll sneak you inside with a few calls."
He walked to the window and opened it. After a moment, he glanced back at the four of them.
Yoel: "Actually, I think I'll come down too. It's time to put these scumbags in their place."
Yoel gazed out at the crowd as police tried to force them back. The protest had caused damage to the gates and yard after the mob broke through onto the property. Officers were already inside the grounds, arresting vandals who had pushed close enough to the mansion that the bodyguards were on the verge of drawing their weapons.
After a few seconds, Dalia spoke.
Dalia: "Uh... okay. When do you want to meet up?"
Before Yoel could respond, a loud gunshot cracked through the air. Yoel's chest burst as the round struck him. He staggered back, and less than a second later, a second shot hit center mass, dropping him lifeless to the floor.
The bodyguards in the room were already moving. Ardea stood with her fur bristling, combat-ready, but Servo, Dalia, and Talia froze, unable to process what had just happened.
When one of the guards shouted at them to get out, the rest of them finally snapped into motion. Ardea's and Servo's ears twitched. The yelling, the police commands, the chaos outside, it didn't matter. Beneath it all, they could hear the unmistakable sound of waves of people smashing their way inside.
-
End of Part 3.
