There were many preconceived notions that Blackrazor held onto despite, or perhaps as a consequence of, how his life had played out. Some things had changed after joining the Inner Circle of Ishtar. Others had remained very much the same. Among them was the perception that criminals, and by extension villains, outside of those at the peak of power were more likely than not to meet in the dark, hiding in alleys and warehouses. It was an infantile way of thinking, he knew, but as an assassin for the Night Society he had been proven right more often than not.

That notion evaporated as Blight arrived at the chosen rendezvous point for his own group. Blackrazor, of course, had chosen to remain in the man’s shadow rather than walk on his own for the sake of security. The building was one of the largest greenhouses in Jakarta, attached to the university and made available even to the public during certain hours. It was beautiful in a way that a man like him could not fully appreciate. The colors and brightness were almost repulsive, and it made him wonder if Kingshark’s ribbing about his edgelord status wasn’t entirely unfounded.

He pulled his thoughts away from distractions as Blight stepped into a gazebo set into the center of the enormous garden. From within the sea of shadows where he was keeping the Legionnaires, he saw six people there.

Everyone is present then.

“Blight!” One of them, a woman, gasped. “You look incredible!”

Of course he does, the Mistress restored him.

Blight was a youthful man with a slight Asiatic look about him, but was otherwise European in descent. He had long black hair pulled into a severe ponytail that hung down to his shoulder blades. His slate-colored eyes sparkled with an odd brightness to them despite the vicious disposition the man had. Blackrazor watched the young man smile and place a matte brown suitcase on the table at the center of the gazebo.

“Hello, Dune,” he said quietly. “Yes, Ishtar kept her end of the bargain.”

“It’s good to see you, Captain,” another one of the six said, a man who appeared to be in his forties. “We’ve all been in hiding for so long I was beginning to wonder if this would ever happen.”

“Bog,” Blight greeted him with a nod. “At least we were able to maintain a line of communication. You’re right, though. We’ve stayed still long enough.”

A third member stood up, this one a young man around Blight’s age with a dark complexion and eyes like glaciers. “We’re hitting the Anak Krakatau Reserve?”

“That’s right, Taiga,” Blight said and reached for the suitcase. “The Pandora Committee and Indonesian government overstepped against Mother Nature.”

“Overstepped is an understatement,” the fourth person said, a girl with dark hair and regal bearing. Her eyes smoldered with orange-red light. “They built a base in the heart of the reserve. It needs to go.”

“They’re using it to contain a dungeon, Caldera. While that does not excuse their crime, it does add an extra layer to our goal. We need to close the dungeon, regardless of whether or not it is now a natural phenomenon of our world. It will only attract more despoilment,” he said gravely and turned to the remaining pair. “Lagoon? Prairie? What do you say?”

Lagoon appeared to be a man with dark eyes and a thick beard. He wore a heavy winter coat and had a beanie cap pulled down over his curly hair. He turned his sullen gaze towards his companion, a muscular woman with long braided hair and a jaw that Blackrazor assumed could cut diamond. The woman nodded mutely and Lagoon turned back to Blight. “We’re in. My only concern is that it is a Rare-tier dungeon. We’re strong, but can we clear something like that quickly enough to finish the job properly?”

Blight opened the suitcase. “That won’t be an issue. Here, while I go over the strategy, I’d like you all to familiarize yourself with this gear Ishtar has provided.” He turned the suitcase around. “While I do that, I’ll introduce you to-”

Blackrazor felt it first.

Three spots of movement through the garden around the gazebo. The garden isn’t open yet, and the crews aren’t scheduled to arrive for another hour.

He frowned within the sea of shadow and waited. He cast his senses about, finding the three interlopers. Not a single one of them had any sort of presence to them, eliminating the possibility that one was some manner of Mythic. How did they get so close?

Blackrazor was troubled.

He hated being troubled.

All of them leaped from the crowded foliage around the gazebo as Blight and his companions gathered around the suitcase. The figures were wrapped entirely in a hood and cloak, their faces in black bandages, knives in their hands. Despite the sudden movement, Blight and the others didn’t react. Blackrazor didn’t waste time thinking about it, he merely struck. He stepped out of the shadow and threw one of his violet knives across the table and past the one called Dune’s head. His other hand snapped forward to drive a knife into the second attacker’s gut before he stepped past and plunged it into the back of his neck.

Behind him, the third attacker choked as a tendril of shadow wrapped around their neck and pulled them to the ground, cracking their nose against the hard surface below.

Blight and his people were still starting to react when the bodies fell. “-our contact…” Blight finished.

Blackrazor stalked towards the third, who had been disabled, passing Blight. “One of your people was followed. Don’t let it happen again.”

“Understood.”

“Is that Blackrazor?” Dune breathed.

Blackrazor stood over the captured interloper, and his shadows forced him up to his knees. He looked down into a pair of teary but furious blue eyes. Blood was trickling down from his face-wrap. Blackrazor created another knife and nicked the man’s cheek. The man winced but held his tongue. “You will die very painfully and slowly from that poison,” Blackrazor said. “I will make it quick if you tell me who sent you.”

The masked man’s eyes widened before narrowing into slits. “Your days are numbered, Villain. Mimir- OURK!”

Blackrazor pulled the knife from the man’s throat and stepped away as the corpse dropped. He regarded Blight and his team with a hard look. “We’re leaving.”

He turned away and pulled out his phone, hammering out a quick text.

–

Mimir is on the move. We are departing now.

Sonya resisted the urge to frown at the message. She was sitting in one of the finest hotel bars and restaurants Jakarta had to offer, with a spread of their best snacks and treats in front of her, of which she’d already sampled quite a bit. The General was sitting right across from her with his visored attaché. Qilin was on her left picking delicately at her treats. Nietz was on her right, digging in while Marta kept to her usual spot at Sonya’s back. First Wind had taken up a spot at the bar and was enjoying a drink while watching local sports coverage at her recommendation.

It shouldn’t take them more than fifteen minutes to get there, she thought. Charon will make it happen.

She picked up the glass of cold bubbly drink and took a sip. It was an herbal ale-flavored soda that was popular in the country. She smacked her lips appreciatively and grinned across the table at the General while her thoughts moved to Mimir. A moment later a more thorough message came through describing what had happened. Blackrazor couldn’t sense them until they were basically on top of him. Was it an ability? I can’t imagine many abilities being able to get the drop on him.

If you encounter another, take them alive.

Yes, Mistress.

She set the glass down. “That was lovely, General,” she said.

“Lovely? It’s amazing!” Nietz chimed in.

She turned and gave him a bemused look. “You’re really digging in, huh?”

“I’ve always wanted to travel,” he said, the delicious food clearly brightening his earlier mood. “See new places, try the local street foods. I watched a lot of food journey shows when I was a kid.”

Despite how much he’d annoyed her, she couldn’t help herself. “Oh yeah? Where do you want to go the most?”

His eyes widened. “Oh man, I have a list! I wanna try Elotes, Bao Buns, Falafel, oh! A real Chicago Style Hot Dog,” he counted on his fingers, “New York Pizza…”

She laughed. “Nietz, that’s what you want to eat, not where you want to go.”

He furrowed his brows at her. “Isn’t that the same thing when I want to eat the genuine article?”

She blinked. “Huh, fair point.”

Behind her, Marta chuckled a little which came in stereo as Ishtar joined her. Looks like you and the thorn in your side have something in common, Ishtar teased her.

Hey, I gotta respect the foodie hustle, she declared. So what if it earned him some points?

You are so…

“Miss Chernovna,” the General cut in, and she gave the man a reproachful look. “Sonya,” her frown turned to a smile, and he continued. “You mentioned that there were additional articles that you were willing to provide Indonesia for the right price. Could you elaborate?”

She grinned at him, sipping her drink one last time before setting it down. “Why don’t we talk about dolls first?”

He sat up straighter. “The machines that were assisting during the Australian competition?” he asked. “They’re for sale?”

“Amos wants to move forward on mass production,” she said casually before letting out a dramatic sigh. “Unfortunately, the United States passed several regulations concerning the development of those kinds of machines before the flash. It might be a while before the Supreme Court has an opportunity to reverse the decision.”

The woman next to the General shifted once in her seat, and her lips curled down slightly in a frown, while the General looked thoughtful. He rubbed his chin and tapped his finger on the table before looking Sonya in the eyes. “That is a shame. Have you considered branching out internationally?”

“Actually, I had planned on setting up in Tokyo, but those plans were derailed during my visit by Liberty,” she said. “I wasn’t able to finalize anything.”

“I think we might be able to help one another. I can certainly put in a good word,” the General said with a nod. “My country would appreciate the opportunity to purchase from the first batch in exchange, of course.”

She beamed at him and extended her hand. “It’s a deal, General.”

As they shook hands, there was a clatter from the direction of the bar. She glanced over as the charge went up her arm from the finalized deal and spotted First Wind on his feet. He was gesturing emphatically at the television. “Hey! Turn that up!”

“Ugh, noisy,” Qilin muttered.

Sonya glanced at the General and got to her feet, walking over to peer at the screen as the frazzled bartender hurried over with a remote. As the little bar indicating the volume rose, Sonya watched a familiar figure in a blue and green painted hockey mask bring a microphone to where his mouth should be. The long black hair fluttering behind his head told Sonya all she needed to know. Right on time, Blight.

Behind Blight, a churning wave of sand crashed into a hero, wrapping around them and pinning them in place. Simultaneously, two other heroes struggled against a woman with black hair, who brought both hands up in a sharp gesture, twin columns of magma erupting from the ground at either side of her and spraying in their direction. The action took place within what looked like a military campsite framed by concrete walls. Dead center in the image was a swirling portal framed by two pillars.

“I am Blight,” the Supervillain said. “The Anak Krakatau Reserve is not yours to despoil. It belongs to Mother Nature, and I have come to return it to its natural state.”

“Son of a bitch is still alive!” First Wind snarled and turned to Sonya.

“What?” she asked him evenly. “You aren’t going.”

His nostrils flared. “Why the hell not? He’s my-”

She took one look at the empty pint of beer on the counter and looked back into his eyes. “I can think of a myriad of reasons why the Pandora Committee wouldn’t approve,” she said. “Not limited to you being here as my bodyguard and not as an International.”

He gaped at her and looked up to see the General walking over; the man was already putting away his phone with a scowl on his face. “Additional heroes are being dispatched.”

First Wind rounded on him and stepped into his space. “Just send me.”

“This is Indonesia’s problem, Hero First Wind,” he said with an apologetic nod. “He may be an International Most Wanted, but we have every right to handle it ourselves. If we need your help, we’ll ask for it.”

First Wind ground his teeth and turned back to the screen as his hair started to dance around his head in a sourceless breeze. He planted his hands on the counter and leaned forward, glaring at the screen. Blight was still talking, rambling on about the injustices Mother Nature has suffered at the hands of careless humans. Sonya held back a smirk when the glass next to the Herald trembled a little.

Sucks, doesn’t it?He’s right there, and you know full well that if you move, you’ll start an international incident. You can’t show off as a hero if you don’t have a license. She turned her eyes towards the screen. Now, lets see how he reacts to-

Behind Blight, the portal began to flicker and crackle, the tell-tale signs of a battle taking place against the anchor beast within the dungeon. A gasp next to her announced Nietz’s arrival as he stared at the screen in shock. First Wind slammed his fist into the counter as the pillars crumbled, the portal widening to allow a dark-garbed man and a dozen marble-bodied figures that spread out without warning and moved on the heroes that remained.

“Ishtar!” First Wind bellowed. “She’s behind this!”

Sonya looked over at the General, who had gone red in the face. He was already on the phone. “What do you mean you can’t cut the signal? Just shut it off!”

“Your dungeon is gone,” Blight said into the microphone as he tilted his chin up with pride. “People of Indonesia, you have only one person to thank for this attack. If it had not been for a certain man’s crimes against nature, I would have never sought out an alliance with Ishtar.”

First Wind went very, very still.

“Today’s violence lies at your feet, First Wind!” Blight declared as Blackrazor arrived at his side. Behind him, the bodies of heroes lay strewn across the ground.