Chapter 113 Not So Special Privileges

The break room was cleaner than I expected, with white tiles and fluorescent lights humming above, the faint smell of disinfectant, and the steady buzz of conversation from the SRC agents stationed just outside the door. Two large windows faced the street, and through them I could see flashing blue and red lights bouncing off the glass. Dozens of cop cars and an SRC van boxed the place in like we were royalty under arrest.

“We are almost there, Eclipse,” said Mother, still wearing Missive’s face. Her voice had softened, practiced, and too gentle for comfort. “Can I call you Nick?”

“You can,” I said, dryly.

I phased my hand through the vending machine and grabbed a chocolate bar. The metal didn’t even creak. I unwrapped it, bit into it, and let the sugar drown out the noise in my head. John had accepted my offer on the condition that I helped them destroy the Ten. Now here we were, getting the full VIP treatment before the operation started.

“Don’t be nervous,” said Mother.

“I’m not nervous.”

“Ah, not you,” she said with a light chuckle. “It’s Missive. I’m explaining to her what’s happening, but…”

Onyx was sprawled across the sofa, mirroring my suit and fedora, eating a chocolate bar identical to mine. She raised an eyebrow when I looked at her.

“What? I’m hungry…”

Silver leaned against the wall beside me, arms crossed, eyes flicking between us. “We could always help Mother out, you know. If anyone understands fractured minds, it’s us.”

Onyx snorted. “Yeah? And what’s in it for me?”

Mother’s tone grew strained. “The ‘Past’ version of her is crying, and the ‘Present’ one is being… unappreciative. Don’t they understand this is for their own good?”

I finished the chocolate and tossed the wrapper in the trash. “Even if it’s for good intentions,” I told her, “you still kept secrets from them… and basically mind-controlled them. You can’t expect gratitude after that.”

Mother sighed, almost wistful. “You don’t know what it’s like, Nick… being mind-controlled, coerced, forced to do things against your will.”

Onyx let out a loud laugh. “Oh, that’s priceless coming from you!”

Silver glared, arms crossed. “The irony is choking me. You’ve probably done that to everyone you ever met.”

Mother didn’t react, unaware of the jeers. I didn’t bother to argue. There was no point.

I grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. An old documentary about Dr. Time filled the screen, something about the ban on weapons of mass destruction like chrono-grenades, reality destabilizers, and antimatter condensers. Apparently, Dr. Time had violated every treaty in existence just to prove his “temporal ethics” worked in practice.

The documentary turned out to be more serious than I expected. It wasn’t about Dr. Time’s antics. Instead, it was about the global ban on nuclear weapons and similar WMDs. The narrator explained how weapons like time-shears, black-hole seeds, and continental bioweaves had nearly wiped out humanity during the Old War, and how the SRC had forced the rest of the world into compliance, sometimes through diplomacy, but more often through superior firepower.

The SRC, for all its corruption and hypocrisy, had one unshakable purpose: to preserve the illusion of peace, no matter the cost.

The thought of working for them didn’t sit well with me. But at least they had a cause, something bigger than petty self-interest. Maybe, if I stuck around long enough, I’d understand what my mother saw in them.

And maybe… this was the closest I’d ever get to a normal life. A second chance.

Still, what intrigued me more than anything was what Mother had promised, the glimpse of my future.

The door opened. Amelia, AKA Tigress, walked in, balancing a few bags of fast food. “Lunch time,” she said flatly, setting them on the table.

Lunch was nothing special. There were greasy burgers, limp fries, and a few cans of soda still sweating from the cold. I unwrapped one of the burgers and took a slow bite, the taste was somewhere between cardboard and salt.

“Thanks,” I said between chews. “Eaten yet?”

“No,” Tigress replied bluntly, pulling out her own lunch box. Inside were a few rice balls and some boiled vegetables. They were plain, colorless, and sad.

Mother’s voice came through Missive’s body, light but mocking. “I could share mine if you’d like.”

Tigress didn’t even look up, just kept eating in silence.

Mother sighed, feigning offense. “I guess more for me, then…”

Like me, Mother was receiving the same privileges from temporary clearance, living arrangements, and a shiny new contract that practically screamed indentured servitude. After this, she’d be sent somewhere else to work under the SRC. While the SRC was rooted in the Council of City-States, its reach extended across continents. I wouldn’t be surprised if I got assigned to some backwater city in another hemisphere, probably behind a desk. It sounded boring as hell.

When I finished my food, I went back to the vending machine and phased out a few more chocolate bars. My stomach wouldn’t shut up. I was starving.

“Hey, that’s stealing,” Tigress cried, glaring at me. “You’re not supposed to steal.”

I tossed her one of the bars, and she caught it without thinking.

“Now,” I said, smirking, “you’re my accomplice.”

“Ugh…”

“If you can return them to the vending machine, then good for you,” I added, unwrapping another bar. “But try to live a little. Life’s short. With your job, way shorter. Aren’t you a tiger-shapeshifter? You should be eating meat, not… whatever that was.”

“If you don’t want it, I can have it,” said Mother absently, her hands busy typing on a laptop, eyes flicking through encrypted files.

“No,” Tigress muttered, finishing her rice box and biting into the chocolate.

“What are you doing?” I asked Mother, unwrapping my seventh chocolate bar. The sugar high was starting to kick in, and boredom didn’t help.

“Finding the loop Missive left behind on Tenfold,” she said, her eyes never leaving the laptop screen. Her fingers moved fast, like she’d done this a thousand times. “We can use it. I have to be careful, though… Dullahan is a powerful Technopath, and she’s almost merged with the building. Hmmm… It worked.”

She turned the laptop toward me. Dozens of small, grainy windows filled the screen. They were hidden cameras, each showing a different part of the Tenfold Keep. Members of the Ten were scattered about, some pacing, some working, some just waiting. It was unsettling, like staring at animals in a cage, except these animals could burn cities down.

“They were spying on each other?” asked a confused Tigress as she scooted beside me.

“They were spying on everyone,” Mother replied calmly.

I leaned closer. “How much do we know about the Keep itself?”

“Not much,” she admitted, her tone flattening. “I’m hoping the SRC can provide us with more intel. The building moves, and its structure is partially organic… something only Dr. Sequence truly understands.” She turned to Tigress. “Do you know anything more about it?”

Tigress shook her head. “No. But someone in the task force said they might. Guesswork.”

I frowned. “Never heard of them.”

Someone knocked on the door. Tigress opened it, and standing there was John Wolfe, in his usual trenchcoat and calm expression that somehow made everyone more tense.

“Conference room,” he said flatly. “Time to work on our strategy.”

Mother shut her laptop and stood, smoothing her coat. I followed just behind Tigress as we exited the break room, Mother closing the door quietly behind us. The walk down the hall was quiet, and the fluorescent lights hummed overhead like they knew something we didn’t.

We reached the room at the far end of the building. Inside were three people waiting. One wore a bonnet mask and black tactical armor, another was a woman with way too much eyeliner and bare feet, and then there was a ginger-haired man with a longsword strapped across his back.

“Yo,” I said casually, raising a hand toward the ginger. “Still intact, I see…”

The ginger glared. “Wolfe, sir… I don’t think I can really work with this man after all. He killed Sword Meister!”

“Yeah, your idol?” I said before I could stop myself.

Mother elbowed me sharply in the ribs. I coughed, rubbing the spot. Probably Onyx’s influence leaking through again.

Onyx’s voice echoed in my head, amused. “That’s not nice, Nick. But I must say, you have potential. The art of rage-baiting is a delicate art.”

Silver countered, her tone scolding, “Please, Nick… Get a hold of yourself. You need these people.”

The man in the bonnet mask spoke up. “Nullblade is right, sir. This man killed Gray, Thunderbolt, Paperbag, and my brother… Blink.”

“Who’s Gray and Blink?” I asked, genuinely curious. “And who’s this guy?”

Mother flipped open her laptop again and typed quickly. “SRC operatives. Big guy with gray skin, and a teleporter with kinetic nullification. As for this guy. He goes by Hover, carries a big sniper rifle, and he flies.”

“Oh,” I muttered, “yeah, I might’ve killed someone like that. I remember…”

But kinetic nullification? Must’ve been rated quite low, considering how he died.

I turned to Hover and added. “I didn’t kill your brother, though… Yeah, I didn’t kill him…”

Technically, it hadn’t been me who killed Blink. That one was Bunny’s doing. Speaking of him, I’d sent Bunny elsewhere for upgrades. With the funds from the bank job and the marks Mother hacked into our account, he’d have more than enough to install whatever new tech he needed. He probably wouldn’t be late to the party. It had only been a day, after all.

“Do you think this is a joke?” cried Hover.

Before the tension could escalate any further, Wolfe stepped forward, placing himself between me and the bonnet-masked man.

“Hover, don’t,” he said firmly. “We need him.”

I asked, “Where’s Leverage anyway?”

Tigress didn’t look up from her shoes. “She quit.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Oh. Then why don’t you do that, Hover guy?” I jerked my chin at the flier, the one with the sniper rifle who’d given me the hardest time when Wolfe’s task force closed in.

He bristled. “Leave? I’d do that if I could, but not after I put a bullet into your skull…”

“But you got a shitty aim,” I taunted, because I just couldn’t help it. “Maybe if I stay still, you’ll eventually hit your mark.”

“I am going to fucking kill you!” he spat.

I walked up to him slowly, arms spread like I was offering a hug. “Yeah?”

“It’s not worth it,” said Ginger quietly as he held one arm to his friend. “Get your shit together, Hover. He’s not worth it, man…”

There was a sudden chill in the room then, a sour hum of hatred coiling around the edges of people’s thoughts. I felt it like a breeze across my skin and turned to Wolfe. His intent didn’t flicker; it was a fixed, cold thing aimed at me. I’d felt worse forces before, but Wolfe’s precision had teeth. Ugh… I guessed that I should tell him the obvious.

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “This is going to be a life-and-death situation,” I said, more to the room than to him. “Bigger than anything I’ve been through. The highest-rated cape I fought is a nine, and we’re probably going to be walking into a fight with people higher than that, possibly a group. We don’t need fodder like this. See? I am being kind.”

Silver sighed, doing a facepalm. “No, Nick… There’s a better way to phrase… You really need to work on your people skills…”

Tigress snapped at me like a startled cat. “What the fuck? Fodder?”

“If we have heroes on this, higher-rated ones, we’d have a better chance,” I pressed. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind the Vanguard showing up, but they probably wouldn’t be delighted to see me. How about this place? This place has its own high-rated capes, right? Use them.”

John’s jaw tightened. “We can’t.”

“You have to do better than that,” I pushed.

He looked at each of us in turn, then folded his hands together. When he spoke, his voice was tired more than firm. “We are only allowed to use resources approved for us,” he said. “Hover, Nullblade, Healtouch… they don’t have a choice. Like you, they’re ‘privileged.’” He let the word hang in the air, coated thin with disdain at the idea of privilege. “Criminal capes who’ve been made to serve their sentences by working for the SRC.”

“I’m starting to think this ‘privilege’ thing isn’t so special anymore,” I said, thinking over my choices.

John explained like a man reciting policy from memory. “It isn’t. It’s meant for criminals with small crimes, from petty theft and fraud, to be given a pathway back into society as assets. They get training, supervision, and in return, the SRC gets deniable manpower. You two, Mother and Eclipse, are exceptions. Hover’s an exception too. He and his brother worked assassination jobs; they had six hundred years between them, but managed to gain privilege because of their talent for leaving no trace. The SRC is always short on assassins.” He glanced at Hover, who bristled. “Nullblade was a vigilante who refused to register, misdemeanor, at worst, considering his age back then. Healtouch here got caught offering unregistered healing services.”

Healtouch’s voice was small and defensive. “It was just two people, and I didn’t know they were capes.” She added, absurdly, “They were cute.”

I took a seat; Mother sat beside me, fingers steepled, expression neutral. “What makes you think they’ll be useful for this operation? Are they the only firepower we have?” I asked.

“No,” John said. “They’ll act as support. We’re sending SRC paramilitary on this one. Capes are too precious a resource. Besides, I have you to take the brunt of their forces. You should be more than enough to form the spearhead.”

Mother’s tone was flat. “You are awfully confident.”

John smiled, a little wearied. “I came up through the privilege program, little miss, and I grew from it. I know what I’m talking about. The leader of the Ten is an old colleague of mine, she goes by Mrs. Mind now, but she used to be called the Witch. Our cells were adjacent under the Warden. The prison’s not a place to waste chances, Eclipse. Don’t squander this one.”

Awkward. John had no idea who Mother really was. We’d presented her as a split aspect of Missive, and he’d accepted it, no questions. I’d expected him to recognize her if they’d shared a history, but either he didn’t, or Mother masked whatever familiarity might’ve set off his empathy. It made me uneasy in a way I couldn’t show.

Before I could parse it further, the air in the corner of the room shimmered. A wormhole opened with a soft electric snick, and Wormhole stepped out, followed by a man who walked with a cane and wore sunglasses indoors like he owned the light.

“Good,” remarked John. “We are all here.”