The door to the Insurgents' briefing room slid open.
Indigo walked in first, with Gray and the rest of the team close behind. Each of them wore their Insurgent uniforms, ranks clearly visible, and badges clipped to their belts.
They all spotted Asher standing by the familiar projector screen, his hands folded behind his back. He smiled as they filed in and took their seats in front of him.
Once everyone was settled, he greeted them.
"Welcome back. How was your vacation?"
Indigo shrugged.
"Eh, pretty good. No tight uniforms or voices barking orders through a headset. Training was a bit of a pain in the ass, but we managed." Her answer drew scattered laughter from the group. Gray spoke up right after her.
"Honestly, it was a little… boring." The rest of the Insurgents seemed to agree—some nodded, others just shrugged. It wasn't that they missed the assignments themselves; they'd only really been on one so far. But some people just couldn't sit still for long, no matter how nice the break was.
Indigo and her team were definitely that type. Even Ochre, who'd been the most shaken after their first mission, looked almost ready for the next one.
Asher looked them all over and nodded slowly.
"Good. I was a bit worried some of you might've been discouraged, or even a bit shaken up, after what happened last time. But you're all as tough as I hoped. That's good. You'll need that strength for what comes next. But, before we get started—any questions?" He waited a moment. Sterling raised his hand.
"Yes?" Asher nodded to him.
"I just wanted to know… what happened after the operation?" The question had clearly been on his mind—and probably everyone else's, too. Asher realized then that they hadn't really been filled in since the mission. That was his responsibility, after all.
"Well, you'll be glad to hear the victims are safe. Some are still dealing with withdrawal from the drugs the traffickers gave them, but most have been reunited with their families, if they had any. The others were given temporary shelter. As for the fake activists from the hospital, they're all either being or have already been sentenced. Most of them won't see the outside world again for a long time."
Asher continued, sharing a few more details. As he spoke, everyone in the room seemed to relax a little, the tension they'd been carrying finally starting to fade. They'd all been worried—there hadn't been much news about what actually happened, and they'd wondered if their efforts had made a difference.
But now, they knew.
Still, one more question lingered—this time from Gray.
"What about the bastards behind it all? Do we know who did it?"
Asher paused at that, and the room fell silent for a moment before he nodded.
"Yes. But as you'd expect, it's complicated. The ones behind it were members of the Maron family—a noble family based in Mistral."
That revelation sparked surprise across the group. They might not have known much about Mistral, but the idea that a noble family from another Kingdom was involved in something happening right here in the Crater was a shock.
"So what's going to happen to them? They're not going to get away with it just because they're not based in Solitas, right?" Jade asked.
"Of course not," Asher replied.
"Atlas is already pulling together support and gathering all the evidence we need to file a formal international request to have the Maron family members arrested and brought here for trial. As you can guess, it's tricky since we're dealing with another Kingdom, but no one's letting this slide. I promise you that."
The team's faces grew complicated. No one was happy knowing the Maron family was still technically free, but no one said it out loud—maybe because they knew complaining wouldn't change the political reality, or maybe they just understood how tangled these things could get.
Asher didn't linger on it. Instead, his tone shifted, bringing the conversation back to business.
"You all did good work, but that's no reason to slow down. I'm sure you've all been down to the Crater a few times since the operation. You've seen for yourselves—things didn't magically get better just because we took out one power player. At best, we created a gap, and gaps like that never stay empty for long. Someone's always waiting to fill them unless we deal with them head-on."
He raised a hand, holding a remote, and pressed a button to dim the lights and turn on the projector.
As the room darkened and the screen flickered to life, Asher continued, "You might not believe this yet, but I really do want what's best for Mantle—and Atlas as a whole. But if you try to grow a flower amongst garbage, sooner or later it turns into garbage too. If you want to make your home better—for yourselves and the people you care about—we're going to have to clean things up. And that starts with this."
With another press of the button, the projector displayed a document. In the corner was a picture of a man, and beside it, a detailed written report. At the top, it was clear: the report had been requested by Asher himself.
"Bole Cye—goes by Bullseye in the underworld. How clever. To the public, he's an investor, always taking the initiative towards helping new businesses get their start in Mantle's oh-so-competitive market. But in reality, he runs one of the biggest loan shark operations in the city. Anyone here heard of him?" Asher asked.
Indigo narrowed her eyes, the name—or at least the nickname—ringing a bell as she nodded.
"Yeah… I've heard of someone called that. Comes down to the Crater pretty often when he needs to hire local gangs for 'muscle.' Pays pretty well from what I've heard, but keeps things quiet. He never hired us back when we were with the Night Talons, so I don't know exactly what jobs he gave out."
Asher nodded.
"Not surprising. Bole keeps his front clean by posing as a helpful investor. He starts off friendly, willing to back people's dreams with money. Then he brings in gangs from the Crater to stir up trouble—make people miss payments, deal with setbacks, that kind of thing. After that, he sends in his loan sharks, all while pretending he's got nothing to do with any of it."
He glanced back at the projector and switched to the next slide. It was basically a laundry list of crimes: usury, fraud, racketeering, bribery—you name it. And those were just the charges tied directly to his so-called business.
But Bole's crimes went even further. Asher kept his tone steady as he continued.
"Bole here has a real talent for holding power over people's neighborhoods. He's taken full advantage of it. Back-room deals involving people's spouses and daughters, multiple assault charges, and a long record of domestic issues with his ex-wife." Asher didn't go into the specifics, though the report spelled it all out for anyone willing to look.
It was no wonder everyone's mood soured.
Jade raised her hand.
"Wait. If you've managed to collect all this, doesn't that mean there's more than enough evidence to lock him up?" She asked.
Asher nodded.
"There is. Bole's had multiple cases filed against him, including one from his ex-wife. But, somehow, every case gets delayed for one reason or another. Evidence is dismissed as 'circumstantial,' and witnesses either refuse to testify or suddenly leave Atlas with no warning."
He didn't have to explain what was happening. Everyone could guess: bribes, threats, maybe people just 'disappearing.' And it wasn't hard to imagine who Bole hired to make those problems go away.
"Moving on, we've also got Raj Jay." Asher switched the projector to a new report, this time displaying a photo of a different man.
Everyone recognized him instantly.
Gray's glare sharpened as he muttered, "Oh, that piece of shit."
Asher nodded.
"Glad you're familiar. Unlike Bole, Raj Jay is a lot more open about what he does. He runs a gang—not so different from the Night Talons you were all part of. But his group doesn't protect people for free. The Crater's a dangerous place, so a lot of folks end up joining gangs for safety. Raj takes it further—anyone living in his territory has to pay protection fees."
It was a dirty practice, but that alone wouldn't have put him on Asher's radar. At least, not yet.
"The real problem is, there are no real rules. His so-called fees change whenever he feels like it, based on whatever standards he and his gang decide. Sometimes it depends on how much money the people in his area have. It turns them into little more than leeches—draining people in the Crater, keeping them from ever saving enough to get out, and forcing anyone who resists to accept their 'protection' anyway."
Asher kept going. One by one, he brought up more reports on the projector—an endless stream of names, faces, and crimes committed by the people responsible. Most of them operated in the Crater or Mantle, but it didn't matter if they flaunted their corruption out in the open or hid behind respectable fronts.
By the end, the room was thick with tension—not just from the long list of offenders, but from the fact that so many were still out there, untouched.
"They can't be allowed to get away with this!" Sterling finally burst out, unable to hide his frustration any longer.
That's when Asher responded calmly, "And they won't. Just recently, a few… 'details' came to light, and a whole batch of corrupt officials got removed from their positions for taking bribes. On top of that, dozens of new warrants have been issued for everyone on this list, after their old cases were reviewed with fresh evidence."
A slight smile tugged at Asher's lips as he added, "Which means they're all wanted felons now. Very dangerous felons, too—so dangerous, in fact, that the Atlas Police have humbly asked for assistance. Seems they don't think they can handle these guys alone. And wouldn't you know it, technically speaking, they're all on the run."
Maybe it was the way he said it, but in that moment, Indigo and everyone else couldn't help but think of Asher's parents—almost like their shadows were standing behind him.
"He actually managed to get warrants for every one of them?"
"Talk about connections... he's just like his mom and dad." The team murmured among themselves, the mood in the room shifting as they realized just how far Asher's influence reached.
After a few moments, Asher clapped his hands together, snapping everyone back to attention. With a click of his remote, the lights brightened and the projector screen powered down.
"All right, that's enough gossip. We've got work to do."
=====================================•=====================================
Driving down one of Mantle's many roads leading into downtown, two vehicles made their way through the early traffic. The first was a black car with tinted windows; behind it, a gray SUV with the same darkened glass, making it impossible to see inside either one.
Within the SUV, Raj Jay sat across from a woman. He wore light, tailored clothes that suggested he didn't care much about the weather—a style you'd expect from a successful investor. But there was a roughness to him: gold rings on his fingers, a predatory look in his eyes as he sat there, legs crossed and perfectly at ease.
The only other person in the car was the woman across from him, probably in her late thirties. She stared at the carpeted floor, hands clenched tight in her lap, clutching her clothes. She looked terrified. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, she couldn't control the trembling that ran through her every time he shifted.
Raj, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying every moment. His smile widened as he finally broke the silence.
"You look nervous."
His voice grated on her nerves, making her look up at him at last. She shook her head, voice barely above a whisper.
"N- No, I'm fine..."
He chuckled, the sound low and mocking.
"No need to lie, dear. And no need to be nervous, either. Just think of this as a business arrangement. Your husband got mixed up with some very bad people, and now he owes me a lot of money. It's a real shame he wasted what I invested in him."
"My husband would never gamble-"
"Oh, but he did. You saw the records yourself, didn't you? He couldn't help himself, and now he's in quite a predicament. Luckily for him, I'm a generous man—willing to accept... other forms of payment." Raj's words seemed to slither through the air, just as his eyes traced slowly over the woman sitting across from him.
Meanwhile, the SUV's driver kept his eyes on the road ahead, the faint sound of music playing in the background. Not loud enough to bother his boss, but just enough to muffle any sounds that might come from the back seat. He knew what his boss was like when left alone with a woman who caught his interest.
At least, the streets are clear today.
As that thought crossed his mind, the SUV and the car in front rolled to a stop at the red light. Not that it mattered much—there were no other cars around, and now that he noticed, there weren't any pedestrians either.
"That's weird… it should be rush hour by now," the driver muttered, glancing around. The street was completely empty.
Then, over the music, he heard something unmistakable to anyone living in Mantle: the roar of an airship engine.
"Why the hell is an airship flying so low? It's too damn loud," he grumbled. If he hadn't been worried about his boss catching him, he might've turned up the volume to drown it out. Just then, the light turned green, and the car in front started moving, with the SUV following right behind.
But as soon as they were crossing into the intersection, something seemed to drop from the sky.
It streaked down too fast for the driver to even make out what it was. But he felt it—a shockwave through the ground, vibrating up through the SUV as a massive plume of smoke exploded up from the center of the intersection.
Instinctively, the driver slammed on the brakes, the car ahead doing the same as they both slid into the growing dust cloud. Suddenly, the front car seemed to hit something solid—the rear lifted off the ground while the front dipped sharply down.
"Agh, shit, what the hell!?" The driver shouted, shaking his head as the sudden jolt disoriented him. As his vision cleared, the dust started to settle, and he froze.
Through the thinning haze, two massive figures stood in the center of the intersection.
Where their eyes should've been, there were only black slits, shimmering in the dim light. A symbol flashed across the surface of a thick metal pauldron—an arrowhead, hollowed out at the center.
W- What the fuck is that!?