Double-Blind: A Modern LITRPG - Chapter 250
Power.
The thought pervaded above all else as the chimeras’ gory remains spattered to the ground in a collective squelch that echoed across buildings. It was too loud, too pronounced. Either he’d use some sort of magic to amplify the aftermath, or the effect extended over the entire region. Probably the latter, considering the absence of any sign of battle. There was still yelling in the distance, some more alarmed than others, but lacking the roars, persistent clanging of metal and shrieking of high tier spell casts.
“Showoff.” Nick muttered, just loud enough that I could hear.
I had to agree.
Almost awkwardly, the hundreds of Users shifted their attention from fallen foes reduced to fleshy puddles on the ground to the man still pushing his way through them, making a beeline toward me.
I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he approached. Aaron had irreversibly outed himself. It started this morning, when he’d resigned from his position on the relief council and revealed his role as a Guild Leader for the Order. But this was on a different level. Everyone would look at him differently after word of what happened here spread, both within the Order and beyond it. He’d have a lot more attention focused on him now, which I knew from personal experience could be more curse than blessing.
Tyler recovered first, sheathing the massive blade on his back and stepping forward, all smiles and diplomacy. He reached out a hand and Aaron shook it warmly. “Our alliance is already bearing fruit. Sorry to pull you and yours off the bench so quickly.”
“It’s nothing.” Aaron smiled. “Still game for darts later?”
“Can’t see why not.” Tyler grinned.
“Though that does raise the question of where.” Aaron glanced at me as he spoke. “We’ll need to decide the venue. Ordinarily, I’d suggest somewhere nearby, but… I wouldn’t want to infringe.”
This was the play. I’d harangued him in the meeting, going so far as to air out some of our pre-dome dirty laundry and serving as a heel. I hadn’t gone overboard or made myself appear irrational, but what I had said made it clear our working relationship wouldn’t exactly be cordial.
I looked around at the aftermath, stone-faced. “Quite the display for a civilian.”
Aaron followed my gaze. “Perhaps. This wasn’t something I wanted to be public knowledge, but the circumstances forced my hand.”
“So you are a User.” I pressed, dialing back the hostility of the accusation.
“Not as you know them.” Aaron waved a hand, his expression thoughtful. “I can’t engage with the system as you and the others do. But I’m not altogether lacking in the power that stems from it. It’d be more accurate to call me a divine conduit.”
Great.
“Hastur’s prophet.” I translated.
“Of sorts.” He stared at me with that blank, alien stare. It was probably the same look he used to bully clients and employees into submission at the hedge fund my mother worked at, before the firm’s extracurriculars got her indicted. “I hope with this, I’ve demonstrated our value as allies. A value that is perhaps worth the unpleasant ask of letting bygones be bygones.” There was a tinge of distortion to his voice, indicating that he was amplifying his voice loud enough that everyone nearby could hear it, most without realizing magic was involved.
I had to suppress a smile at the ease with which he was coordinating the stage, moving everyone in it into a clearly defined role. Aaron knew I didn’t oppose the alliance, just like he knew that I’d used the chaos to create a scenario in which I needed the order to save me. None of this was pre-planned, yet he took it in stride, playing off my efforts to further his agenda.
Terrifying as always.
There was a moment of tense silence as Aaron reached out a hand. Out of the corner of my eye, Tyler actually held his breath.
I smirked inwardly. After all the buildup, it’d be amusing to deny Aaron here. Create some trumped up subtext to slap his olive branch away. But that was little more than an intrusive thought. In reality, doing so would be as pointlessly obstructionist as it was short-sighted. Eventually—almost inevitably—we’d probably find ourselves on opposing sides again. And when that happened, I needed him to not see it coming.
Begrudgingly, I shook his hand. Tyler breathed a sigh of relief, and before I realized what was happening, Aaron swept me into a hug. My ears popped as the outside sound dulled, muffling sound from the city and isolating us.
“Rein in your dog.” Aaron whispered, voice low and furious.
For a bizarre moment, I thought he was talking about Talia, before I realized what he really meant.
“Myrddin?” I asked, smiling thinly. “You’re the one who let him off the leash.”
“I cannot run a guild if its members are constantly terrified and jumping at shadows. And there will not be a guild left to run if he continues at his current pace.”
Aaron was mostly exaggerating. It was true that I’d been heavy-handed with Sunny’s people, but they were generally loyalists that wouldn’t have crossed the aisle to Aaron’s side anyway. The few that hadn’t been staunchly aligned were problems in other ways. As slick and enigmatic as it appeared from the outside, the Order of Parcae was mostly ex-cons, dishonorable discharges, and other undesirables. In a way, I could understand it, even respect it. Even with the world turned upside down, second chances were scarce. I’d be a massive hypocrite if I judged them all based on background alone.
But there were some things even I couldn’t look past.
Still, the fact he was coming to me with this instead of approaching Myrddin directly was interesting. It wasn’t as if Myrddin never showed face at the Order’s headquarters. He was there fairly often. If Aaron didn’t want to approach him publicly, he could have used a third party to summon him to his private quarters. Instead he was here, burning a chit of leverage to negotiate with me.
Was he perceptive, or afraid?
“Might be overestimating the sort of pull I have with our friendly neighborhood Ordinator,” I hedged. “He doesn’t exactly come to me for approval before he does something.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Aaron snapped.
Fear, then.
He recovered from the lapse almost immediately, tempering the anger. “We both know you’d never surrender an asset you couldn’t control. Especially to me.”
“Maybe I’m losing my edge.”
Aaron snorted.
After deciding I’d put up enough token resistance, I rolled my eyes. “If I can spare the time, I’ll talk with him.”
Aaron’s grip on me tightened. “Oh? Some other more pressing priority?”
“Yeah. Finding the necromancer who just took a swing at my sister.” I growled.
All at once, Aaron’s grip loosened, and he relaxed as he realized what, exactly, I was negotiating for. “Necromancers are a problem for all of us. A destructive blight on an otherwise fresh new dawn. One capable of this level of incursion is an even bigger threat. You’ll have as much support as you need.”
“Good. Considering that, I’ll talk to Myrddin as soon as I can.”
Just before we parted, I forced a series of images to mind and amplified the emotion that accompanied them.
Dead dog. First pet, a corgi with bowel problems and a worse back.
Dead summons.
Dead sister.
Dead dad.
My vision watered, and a single tear rolled down my cheek as Aaron stepped away. He stared at me, slightly taken aback as I shook his hand again in front of everyone.
“Thank you, Aaron. For everything.” I said, voice warbling with genuine emotion.
Aaron bowed his head. “This was nothing. I look forward to the fruits of our future endeavors.”
Tyler nodded, discreetly giving me a thumbs up, while off to the side, Nick couldn’t help but shake his head in distaste. Aaron nodded, shooting me a coy smirk as he turned to address the collective group of Users, amping up his energy and voice. “Victory is ours!”
Go ahead, play to the cheap seats.
A raucous cheer went up, only subsiding as he held his hands out to calm them so Tyler could address the group, his voice authoritative and proud. “Alright folks. See a healer if you’re injured and help others to safety if you’re not. The rest of you, spread out and secure the region. Good job people. This could have been a helluva lot worse.”
There was a bustle of motion as the Users broke away, following orders. Only Nick didn’t move, his arm was up, hovering frozen in mid-motion. His face was pale.
“What is it?” I asked, dreading the answer. Among the departing Users, more than a few had stopped in place, their faces drawn. Someone moaned, the sound guttural and raw.
“Pull up your UI.” Nick answered quietly.
I snapped it open. And stared at the recent addition.
“Shit.”