Breathing in lungfuls of air chest burning from the exertion. Drenched in sweat looking upon the form of Serleena who was currently teaching me with a few of Selene's daughters going through the warmup exercises. It’s been a month since my training with them started. So far they have made no attempt on my life nor have I detected even a hint of treachery.

Despite this, I remain vigilant. Surprisingly they never even attempted to deprive me of my weapons. Even the room they had provided for me had several different weapons in it along its walls. Ranging from simple swords and spears to blasters and slug throwers.

Despite my enhanced physiology this martial art of theirs still takes a bit out of me. Not as much as constantly training with my bullet time but still enough to leave me winded. I have improved my stamina if my current state was anything to go by when I first started compared to now since I could go for much longer before crashing out.

These women were monsters since they could go far longer than me. But then they all have been doing this since they started to first walk. 

First, we began with the basic stances and movements before limbering my body up, forced to do some rather impressive twists that would leave contortionists in shock. After the second week of constantly doing my best impression of a pretzel, Selene felt I was good enough to now begin the next part.

Sparring against her daughters. That was an embarrassing thing to have to do.  Nearly every day they would beat me and there was nothing I could do. Despite being much stronger and faster than them they still would beat me. There were even times I never managed to touch them once. 

Some of them were more neutral towards me, others made their displeasure of me being here known in their own ways. 

Despite the exhaustion in me I keep watching the black uniform that all of house Solorok wears that clings to their bodies and hides nothing of the lithe body underneath as we all appear to be nearly synchronized. The odd one out is me, unless you looked closely you would see it and for these Echani it’s plain as day.

“Remember, movement and flexibility are key. Think of your bodies as winding rivers and your minds can steer it wherever it needs to go regardless of how seemingly impossible.” Selene calmly instructs the group as I take her advice to heart as I have everything else they have told me before.

In my mind I imagine my body as a single droplet of water coming down a glass window, weaving around all the grime on it remaining clean and pure before reaching the bottom. My movements while doing so become even more fluid and refined as my mind begins to try and simulate that image as Selene now has a small smile while everyone else maintains that emotionless look.

None of them made much of an attempt to talk with me which may come off as disrespectful. I have not attempted to get to know them either so it goes both ways. Safe to say some of them are not pleased that an outsider will be fighting in their stead against House Atrix. 

But if they have a problem with that they can take it up with the Matriarch. After the first few days, Selene instead had Serleena show me the ropes in their people’s martial arts. I was surprised after the first week having several of Selene's daughters in the training room alongside me.

Serleena had said they also needed to continue their training and felt it would be good for me to have others training alongside me. 

“Very good Corvo. I believe it is now time to move on.” She said while knowing my growing dread.

Each of the girls lines up in different parts of the rooms facing one another as I try and figure out who to fight but have it taken from me as the one I dreaded most comes to me staring right at me as I fidget in place as she raises an eyebrow in response.

Letting out a sigh I gesture with my hand to get on with it. We both fall into our stances, one hand higher than the other both held at the ready in front of me as she mirrors my form but unlike me, she is as still as a statue. Slight movements could be seen across her body with her uniform not hiding much of anything with it being so skintight.

In comparison, my body was like an open book. Let’s say I could easily beat them in both strength and speed but when they could see what I was going to do before it had even fully initiated what good was it? Even with my strength advantage, they were able to figure out ways to grapple me and remove any advantage my strength would have. 

Hard to throw a punch and have it hurt someone when they could make it so you can’t move enough to put the force necessary into the punch. Enough. I’m overthinking things and it’s making it easier to read me. 

My current strategy is to not think about what I am going to do. At least not consciously. Similar to when I was in the zone on a video game like Devil May Cry V when using Vergil. I don’t think about anything I am doing simply going off of my subconscious thoughts. Instincts if you would.

My body complies calming itself down as the woman across from me now has a small smile liking what she is seeing as my small movements still as Serleena holds her hand in the air.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Several tense seconds go by. 

“Begin.”

I blur forward going for a palm thrust at Celeste as she leans back just in time to avoid the strike to my annoyance but continue to try and pressure her to make a mistake. Each step forward brings one of my knees in an attempt to either take out her legs or knock the air out of her by striking her gut.

Instead of taking the hit she flips back and continues to do so avoiding each strike. In between flips, I lash out with a knife hand strike at her side aiming to hit her ribs. Just when I think it would hit she flips at an angle as the strike goes parallel to her before her leg snaps out aiming for my temple.

My arm snaps out taking the blow and despite sliding back on the cushioned mat-like floor don’t step back and hold steady. As my other arm is about to begin the process of trying to strike the side of her leg she does something I didn’t expect and couldn’t see in her body language until it was already too late.

Her leg mid-air snakes around my arm and manages to hook the back of my head. My arm is straining to try and break free but is failing with nothing to grab. Her leg as it presses me closer to her she brings her other leg up but it’s stopped in its tracks by my other arm.

The entire time her smile has not left her face as I grunt trying to pry her loose and seeing darkness forming at the edges of my sight. Without any warning, my restrained arm is angled to slam her down to the ground as her eyes widen ever so slightly as one of the few times I have managed to surprise her as she lets go, letting me get some air back into my lungs and plants her hands on the ground flipping away from me.

Know better than to let her take the offensive several jabs and kicks are sent toward her but she evades most. The few she cannot are blocked and each blow sends her several steps back courtesy of the absurd strength behind them.

When the spars had begun as a means to help me further grow and to continue the training of the ones who would serve and fight for House Solorok she above all others would go out of her way to fight me compared to the others. Don’t know if it’s out of some unknown slight or simply because she sees someone different who doesn’t fight like the others and she wanted a taste and liked what she found.

Regardless of her reasons she had grown to be a pain to deal with since she embarrassed him far too many times for his liking. No matter how many times Selene or Serleena state how quickly he is learning their people’s martial art it simply felt like they were just trying to placate him with flattery. 

Don’t even get me started on how tedious this all is. Most would think learning an alien super martial to be cool and awesome. For me, it is boring, dull, and incredibly tedious. It feels like a waste of time for me. It has its uses don’t get me wrong it’s just why waste my time with this when I could sneak up on someone or just ambush them? Hell, just shoot them with a sniper and gun them down. 

So this month has been a test of my patience. Adding fuel to the fire in my mind I know I have improved heavily with my hand to hand. Yet at the same time, it didn’t feel like I had grown that much at all since the beginning. 

Sure my stamina had grown by leaps and bounds compared to before arriving here. But I have failed so many times on a fundamental part of the Echani martial art. Trying time and again to try and read their body language and it was a hit or a miss. 

Sometimes he thought he had seen what they were going to do and failed miserably getting baited. Other times he did manage ever so slightly to read their movements just enough to avoid a strike or something rather simple. 

But otherwise, I haven't felt like I have gotten much better this month. Having picked up their methods of fighting which involved their absurd levels of agility and speed and attacking from both conventional and unconventional angles and methods of attack. 

As things stand we are not to seriously injure one another and as such are all holding back. The sad thing is I know that these girls are not too slow compared to me. I am faster there is no debating that but the fact they are capable of seeing and reacting to my moves while keeping up just enough is terrifying.

Think about that. These girls who are not even masters of their people's iconic martial art are capable of keeping up with not just a man who may as well be a perfect specimen of perfect genes with his S.P.E.C.I.A.L. but is also a demigod or god depending on how you view the Dovahkiin but a Vampire Lord.

It’s like having a Gary Stu character as a self-insert who by all accounts should be the absolute apex predator to find out a bunch of random albino near human women can and will kick his ass and they are not the best their people have to offer. 

Only now is he finally seeing something tangible. For once Celeste wasn’t the only one successfully reading another’s movements. Watching the occasional twitch of her muscles along her arms and across her legs signaling the attack. She counters my punch only for me to halt the strike halfway through and grab her wrist before trying to sweep her legs.

She jumps over the sweep and bringing her legs in close to her chest kicks out like a mule straight into my chest knocking the air out of me. Letting go of her and falling back onto the ground before she stalks forward ready to continue.

“Yield.” I say between coughs as she stops and steps back.

“Well done Corvo. You have now begun to see another’s words through their actions.”

Rubbing my chest and feeling the ache from that kick. “I see you don’t skip leg day Celeste. You kick like a mule.”

A small smirk forms on her face, “Is that a compliment?”

I can only shake my head at that, “Yes it was. Four-legged animals used for farm labor. They may have been small compared to other animals but they were known for their stubbornness and of course their nasty kicks.”

“Well thank you for the compliment.” She says neutrally, sashaying past me. Making it a point to not stare at anything other than her head as she and the rest of the group leaves the room after Serleena dismisses them.

“Something you wish to say, Corvo?” Serleena asks me as I know that she knows that I am not in a good mood.

“It’s been a month. I feel like I have only just now made any progress. I feel as if I am wasting valuable time.” I let what has been bottled up out of me and tell her how I feel.

“Corvo, how well do you know martial arts?”

Her question throws me for a loop for a moment before I respond, “Not much beyond basic things I was taught in my people’s military.”

Images of going through boot camp surface and the times we were taught how to fight in hand to hand or how to handle a knife. It was never in-depth and just a means to teach us how to do so as a last resort since if you are forced to use your hands or a knife in a gunfight then something has gone horribly wrong for you.

She shakes her head at that, “Of course, most militaries don’t fully respect nor understand martial arts. Only seeing it as a last resort when you have been disarmed and help get their soldiers into shape. The old Mandalorians are a good example of this, but they did manage to learn some things from other people such as us Echani. Their art with a jetpack is one such thing that I don't see as a coincidence…”

Ignoring the revelation of the Echani possibly being responsible for the Mandalorians developing an obsession with being good with their iconic jetpacks I focus on her next words.

“The Mandalorians compared to the Echani are obsessed with their armor and equipment. It may as well be no different than their soul. They treasure it above most things, a much greater level than a common soldier. We Echani value our physical prowess and skill at fighting, weapon or not. The Mandalorians got to see the difference in these mindsets when they battled our ancestors which gave birth to the famous rivalry that the galaxy sees to this day.”

I merely give her a questioning look and the few twitches along her face and neckline tell me she is finding amusement at my confusion at the idea of a mindset or frame of mind. 

“As martial artists, we are not dissimilar to artists. It is in the name after all. We seek perfection, honing our bodies and skills. You who have no history in this art form have come in and shaken many who have spent the vast majority of their lives practicing and improving themselves. Corvo, you are absurdly strong and fast, but that is not what makes you so powerful.” 

Comes closer to me but I see she means no harm as her arm is raised pointing a finger at my face, “Your mind is. You have learned at a rather astonishing rate that far exceeded our expectations. You even have managed to start reading our bodies to see what we plan on doing within a month. Mind you it’s not perfect and you still have much to learn but you managed something no outsider has achieved in such a short time.”

I remain silent mulling over what she is telling me. I had felt like I was simply not improving in any meaningful way besides the occasional moment I managed to read their bodies simply because I couldn’t even beat one of the girls fighting me. The closest I had come to that was with Celeste but a moment ago. Even with that she still had managed to beat me.

“Your inexperience and lack of understanding in martial arts especially the one we Echani practice in has made it difficult for you to even notice if you are getting better or simply stagnating. Corvo don’t believe for a moment you are not improving. For most outsiders, besides a few special cases, it can take many months to even years to even begin to accomplish what you have. And that is only to scratch the surface.”

Corvo felt relief at knowing he was getting better and hopefully, this doesn’t last much longer. He personally just doesn’t care enough about the Echani martial art to keep doing this for years. It’s cool and some uses for it like reading a person's body to see what they are up to or feeling would be a massive advantage but otherwise, I see no reason to continue training this martial art.

“You think you don’t need this?” Serleena says with a pitying smile. It pisses me off when she does that.

“No. It’s a means to deal with an enemy without causing more problems for myself and the Hutts. Why use something that makes me get uncomfortably close to my enemies putting myself at great risk when I could simply shoot them at a distance or blow them up?”

Serleena takes no offense at my remarks and my feelings on the matter. Oh look at me I can flip and hop around like a froggy ninja and karate chop on the neck! Then blaster to the face. Guns beat everything. Then there is magic.

She chuckles before responding, “Think what you will Corvo even if I strongly disagree. History has proven your line of thinking wrong rather often. I will admit to hate watching you waste your talent. Even among the Echani, you are something that could be seen maybe once in many lifetimes with how much potential you have. But forcing you to improve beyond your desire to accomplish your mission will only muddy any attempt to get you interested.”

At that Serleen steps back as she silently signals the next part of the training. Cursing my horrible luck at having what appeared an easy and simple way to end this job as quickly as possible without angering the Hutts and instead getting a coven of sadistic albino witches who torment me.

The raised eyebrow Serleena gives me almost makes me feel like she can read my mind. Sighing and grabbing a single training blade as she has two this time… “That’s not fair.” 

“I know.” That is all she says with a small smile before I get the beating of a lifetime.

…

The Hutts had a long history in the galaxy. One that could be argued to be as colorful as the Jedi and ancient Sith. Going from warriors and warmongers to criminal masterminds trying to be the greatest and most successful among their people. 

Despite what others think the Hutts don’t go for criminal activities because they believe it to be a good substitute for their older tendencies to commit mass genocides in a mad bid to try and prove they are the best amongst their people. No.

All of them do so because instead of through combat proving their success, running successful businesses is what we use to measure our success. And how does a business succeed? By how much money it makes and how long it lasts. The former is the most important, the second is something most Hutts could care less about yet it is something that in Jabba's eyes that is something that can last far longer and bring in even more riches.

But back to his point the Hutts flock towards less than legal things not because they are naturally drawn to evil things. They are drawn to illegal businesses because they can bring in vast amounts of wealth and everyone no matter who they are will want to come and deal with them. 

Whether it’s spices or any other drug the sentient wants, slaves ranging from beautiful exotic women to fighters that can be used for entertainment, piracy and so many other businesses that generate so much wealth. Either in the short term or even long term. 

But some businesses are inherently better overall. The drug trade and smuggling for starters. Reaching his big arm down and drawing a squirming living morsel before eating it alive Jabba watched on seeing the two slaves fighting down in the pit as he laughed at a particularly nasty cut one of them gave the other.

The two Twi’leks in revealing clothes and strips of valuable cloth occasionally hand him more as he gorged himself as all Hutts tend to do. Drugs will always be in demand. No matter the era or where you are in the galaxy, everyone has a need for them. So it’s a business with no end to the wealth it can generate.

Smugglers are the same. If you need something that is considered illegal to some sentients in the galaxy or something that you don’t want to draw attention to, Smugglers are what you need. The better the Smuggler the more they are capable of moving across the galaxy without drawing attention. 

With drugs like spice, the better quality it is it can generate more credits but even much lesser products can still bring in a not-so-insignificant amount of money. It’s why even lesser criminal organizations tend to lean into the drug trade. Even with a lot of competition, you can make a nice profit.

Smugglers on the other hand require investment and a keen eye for Smugglers with great potential. So smuggling while lucrative requires a finer touch and experience in it if one wishes to reach the top of that particular business.

Both of these Jabba had dedicated much of his time and life towards and through doing so while gaining leverage over his enemies had managed to make a name for himself not just in the criminal underworld but amongst his people. There is a reason, unlike the others, that Jabba had managed to get a spot on the Hutt Council without needing to use his family's heritage and legacy to get himself a spot.

Something his father had taken no small amount of amusement from. As much as Jabba cared for his father, or at least as much as a Hutt could care since their form of caring for other sentients would not be the same, he irked and annoyed him to no end.

Jabba had made a name for himself by crushing his opposition and being ruthless… or at least more ruthless than other Hutts. But something else that is rarely spoken of but occasionally gets brought up is Jabba not sticking to Hutt traditions. Some of them he doesn’t mind, like the Majordomo. The vast majority of his people always had one.

As all powerful Hutts do, they pit the candidates vying for the lucrative position against one another, and the more ruthless yet effective of them get the job. Besides it being good entertainment for them and Jabba has to agree it’s rather enjoyable watching them try to undermine each other while trying to grovel before Jabba to curry favor by doing anything they can think of to get his favor.

As they should. Hutts are above the rest of the sentients in the galaxy and have proven this numerous times. Better business sense, long-lived and biologically superior, and powerful. Yet despite all of this Jabba was not a fan of other traditions. 

For starters the idea of the Hutts having a personal Adjudicator. It was something implemented after his ancestors had turned away from the old war-like traditions. The Adjudicator was no simple bodyguard for a Hutt. Their job beyond protecting the Hutt they served was to aid in problems whether it be a problem of some kind that required a gentle touch or something outside of the Hutt's sphere of influence such as brokering an important yet dangerous deal that could go wrong.

They were their problem solver for the more severe problems. The problem Jabba always had with them was that the ones the other Hutts employed were either far too trigger-happy causing more problems and using violence far more than was necessary. That says something when even someone like Jabba who enjoys himself a good slave fight to the death finds the excessive violence bad for business.

You can only solve so many problems with a blaster before it becomes more of a detriment than a solution. Besides the Adjudicators under the other Hutt's employ the other Hutts didn’t help matters by the few they had that were decent and had great potential got squandered by having them do the same thing with the Majordomos and pitting candidates against each other.

For Jabba, if both candidates seem lacking, neither one is getting the position. That position is an important one and should not be handled the same as other positions Hutts give their minions. A Majordomo is important but not in the same severity of importance an Adjudicator would hold.

Majordomos come and go when they get a Hutt's displeasure or a rival comes along and proves themselves more capable. An Adjudicator should only be selected when they have already proven they have what it takes to get the job done and can do so without causing their master more trouble.

For those reasons, it’s why Jabba never bothered trying to find one simply because of how much effort and in his eyes it’s just not worth it. At least he had thought as much until his father had contacted him out of nowhere as he liked to do to both him and the rest of his children or the other Hutts simply to get a laugh out of screwing with them.

One of Jabba's eyes twitched at the memory of his four hundred and thirty-seventh birthday he had decided to show him his gift which so happened to be a swarm of annoying insects that had flooded his old base that to this day was his personal favorite and now is condemned because of how the damn things would just not die.

What valuables he could get out were not as many as he would like since the flies had gotten a taste for some of the rare and old tapestries he had collected when he was going through that phase to pass the time. Something all Hutts do at one point or another, something that is both valuable but they have grown to enjoy.

He had lost so many of them and that was a lot of credits down the drain all because of a practical joke… 

His grip on the large bowl holding his drink spills some of its contents before he downs the drink entirely. The red and green Twi’leks grimace at the smell of the beverage before his arms wrap around the smalls of their backs bringing them closer to himself as they wrap their arms around him and rub his body.

His father was strange for a Hutt. Once upon a time, he was a ruthless crime lord but eventually, he simply stepped back. Started looking for anything and everything that could give him a laugh. He had it all! For Jabba, there is no such thing as too much of a good thing. Take all you can and enjoy yourself as much as you want forever.

But his father could care less. Jabba could never understand it. Despite Jabba's complaints about his father, he does respect him since he was willing to hear him out when he had all but told him to give the new rising bounty hunter on Nar Shaddaa a chance at becoming his Adjudicator.

Jabba knew despite his father's eccentricities that he was still a shrewd one when it came to business since he still had several businesses. He knows potential when sees it. Jabba would acknowledge that Corvo if he can use the Echani's local politics or some other means to halt House Atrixs attacks come to an end.

Many Hutts himself included have lost several businesses and a good chunk of revenue because of them. Even if Corvo fails he has bought them valuable time to get better defenses in place when they come to attack again. 

If he succeeds then Jabba has gained a powerful and resourceful Adjudicator to serve him. 

Watching the two slaves go blow for blow as the Twi’leks sword manages to make a nasty cut on the humans chest but nothing lethal while the other takes one of the two axes and catches the follow-up swing on one axe as the Twi’leks eyes widen in surprise as he is now defenseless. The other axe slams right into the side of his adversary’s head lodged in it.

Jabba laughs some more watching the now Twi’lek stumble for a moment before falling down and further jamming the axe into his head. The green Twi’lek falls to her knees, tears running down her face as she watches the man she loved who had fought and lost to gain her freedom and to run away with him.

Where her fellow Twi’lek was going through shock and horror at all hope being lost, the red Twi’lek tried to hide it but Jabba could see the excitement and relief at her being free now to run away with the man who fought and killed what was supposed to be one of his closest friends. 

Two smugglers who had known each other since childhood were in love with the two Twi’leks. Jabba had purchased them when they were captured in a slaver raid on their planet. The two smugglers had run afoul of Jabba and he felt generous and gave them the option to fight for his entertainment if one of them won then they could take one of the two slaves he had and the other would remain with Jabba until he grew tired of them.

Not long after having killed the man’s closest friend he and the now freed Twi’lek walk out of his home on Tatooine the other slave is downtrodden staring ahead broken inside at her fate as the other two stare at her with a downcast look for the freed slave and the man can’t even bring himself to stare her in the eyes.

A rare moment of generosity for Jabba since the conflict with the Trade Federation had started he had been in a foul mood. But with the Echani having stopped their attacks and the two former friends clash being a satisfying fight with the emotions they put on full display having made Jabba rather happy.

Glancing over at the mourning woman and noting how beautiful she is. The two leave now with newly gained freedom without saying anything as the crowd around Jabba laughs and enjoys the show as much as he did. 

Jabba noted one of the candidates for Majordomo Bib Fortuna was flirting with another slave, a female Rhodian. Jabba doubted he was interested in her face but rather in the other assets her body had to offer. The sheer netting that covered her body covered just enough while covering nothing truly at all to give one a taste of what lies beneath.

It’s something that other sentients had made the mistake of believing Hutts surround themselves with beautiful slave girls because they found them attractive, which they are not wrong. Some Hutts such as himself enjoyed their presence and used them to show their superiority, but that is not the main reason why they kept them around.

For a species like his that lived up to and beyond a thousand years those who served the Hutts that showed they are above the common criminal scum should be preserved. It’s how Hutts cultivate a lot of talent through trying to cultivate the seeds of their more capable assets. 

Jabba chuckles lightly watching Bib manage to convince the Rhodian as she comes along with him practically hanging off of him as they find a private spot to enjoy themselves. Never too much of a good thing indeed is all Jabba could think before trying to enjoy himself as those around him hold themselves carefully in his presence in fear of his anger being directed at him.

The Silhouette and The Forge 
Chapter 33  

Our enjoyment of the sake had turned into a one-sided competition as Jaina hadn’t failed to notice me holding my liquor quite well. For whatever reason, she had tried to match me as she shot back what was her seventh cup. Jaina had tried, but I could tell by her swaying form and the red to her cheeks that she’d had a bit too much to drink. She reached for the bottle, only for me to gently pull it closer to myself.

Blindly grasping for it, she focused on getting her cup until she finally noticed she was grabbing at nothing. Seeing the bottle closer to me, she laughed at herself. 

Seeing a worker pass, I waved them down. “I think my friend and I have had enough to drink for one night.”

“Very well, sir. You both have a wonderful night,” he said, placing his fist into his open hand across his chest as he bowed to us.

“And thank you for the wonderful service and meal,” I replied with a kind smile and a nod, earning a surprised look from the man before he turned and got back to work.

I headed over to the table, ready to pay for my share of the meal, but Jaina, with half-lidded eyes, just waved me off. “Don’t worry about it, William.” She stood from her chair, swaying a little. I held my hands out, ready to catch her, but she found her balance. “I’m fine. Just fine. It’s already paid for, William. Now, for our next stop.”

She held out her hand, pointing toward the entrance like she was signaling the start of an adventure. “Which is going to be home for you to sleep off the sake,” I said gently, but she just chuckled like I had told a joke.

“Ha! As if that sake will stop me from giving my respects,” she said, walking forward with improved balance despite the occasional stumble. I stayed beside her, ready to catch her if needed. 

She turned to me with a smile and patted my shoulder. “And you are coming with me. I want to introduce you…” she whispered the last part so quietly I almost thought I imagined it.

“Jaina, you’re drunk. You need to go home and rest. You can go pay your respects tomorrow when you’re more coherent,” I said, but she dug in her heels, pouting and glaring at me.

Before she could respond, Hong approached us directly. Thank goodness—someone who could handle this.

“Uncle Hong! Thank you again for the meal and for being there for me,” Jaina said with a sad smile, which Hong returned.

He grabbed her hands and held them for a moment before turning to me. My hope that he would talk her down was quickly dashed by his next words. “Even though you may feel you have no place going with her, please do. She thinks highly enough of you to visit them,” he said. Then, stepping closer, he whispered, “And because of that, I’d rather you go with her to make sure she’s alright. She trusts you more than anyone else who might take advantage.”

Jaina looked between us as he gave me a long, hard look. Finally, I nodded. He smiled, clapping my shoulder, and Jaina beamed.

“Just know this, William—should anything bad happen to her, I will find you!” Hong said far too cheerfully as he waved us out of the restaurant.

I still felt like I should’ve left, but as Jaina tugged me along like a child pulling her parent, I knew I couldn’t, in good conscience, abandon her. Not in this city. I sighed and followed her to a car that pulled over for us.

I opened the door for her. She gave me a smirk and a half-lidded gaze before slipping in. I got in beside her, and the driver quickly pulled away, leaving the Diamond District behind and heading toward the better-maintained outskirts of Gotham—wealth had a way of doing that.

During the ride, Jaina couldn’t sit still. She looked out the window, rambling small talk. Drunk Jaina was… an experience I didn’t want to repeat.

She swung from mood to mood—content, to mirthful, to deeply depressed—and she wasn’t just talking to me or the driver. She was talking to herself. To her reflection.

“Noooo, I am just a little drunk, not a lot,” she said, staring at her window.

The driver had rolled the divider up. He wanted no part in this. Meanwhile, I was stuck watching… whatever this was.

“Raina, you can’t even get drunk, so how would you know?! Oh sure! Hey Will, Raina says hello,” she added cheerfully. I glanced at her, then at the reflection. The reflection showed nothing but the back of her disheveled hair.

“Come on, don’t be shy—just wave at her,” she pleaded, batting her eyelashes. It might’ve been attractive if she wasn’t nearly toppling over.

I awkwardly raised my hand. “Hi, Raina…”

I had no idea how to handle this. Part of me wanted to jump out of the car and walk home. Another part was too morbidly curious—like watching The Thing. You didn’t want to see it, but you couldn’t look away. Jaina turned toward the window, as if hearing something only she could.

“It’s not funny, Raina. I don’t look drunk or crazy.” Then she recoiled, like she'd been slapped. 

“I am not!” she insisted. Her jaw dropped. “Don’t laugh harder at me!”

I finally looked away, doing my best to pretend I hadn’t seen any of it. The car rolled to a stop. I exited quickly, with Jaina following, her footing marginally better—but still clearly drunk. I walked up to the driver. 

“Alright, I’m going over there. You can handle the rest—” The driver smiled and shook his head. The doors locked with a click. I tapped the driver’s window, annoyed. He ignored me and turned on the radio. 

I looked up and saw Jaina standing at the gate to the cemetery, waiting. Despite the setting, she looked beautiful. Her emerald-green cheongsam hugged her body in all the right places, the slit down the side revealing just enough of her leg. I sighed. She looked so vulnerable standing there.

I’d get back at that driver one day. Maybe Legos in his shoes.

“Alright, lead the way, Jaina.” She nodded and moved through the cemetery like she knew it well, weaving between graves and mausoleums.

“Thanks for coming, William. I know it was sudden. But it’s something I prefer to do with someone I trust,” she said. The slur in her voice was fading.

Good. Maybe I wouldn’t have to witness another window-conversation.

“It’s… alright. I won’t lie—I’m not comfortable with this. But you trust me. And doing this alone—especially right now…” I gestured to her and the cemetery. It was peaceful, not creepy like you'd expect. Jaina nodded and went quiet. I helped her steady herself when she stumbled.

“We’re here,” she whispered. The joy in her voice was gone. A modest grave sat before us, flanked by two statues. They bore an uncanny resemblance to her parents. The detail in the stone was extraordinary—the father's suit, the mother's dress and jewelry.

“Hi Mom. Hi Dad,” she said softly, walking to the statues with her hands clasped.

I stayed back. This was her moment. I tried not to listen, but with a perfect memory, I couldn’t tune her out. It brought back painful memories of burying Dad and Uncle Furgus. Shame crept in, mixing with grief. But what’s done is done. No use drowning in “what-ifs.” Forward was the only way. 

Jaina waved me over. She knelt at the grave. I ignored the view of her dress riding high, trying to stay respectful. I knelt beside her. My suit would get dirty, but I didn’t care. This mattered to her. I understood. “If I trusted someone enough to bring them to my father’s grave, I’d want them beside me,” I thought.

“Will… these are my parents,” she said, her voice breaking as tears smudged her makeup. They fell like shattered gems. I brushed dirt off the plaque.

Mark Hudson. Eesha Hudson.

“It would’ve been nice if I could’ve met both of you under different circumstances,” I said solemnly.

Then Jaina leaned into me, eyes half-lidded, and kissed me. Her lips pressed to mine, her hand caressing my cheek. Her tongue darted in like she hadn’t tasted food in days. I pulled back, placing my hands on her shoulders.

She looked up, confused. “Don’t you want me?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“…I do,” I admitted, sighing. She leaned in again, but I held her back. “But not like this.” 

She paused, then looked around—realizing where we were. Her gaze fixed on the statues. Tears flowed again. I pulled her into a hug. She sobbed into my chest, staining my suit, but I didn’t care. I felt bad—not for rejecting her, but for the loss she carried. I knew that loneliness. That hollow, aching grief. Eventually her sobs faded. She clung to me for a while longer until I gently pulled away.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” she said. “You shouldn’t have come.”

I cupped her chin and met her eyes. “Don’t apologize, Jaina. It’s hard. Doing this alone is harder. I wish I’d had someone back then. I’m here now. That’s what matters.”

She nodded and fell silent, staying in my arms until she finally let go. “I think we should leave now,” She said. She faced her parents’ graves and whispered a prayer. Once we looked more presentable—me doing my best to wipe away lipstick and makeup—we returned to the car.

The driver rolled down his window and gave us a scrutinizing look. “Shut up and drive,” I muttered.

Soon after, Jaina went her separate way, but not before leaning into me, sharing one final quiet moment. The next day, I found myself in Kirk’s lab, nearing completion on my project. I’d begun crafting false failures to make the final result look like a hard-won success. A stimpack was close.

Kirk, less obsessed than before, had calmed down—likely helped by the presence of lab animals. He liked animals. They liked him back. Ironically, he was experimenting on insects and rats—but with care. His regret was evident whenever something went wrong. He wasn’t a bad guy.

I couldn’t imagine him harming Jingles or Jangles, our little lab rats. Even I would lose it. I noted down ideas—pathogens, robotics, surgical integration. Everything was going smoothly. Until a knock came at the lab door. Kirk and I exchanged a look. Then came the Chancellor. And Woodrue.

Of course. They never brought good news… 

Kirk and I shared a look—one that said everything. With these two here, it couldn’t be good.  “Can we leave them out there?” I muttered, making sure they couldn’t see my mouth.

Kirk coughed to hide a laugh. “Unfortunately, we can’t. Not if we don’t want to get into even more trouble than whatever they’re bringing.”

He keyed in the security codes, unlocking the lab. The door hissed open. Pam stood just off to the side, arms crossed and visibly upset. Her glare was locked on Woodrue, who smiled like a cat that had eaten the canary. The Chancellor, meanwhile, looked calm—too calm.

“Chancellor, what’s this about?” Kirk asked, cutting straight to the point. His shoulders were tense. Around Woodrue, he was like someone forced to sit next to a venomous snake.

Woodrue may as well be a snake—oily, smug, venomous. The Chancellor was more of a spider—calm, calculating, content to sit in his web and wait for prey.

I fought the impulse to make them both disappear. I hadn’t done anything to them, and I was trying to be better. Killing people just because they were obstacles wasn’t how I wanted to live anymore. The Court of Owls had been one thing. These two? Not quite the same league.

Besides, accusing them of anything wouldn’t get far. My word against theirs, and they probably had leverage, blackmail, or favors tucked away for moments like this. Just like in my old life. But since things had quieted down lately—Woodrue behaving, the Chancellor staying out of our hair—I’d let it slide.

That had clearly been a mistake.

“Well, you see, Kirk, we’ve had a… development,” the Chancellor said as he stepped into the lab, looking around like a man appraising property. Woodrue followed close behind, already drifting away from him, inspecting things as if he owned the place. Pam walked in last, exchanging a glance with me. She looked just as confused—and suspicious—as I felt.

“What kind of development?” Kirk asked, voice clipped.

The Chancellor sighed and shook his head, giving one of those practiced, politician-like expressions of regret. “The university has found itself in a bit of a situation.” He moved closer to one of the animal cages, glancing at the rats with clear disgust.

“Several of our Gotham-based financial backers have suddenly and inexplicably pulled their funding.”

Kirk’s suspicion turned to shock. “They cut funding? How many?”

“Too many,” the Chancellor replied. “Enough that multiple departments have taken serious hits. Even Jason’s,” he added, gesturing toward Woodrue, who paused and turned. Woodrue’s sneer lasted only a moment before he caught himself and replaced it with a thin, fake smile.

“Then why are you both here?” Kirk asked, clearly connecting dots—and not liking the picture.

“Because it’s not your lab anymore.”

“What?!”

“Why?!”

“You can’t do that!” Pam snapped. Everyone turned to her in surprise, but I gave her a grateful smile. Kirk looked stunned, but nodded at her in appreciation before turning his glare back to the Chancellor. Woodrue’s fists were clenched at his sides, barely hidden behind his coat.

“Yes, I can,” the Chancellor said smoothly. “With my authority as Chancellor of this university. Jason will be allotted time and space before we part ways with him. He’s had several notable breakthroughs that earned us increased funding from new donors. You, Kirk, have unfortunately become a money sink—with no tangible results to show.”

“That’s not true!” Kirk shouted, his restraint finally snapping. “I’ve had multiple breakthroughs—you rushed me, demanded miracles! My research could change how we see genetics!”

The Chancellor just laughed dismissively. “Kirk, tell me—how does your research generate money today? Not in some hypothetical future. Our investors don’t care about ‘mad science.’”

“Let the real scientist take over, Langstrom,” Woodrue said, stepping forward with a smug look that only grew wider when he saw the fury on my face.

“I’ve brought in plenty of funding and earned respect from the scientific community. I won’t let you drag me down.”

Anyone with a working brain could see the irony in that. Kirk’s research would change the world. Woodrue’s? A few minor papers about plants.

I clenched my fists, forcing down the rage. If I lashed out now, it would only hurt Kirk. I knew this wasn’t entirely my fault, but some of it was. Antagonizing Woodroach had probably made him want to twist the knife extra hard.

They would’ve done it regardless. That’s who they were. But the way they were twisting it—that might’ve been because of me. My gaze drifted to the research table. Then back to the smug faces. Even Pam noticed, giving me a sad look like she already knew what I was thinking.

Kirk looked devastated. I saw the way he stood—like a man watching his life’s work go up in smoke. If something didn’t change, he was going to snap. I glanced once more at the lab—my lab—and made a decision. Annoying as it was, I could always find another way to make a profit.

“Sorry to interrupt,” I said, raising my voice just enough to be heard. “But we did have another breakthrough.”

Everyone turned to look at me. Kirk gave me a confused glance. I offered him a small smile. The Chancellor scoffed. Woodrue shook his head like I was a child pretending to be a scientist.

“As nice as that is, Daniel,” the Chancellor said with condescension so thick it could be spread with a knife, “the lab still goes to Jason.”

Must not kill, I repeated to myself like a mantra. Not because of the insult—but because of the damage this kind of power abuse could do. To people like Kirk. To anyone honest who dared to do good work in a corrupt system.

“If you won’t reconsider,” I said, my voice hardening, “then the least you could do is look at what we’ve achieved. Kirk’s made something incredible.” The Chancellor looked like he’d bitten into a lemon. Before he could reply, a knock echoed through the lab.

We all turned. A figure stepped inside, adjusting his blazer casually.

“Sorry to interrupt if you were in the middle of something,” said Bruce Wayne, strolling into the lab like he owned the place.

Just when I thought the day couldn’t get worse, the universe rang my skull like a damn bell.

Earn Jaina’s affection and complete trust +100

Perks gained: -Her Majesty's Majesty (Fate/Legends - Empire of Antiquity) (100CP)

They say that every hero of these times was a marvel to look upon. The statues that remain from these years in modern times would seem to give that impression and should you eventually have one made of you, it won't fall short. Whether it's being beautiful or handsome, you stand out like a shining jewel even among heroes. Many can't help but gasp once they see your visage and it'll smooth out plenty of problems for you, not the least is finding a suitable partner. Your beauty will also affect the things that you make and rule over, even something as large as Rome itself, but this effect slowly takes hold over time. While a sword you wield may slowly become more ornate and fine over days of use, an empire might need years to be fully affected, but it and all it's people will be shining by the end. You can have this stop at a certain level if you like, whether that's to keep some parts of your empire ugly or just to stop everyone from maybe becoming self-obsessed snobs that never stop looking in mirrors.

Computation Technologies (Generic Cyberpunk) (400CP)

An Artificial intelligence isn't constrained by the need for food or water, but by the need for power and processors. You have in your possession the designs and documentation for computing technologies that are the peak of what a world like this can offer. Easily scale-able to whatever your needs or desires are, produced for either general or specialized uses, these are easily adapted to handle whatever you require and will remain applicable and top of the line for decades to the envy of others who might want technology like this. Why be limited to what the market can provide for you when you can have the best.