Silver Lights

< Safe Haven
Manta was Silivia's finest dining establishment, at least according to Dexter Wellington. He was not a frequent customer, but never left unsatisfied. It was too expensive to come regularly and too risky to come whenever he could afford to indulge: Alchemilia had many connections to Silivia's wealthy elite, not to mention his well-paid generals. The only man he could trust here was the bartender, Aaron Fontaine.

On his last visit, a heavily intoxicated Dexter had asked an operative why the Lepton series was taking so long to complete. He should have been taken in for interrogation, then executed for treason. Aaron stepped in and informed the operative that the Lepton series was supposedly common knowledge for the upperclassmen of Silivia.

Dexter was not eager for a repeat of this incident, but there was no other way to celebrate the destruction of Remnant Rock.

A dark skinned man stood at the counter, montonously wiping a glass with a rag. He glanced up as Dexter entered the building, ringing a bell with the door.

"Dexter! My man!" He smiled. "Good to see you're doing well after, well, you know."

"Yeah, it's been tough, but I'm getting through it," Dexter walked over to the bar. "One Ambassador, on the rocks."

A group of three entered the establishment. There was a tall girl, with dark brown hair that reached her shoulders and bangs that reached her eyebrows, another girl with brown hair and a prominent blue highlight and a guy, a bit shorter than the first girl, with dark skin and short brown hair. The trio stopped and looked around the place. Savannah turned towards the other two.

"So," Savannah began, "what now?"

The bartender poured a drink, looking up again to see Jordan and the others. He waved, before pointing over to an empty booth.

The other girl, Lisa Fiss, stepped forward and took the lead. Walking to the booth, she sat down in it and pushed her hair out of her face quickly. She patted the table, telling the other two to hurry up.

Savannah followed Lisa's lead and sat down. She reached for a menu and scanned the contents, even though she wasn't very hungry.

Lisa quickly grabbed the menu and slammed it down on the table. "There's no time for that, let's begin. Tell me everything you know, and tell the truth this time."

"There's no need for this hostility. Calm yourself," Jordan requested as he sat down next to her.

Savannah narrowed her blue-green eyes at Lisa, and sniffed. "I already told you the truth," she said. "It's not what you expected to hear, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen. Who are you anyways?"

For a brief second, Lisa looked shocked at the tone in Savannah's voice, but it was quickly replaced by a look of anger.

"I've already told you my name, so there's no point in repeating that again. But if you must know, I'm friends with Jordan and Atticus' ex-girlfriend. He broke up with me when he decided to leave Silivia and join that group.

But your story is complete bullshit. I mean, you found Atticus and some girl in a random barn, both with no memories? And with a robot hiding behind hay? Please."

Lisa laughed quickly, before continuing. "I could probably come up with a better story on a whim. How do we know you're just not trying to get attention due to Atticus being on the news? Or even worse, a terrorist."

The bartender put down the glass he was cleaning at once, walking over to the booth and interrupting the flow of the conversation.

"Can I take y'alls orders?"

"Just water," Savannah said.

Before anyone else could answer, the scene was interrupted by a loud ringing. Reaching into his coat pocket, Jordan pulled out a small gray cell phone and carefully flipped it open, placing it to his ear. "Hello, what is this about?"

"Hi! This is Park Chae, I'm the secretary for Mayor Rosington," a female voice replied. "Can you come to the capitol building for a meeting soon? The mayor wishes to speak with you, I believe it's about the news of his son."

"His son? I'll be over in a few moments," he affirmed. "I'm at my uncle's restaurant, which shouldn't be too far." Jordan said goodbye and hung up. "I'll have to be leaving any moment. The mayor wants to meet me about Atticus."

Following Jordan's departure, Savannah continued. "I'm not a terrorist, and honestly I don't think Atticus and the others are," she sighed. "What I told you and Jordan wasn't the full story."

She spoke quietly now, hardly above a whisper. "Before we encountered the soldiers and Mulciber, Alchemilia found us." She continued on, telling Lisa of what she had witnessed at the Gladea facility.

Lisa stayed quiet for a few moments, before crossing her arms and snapping. "You do realize Alchemilia has protected this city for centuries, right? This kind of bullshit only makes it more obvious that you're a terrorist."

"Fine, don't believe me," Savannah said. "It's not like I'd buy it if I was in your position. We didn't even come here to discuss this: Jordan and I wanted you to help us find the supposed 'terrorists' behind Remnant Rock." She paused. "That offer isn't actually off the table, by the way."

"Can I take y'all's orders?" the bartender interrupted before Lisa could respond.

Savannah was a bit startled, having not noticed his arrival. "Just water." She still was not hungry.

The bartender wrote down her order and turned to Lisa.

"I'll take some chicaro ribs," Lisa said, not looking towards the man and keeping her gaze on Savannah. Once the man walked away, she continued. "It should be clear that I don't trust you, but of course, I'm going to help out where I can. I trust Jordan and I still want to find Atticus, regardless of what he's done."

"Glad to hear it," Savannah said. "We'll pick up Jordan, pack some supplies and then get going."

The two sat quietly for a moment, before a tall man walked over to the table and tapped his hands on it. "Excuse me," he said. "You're looking for the people behind the attack, right?"

Savannah froze. "Uh, no, we aren't. We were — well, that's not really your business. Why were you eavesdropping?"

"Sorry," the man laughed. "I was actually a part of the company, so I was a bit curious. I only hope your intent is to bring them to justice."

Savannah chose her words carefully. "We'll do our best."

*How long has he been listening? Did he hear what I said about the company?*

"That's nice," they responded dryly. The man turned to Lisa, who was listening intently to the conversation. "By the way, you should tell your friend it's disrespectful to take a dead person's identity."

"What?" Lisa asked, her gaze darting back and forth between the man and Savannah.

"I'm not impersonating anyone," Savannah said. "Your hitman didn't kill me."

"As if I needed to *buy* John Fontaine," the man quickly responded. "You're not giving him enough credit if you think he was a sloppy amateur."

"Maybe you're giving him *too much* credit?" Savannah responded.

"You and I both know the truth," the man snapped back.

Dexter knew Baptiste was probably harmless, alone and unarmed. He was concerned about his survival, but Alchemilia no longer had a warrant for his capture, as it was defunct. In the end, he decided he could not to stand by as Baptiste harassed the poor girl.

He stood up, walked over and greeted his former boss. "Did anyone ever tell you to mind your own business, Baptiste?"

Baptiste turned around, adjusting his rose-patterned tie. As Baptiste stood in front of Dexter, he bitterly recalled the man's actions at Gladea. "I'm afraid it is my business, Wellington. As director—"

"—of a department that no longer exists," Dexter interjected.

Baptiste was taken aback by Dexter's insolence. He knew he was tempting fate. "Remnant Rock wasn't Alchemilia Corporation."

Dexter smugly smirked. "It was a good start."

"Wasn't the Gladea location burned to a crisp or something? Isn't Alchem all gone?" Lisa interrupted.

"Yeah, it was," Dexter said. "Alchemilia's done for. You can stop acting like it isn't and retire."

Baptiste grimaced. "Honestly, I'm a bit surprised," he began. "I was hoping that you still had a shred of decency, Dexter."

"Oh, *I'm* the indecent one?" Dexter dropped the smirk. "You're hassling some girl because she *survived* an attempt on her life."

"*Decency is...*" Baptiste almost raised his voice, but he quickly cut himself off. Before he spoke again, Baptiste looked to a woman at another table. She nodded and Baptiste turned back. "If you'd like, both you and your friend can come with me."

"We're not going anywhere," Dexter growled. "You can't make us."

"I see," Baptiste swiftly removed a silver pistol from his pocket and aimed it at Dexter.

A ache abruptly affected Savannah's head. She groaned and tightly closed her eyes. When she reopened them, Baptiste's expression had changed to confusion. His gun had been wretched from his hands.

Savannah noticed a new weight in her hand: Baptiste's pistol.

"What the hell are you doing?" Baptiste shouted. "I'd tell you to put that down, but we all know you're not going to use it."

"I'll use it," Dexter offered.

The group heard multiple clicks. They saw some patrons had retrieved guns and set their sights on the table. The woman Baptiste had looked to earlier had a 12-gauge shotgun pointed directly at Dexter's head.

Utter silence followed for a moment. Aaron came out from the kitchen, processed the scene, then went over to the table.

"Rosseau, would you mind explaining what *this*—" he motioned to the assembled crowd. "— is all about?"

"Keep walking, Fontaine."

"I ain't gonna keep walking if you keep threatening my customers. Get your goons out of my diner."

Baptiste cracked his knuckles. "Goons? We're the ones dealing with the criminals here."

"Oh, really?" Aaron pointed to one of Baptiste's accomplices: a short, scruffy man with a shiny sliver Magnum. "'cause I seem to recall this fella bein' a suspect in the Johnson arson case."

The man's eyes grew wide. He was not expecting to be recognized.

"Got quite the bounty on his head. Her's too," Aaron looked to the shotgunner. She barely noticed.

A shot rang out. Aaron rushed the scruffy man, pushing him to the ground. He picked up the discarded magnum and shot its former owner.

Dexter went down to the ground, Savannah and Lisa following. Savannah gave Dexter the pistol, which he used to make quick work of Baptiste's henchmen. Most of them were focused on Aaron, who avoided their shots and returned fire.

The shotgunner knew better. She blocked out the sounds of gunfire and the sight of Aaron. Her only focus was a clean shot. She focused her sights on him, put her hand on the trigger and—

A bullet went though her skull.

With the situation turned against him, Baptiste sat hidden behind a restaurant booth near the entrance. He knew he could be discovered in a moment's notice, with Dexter and Aaron searching the rest of the area.

He set his sights on an escape from the front. He got up and prepared for a quick exit, when he heard the sounds of firearms clicking once again.

Baptiste sighed and turned around, slowly raising his hands. Dexter and Aaron were some feet away, pointing their guns directly at him. Both of them wore confident expressions.

Baptiste scowled. "Try me."

In an instant, the man turned and ran out of the store.

Dexter was about to give chase, but Aaron held him back.

"It's not worth it," he explained. "We got a lot of explaining to do already. An Alchemilia official ends up dead and we'll never hear the end of this."

Dexter sighed. "Yeah, you're right."

The remaining goons surrendered or quickly met their end. After the authorities were informed of the attack, Aaron, Dexter, Lisa and Savannah sat at a table.

"First off, I have several questions. Is there any reason you left Fontaine out of your story?" Lisa asked, examining her new sitting area.

"Figured you wouldn't take it well," Savannah said. "Your reaction when I admitted to leaving details out before, especially those that put Alchemilia in a bad light, told me to keep quiet about the rest."

"And you," Lisa began, looking at Dexter. "What was your issue with that guy? Why did all of that happen?"

"I used to work for him," Dexter explained. "Let's just say I didn't leave the company on good terms. Couldn't stand to see what he was doing today, so I had to step in.

"Now, I have a question of my own, if you don't mind — you were talking about tracking down the instigators of the Remnant Rock attack, correct?

Lisa glanced at Savannah, before taking the lead. "Yes, we are. We have personal reasons for doing such."

Savannah nodded.

"We believe that we might've known these people," Savannah said. She licked her lips, wishing that she still had her glass of water. It would help her wrap her head around what just happened. She was still baffled about what happened with Baptiste's gun.

"You're not alone," Dexter said. "I knew one of the perpetrators, Chris Wellington. He's an ancient android, made before the great war. He was made by my ancestor, Andrew Wellington. I asked about your search because I'd like to see Chris again. Do you have anyone accompanying you with basic firearms training?"

Savannah glanced at Lisa.

"No..." Savannah said, "but I doubt we will run into any big trouble. Though, we could always use someone who does."

"He's not the only person here with that," Dexter added. "Before I settled down, I served in Alchemilia's military."

"And I suppose you also have some connection to the attackers?" Lisa said.

"It's complicated. See, my brother John--"

"John Fontaine?" Savannah interrupted.

"Yeah. You know him?"

"...I can explain later. What were you saying about him?"

"John was assigned to Silivia not too long ago, he came to visit a few times. I called him a few months ago, and--" Aaron paused, tapping his fingers against the table idly. "--That wasn't my brother I was talking to. His tone of voice, his behaviour, everything was off. Took a second before he recognized who was even calling him. I thought it was stress, but he stopped responding after a while. Radio silence, never heard from him."

"..."

"Then, Remnant Rock. No way that was coordinated by someone on the outside, there were soldiers fighting their comrades through the facility. John could have snapped, I don't know, but you wouldn't believe what they had him doing."

Da sat on a wooden stool at the counter, patiently waiting for the next customer. Broken glass and a shattered ceramic vase was still scattered around the floor, albeit behind the counter. With his employer having left to the hospital, he was left to care for the building. Then — a customer entered the doorless entryway. A mother and child — worried looks plastered on their faces.

"We need your help, Da," the mother said.

"Jocasta? Roq'em? What are you doing in Silivia?" Da questioned, getting up and hastily walking over from behind the counter. The two came closer to him.

"Nicodemus — he's dead. We can't talk now, we need you to get us back to Aiola," Jocasta said.

"I-I —" he stuttered. "Come on back, I'll get you—" He began leading them out back to Li's truck, but two men in green robes and wooden sandals entered the shop.

The men walked towards the counter slowly. One of them spoke in a low, monotone voice to Da. "Give us the peppers of Silas' root."

"The pepper...? Why do you need the pepper?" Da hesitated, his head swirling with worry.

"Do you have it, yes or no?" asked the second, in a similar tone to the first.

"I—" Da started, being pulled to the side by Jocasta.

"Monks? Come on. What harm could they do?" she said.

"...I suppose, Jocasta." He walked to the back, to a tall shelf stock with jars and teas. He pulled out the third shelf and in the false bottom, he grabbed a small jar of pepper, scooping a small amount out and placing it into a tiny bag. He walked back out to two men and placed the bag into their hands.

"Excellent," said the second. He dropped the money on the counter, and the two men strolled out of the store.

Seeing that the two men had left, Da started up again.

"They weren't just monks, I'm certain."

He pulled a large book from a nearby shelf and placed it on the shop's counter. After blowing some dust off of it, he flipped through some pages.

"Why don't you and Roq'em stay for a while? You're safe here for now, and I could use some help around here since Yu is busy and Wen is. . . gone."

"I guess, if it's alright with them. What are you doing?" Jocasta came closer and hunched over the book, holding Roq'em's hand who patiently stood by the counter.

"Those men — they seem to be members of the obscure Frog Cult," Da said.

"The Frog Cult hasn't been active in millennia. Why would you think this?"

"The way they were dressed — it's almost exact to the way they did thousands of years ago whenever they were in public. They always claimed to be monks as well. It adds up," Da closed the book.

After being greeted by Park Chae, Jordan was escorted through the building and finally arrived at a door, with the words "Mayor Rosington" engraved on a black plaque plastered on it. He entered, seeing the office was a room with brown paneled walls and a blue carpet.

In the middle was a large black desk with a green table lamp and several papers stacked up, a dark-haired man with glasses and a hardy mustache sitting behind it and talking to someone on a phone. Jordan grabbed one of two black leathered chairs and took a seat. "Greetings, Mr. Rosington."

The mayor motioned for Jordan to wait and eventually ended his call, turning his attention to the boy. "I assume Chae told you what this is about already, yes? I take it that you also saw the news about Atticus."

"Yes. Don't mind me, but could you tell me why you've called me here?" he asked curiously, "I don't fully understand what you could want from me."

"Well, first, I wanted to know your thoughts on it. What do you think? And be honest about your feelings."

"It's been hard, for sure," Jordan confessed. "he may be a terrorist, but I.. miss him."

Rosington nodded and folded his arms. "Anyways, I wanted you to be the first to know. In accordance with GEU laws, a group will soon be assigned to track Atticus and the other suspects down, so that they may be brought back here and face trial before the courts."

The man paused in his speech and glanced down at Jordan. "If convicted, they'll receive the death penalty. And they will most certainly be convicted, unless, of course - someone else finds them first."

"Are you suggesting someone else should find Atticus before the search team does?" Jordan inquired.

"Of course not," Rosington replied. "As a law-abiding citizen and the mayor of this city, I would clearly not intervene in this case. But if someone were to, say, leave on their own and search for him, a private investigator hired by myself *could* assist them on their own time."

"Oh, I understand. Purely out of curiosity, who would this private investigator be?"

In the lobby of the Masquerade Hospital, Yu and Richard watched patients and doctors go by, until at last Dr. Esperanza arrived. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Yu asked the doctor, "Can you please tell me how Shen's doing? We've all been so worried."

"We believe Shen to be improving since earlier, but he's still in a coma." Esperanza said.

"We'll come back later this evening and check up on him. Thank you, Esperanza, for all your hard work," Yu replied, positively.

The long black-haired Munése Doctor nodded and smiled, before returning to the clipboard in her hands as the two visitors exited the hospital.

Richard and Yu walked along the cobbled path to the door of the Laboratory of the Mind. Strangely, the windows were tinted red, though, the two did not notice. They opened the door, which was ajar when they approached it and stepped inside.

It was not hard to tell that the laboratory was understaffed. A sparse number of assistants were in the building's ground floor, completing various tasks. One short woman, her name tag saying "Rachel Ariel," walked up to the two and greeted them. "Welcome to the Laboratory of the Mind. How may we assist you?"

Yu spoke up. "Do you happen to know Samuel Brownlee?"

"Welcome to— to— to the Laboratory of the Mind. How may we assist you?" Rachel repeated.

Richard and Yu exchanged confused looks and Richard then spoke. "Is Samuel in?"

"Welcom—"

"Alright, that's enough of this foolishness," Yu said, clearly annoyed. She grabbed Richard's forearm and moved past the unhelpful assistant. "Maybe we can—"

Yu noticed a pair of male assistants, one with silver hair and the other with blue, throwing a red ball between themselves. Another female assistant was furiously shaking a vending machine in the corner and humming obnoxiously loud. Ignoring what she was witnessing, she continued.

"—find something useful around here ourselves. These people here seem to be of no help."

"Perhaps Samuel left some sort of dossier somewhere? He was a very organized fellow, I should say."

"Let's look."

The two began up the grandiose glass staircase and through the endless lab stations. They approached a large table, with a large city landscape made out of clay upon it. Richard poked at a small figure of a man.

"Intricate, I must say."

"Didn't you know Samuel?" Yu interjected.

"Him and I were friends. We collaborated every few moons or so. He's been having me assemble something for quite some time too. He was always such a fine fellow."

"Interesting. What's this?" Yu pointed to a large silver cylinder with tubes extending out from it.

"I believe Samuel referred to it as the 'Allucinor.' It's supposedly a dream machine. I don't see any file around here. Samuel's study might have it. "

The two traveled back down to the first floor and through the kitchen to Samuel's study, now seeing the wallpaper moving. Searching through the drawers, nothing but endless folders of research could be found. The eventually gave up and left, but not before stating the place was a "madhouse."

Shen reached for a glass of water at his bedside table. Taking a sip, he exhaled deeply.

"Yu, I need to ask a favor of you," his aging voice managed to say.

"What is it? More water? Decent food?"

"No, no," he chuckled. His face turned serious again. "I want you to call my wife, Sunshine. I need you to tell her the state I am in and most of all, that I apologize for rash actions, I forgive her, and that I love her."

"I'll be calling Sunshine when I get back to Plant Empire, Shen."

"Thank you." Shen turned over, now facing away from Yu. As Yu clutched her purse and began out, he finished.

"And before you leave, make it a collect call,” he smiled.

Marked Map >

 S2: