“You make quite a few good points. I have given you reason to trust in my plans, but I haven’t given you a single reason to trust in me. Let me rectify that,” Nobody said, tapping a gloved hand against his white helmet. It falls from his face, condensing itself into a plain mask. He catches it and slides it onto the table. “Hello, Cassandra. My name is Eryk, and I am indeed a real person underneath the helmet. I hope this can assuage your worries a bit.”

  “Uhhhh. Wh-what the,” I started to say, stumbling over my words.

  This is Nobody? This is the faceless monster behind the helmet? It can't be. He's supposed to look like a creepy psycho fuck, not some boy next door socialite. He's young, much younger than I thought he'd be. He's good-looking, but it's his eyes that I can't help but stare at. Those piercing emerald pools practically glow when the light hits them. This is the blood thirsty murderer? This is who outsmarted Veritas? I'm not sure why I'm doubting what I'm seeing. The voice matches the one I heard before. It's him, alright.

  “I'm surprised. I didn't think seeing what I look like would leave you speechless. I know I'm quite attractive, but I do have a girlfriend, Cassandra. Actually, do you mind if I call you Cassie?” He asked, taking a seat across from me.

  The more I look at him, the more I can see traces of Nobody. This is the real mask, isn't it? Nobody is who you really are. I doubt I'd notice the similarities if I hadn't seen him unmask. The cruelty and manipulation I've witnessed him commit dye his features in a different light. His beautiful eyes are predatory and cold. The charming smile is practiced and fake. If we met at a party or somewhere else, I don't think I'd be able to see through his disguise. But that makes him more dangerous, not less. He's messing with me on purpose.

  “Don’t call me Cassie, I'm not a child,” I said finally. “I can't believe I'm older than you. You're what, twenty-one?”

  “Nope. I'm seventeen, but I'll be eighteen next year. I'll let that sink in for a second,” he said smugly.

  “Oh, for fucks sake. We got beaten by a fucking high schooler?” I groaned.

  “Not just you. Plenty of Capes and Cowls got beaten by a high schooler. The good news for everyone I take on now is that they can take solace in the fact that I'm in college now. I doubt it'll do much to ease their bruised egos, but that's on them,” he joked.

  It's still there beneath the openness and jokes. That edge to him, the dangerous vibe that makes him Nobody. Still, he's willingly sharing more information about himself than he has to. He could've just shown me his face and called it a day, but he didn’t, and that has to count for something. Giving anyone, especially someone as resourceful as myself, his name, age, and the fact that he's currently enrolled in college as a freshman is the same as showing me his driver's license.

  “Eryk, huh? I’m sorry, but that’s way too normal a name for you,” I said.

  “Sorry?” He shrugged. “What kind of name fits me?”

  “Maybe Mephistopheles, or Killian, or I don’t fucking know, John Superkill,” I offered.

  “Are you making a joke because, holy shit, those names suck. Weren’t you the one teaching V how to properly shit-talk? And John Superkill is what you bring to the table. I’m a bit disappointed in you, Cassandra,” Nobody, Eryk, said sarcastically.

  I can appreciate the effort he’s putting in to show me he’s a person under the mask, even if it isn’t working. The actual attempt humanizes him in a way. Still, in the back of my mind is a voice telling me to be careful. Maybe I’m being too cautious. Vivienne trusts him, and she’s a sweetheart. Isaiah worships him like he’s some sort of god. The other three are all off in different ways, but they all have faith in him. There’s nothing he cares about more than his secrets, and he exposed his face and identity to me. Am I being a paranoid bitch for no reason? He helped me find Murmur’s killer, has made me a shitload of money, and has kept his word on not making me do anything I don’t want to.

  “Forgive me for not being as harsh-tongued as usual. I’m still in shock that I’ve been working for a fucking child. It’s so embarrassing that our old group was trounced by a high schooler who had been a Cowl for less than a month. But I’ll get over that eventually. You said that this little face-to-face isn’t why you wanted to meet, so what did you want to meet about?” I asked.

  If it’s about what I’ve been working on, why not save it for a board meeting?

  “I’m just looking to hear updates on what you’ve been working on, and I don’t have any desire to set aside an hour and a half for a full meeting. Have you figured out when Shock&Awe and FrostWyrm are being transferred?” Nobody asked.

  “Yes. Their trial date is scheduled for next Wednesday, and when they’re found guilty, they’ll be moved to whichever Omnimax prison is chosen on Sunday. Personally, I wouldn’t be surprised if they get sent to The Island, both of them are repeat offenders and gang-affiliated. I was able to find out which squad the Union is sending as an escort,” I explained.

  “Oh? And whose squad is it? Titania’s? Sequence’s? KnickKnack’s? Or is it Arbiter’s?”

  “None of them,” I answered. “It’s actually being used as a training exercise for some probationary brats. It’s made up of Virtue, Adversary, Zephyr, Ward, and-”

  “And Stinger,” Nobody said, cutting me off. Wait, how does he know? “Those five are being trained by Phoenix. I’m not sure if you discovered that during your recon.”

  Are you fucking kidding me? You’re such an asshole.

  “You already knew? God damn it. Why the hell did you ask me to look into it if you already knew? Don’t give me busy work, Nobody; it’s a waste of my time and talent,” I said angrily.

  “Relax, Rorschach,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “I didn’t already know about the transport team. I just happen to be familiar with that particular team of Capes. Isaiah and I have had run-ins with that group before. However, I do have a bit of insight that you definitely won’t know. There is no chance that the Union will field those five Capes.”

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  “Do you want to explain how you know that?” I asked.

  “Virtue killed an innocent young man last weekend, and the team is split on the topic,” Nobody answered.

  “And you’re going to continue to be a vague dickhead about where you got all this knowledge?” I asked rhetorically.

  “I was there when it happened. She killed a longtime friend of mine in a fit of anger,” he answered solemnly. His eyes change for a moment, as his expression softens in what might be a genuine show of emotion. Oh fuck. He’s not joking. A Cape killed his friend.

  “Did you kill her?” I asked, unable to hold back my curiosity.

  “No,” he responded quietly.

  “Why not? You aren’t the type to take that lying down.”

  “Because she’s one of the most powerful Neuvohumans I’ve ever seen, a legacy Cape with parents in the Heroes’ Union, and a member of one of the richest families in America,” Nobody said with a sardonic smile.

  Seeing him so vulnerable and doubtful is a little pathetic. This isn't like him.

  “Who cares? If that bitch killed your friend, then you need to avenge them. Do what you do best: take her powers, take her status, take her money, and then take her fucking life,” I shouted at him.

  Nobody’s head is down, and he’s slumping in his chair. His posture and demeanor are unlike his usual. His hair has fallen over his forehead, and I can’t see his face. Shit. Was that too much? Shaking, I’m afraid he’s about to cry, but he starts laughing.

  “Well said, Rorschach, well said. I certainly don’t think you’ll be talking anyone off any ledges, but that might have been exactly what I needed to hear,” he laughed. “Virtue’s real name is Violet Graves, and a video of what she did is online. Find her for me.”

  He reaches across the table, grabs his mask, and transforms it back into his helmet. A purple projection of a young boy’s face hides the white alien-like visage beneath. Leaning back into the chair, the small child’s face is an emotionless mask. Back to business. It looks like my peek into the psyche of the psycho has ended. When he speaks, it’s a cacophony of different voices, jumbled together and talking over each other. Nobody is back.

  “I will after this,” I said understandingly. I know that rage that bubbles beneath the surface, that can only be quenched by blood.

  “What about that other thing I asked you to look into?”

  “You mean the Umbral Lord and their connection to Technologica?” I asked.

  “Yes, what’d you find?”

  “First, it was a lot easier to find information than I thought it would be based on your description. Not easy, I doubt anyone, but myself, would be capable of putting all of this together. Umbral Lord, real name Marco álvarez, was a Cowl that was active about a hundred years ago. Seemingly showed up one day out of nowhere in San Antonio, Texas. A tier five Manipulator, Alter, Ruler, Caster, Neutralizer, and Traveller, he only used his abilities to rob banks. Lived by a strict code of leaving civilians out of it; apparently, he wouldn’t even attack guards or police unless they attacked him first. But Capes, Cowls, BNA Special Agents, and anyone who attempted to stop him with force were killed without mercy. He racked up quite the body count in his day, estimated that he was personally responsible for the murder of over two-hundred and seventy-five members of the Heroes’ Union,” I started to say.

  “What powers did he have?” Nobody asked, interrupting me.

  “All of his abilities revolved around darkness, and famously, his triggering came with several physical changes. His eyes were pitch black, and his veins looked like they were made of pure darkness, visible through his skin. His blood was thick as oil, and just as black. He was capable of transforming himself into darkness, teleporting through the smallest shadows, manipulating darkness into limbs and weapons, and he could summon people’s own shadows to attack them. He could absorb anything into his own shadow, fire bolts of darkness, and when he got a Neuvohuman within his darkness, it muted their abilities. And that’s just the beginning of the list, Nobody. This guy was a stone-cold motherfucker. He never worked with others, not even a single partner across his illustrious career of crime. He amassed a fortune that could rival some countries' GDPs,” I explained.

  “Okay, but what’s his tie to Technologica?” Nobody asked impatiently.

  “I was getting to that. Because of his repeated killing of Capes, he ran afoul of the Union to the point that Union members were told not to hold back when facing him. No matter what the authorities did, they couldn’t catch him. They couldn’t even figure out his identity or his hideout. Turns out, the entire time he was living in Zacatecas, Mexico, with his wife and daughter. He wasn’t even hiding; he lived in a large estate located right outside of the city, and everyone there knew who he was. álvarez removed the cartel presence from the area completely, freeing the people from the violence and murder of turf wars. He used his stolen riches to invest in the city, and it became prosperous thanks to his help. By all accounts, he was a genuinely good influence on the people of Zacatecas, and they missed him when he died,” I said, taking a breath and holding my hand up for him to wait. “You’re wondering why I’m telling you this and how it relates to the machine bitch in the sky. I’m getting there, so don’t interrupt. We’re getting into the territory of things that I can’t entirely confirm, but I’ll go with the facts first. While álvarez is in Arizona robbing a bank, his wife is murdered, and their estate is burned to the ground. His young daughter, Maya, goes missing, and after returning to his burned-down home, he is never seen again in Mexico.”

  “He doesn’t suspect that the cartels could be responsible? Sorry, continue,” Nobody said.

  “Ahem, a week after the death of his wife, he is spotted in Casper, Wyoming. Reports make it seem like the local BNA and Capes were expecting him, because they cornered him into an already evacuated section of the city. Now we get into the speculation on my part. Instead of escaping, which we know he can do, he stays and fights. Why? I think they had his daughter, or someone did, and forced him to go there. An airtight perimeter with an army of BNA agents watching every inch with weapons, and inside are five Capes waiting for him. He entered this carefully crafted killzone, a blinding flash followed by an explosion, and he never came out. No one knows what exactly happened during the fight, but seven charred corpses were recovered at the scene: the five Capes who gave their lives to kill the Umbral Lord, a male corpse that matches álvarez’s description, and the body of Maya álvarez. The forensics in the field report said that the Cowl tried to use his daughter as a shield, and they perished together.”

  “They confirmed that Marco died? Did they test his DNA?” Nobody asked me.

  “His coagulated black blood was confirmed at the scene, but the body was too destroyed for them to do a DNA match. It matches the young girl’s corpse that was found in his grasp,” I answered.

  “Technologica would one hundred percent kill a child and five Capes if it meant she could rid the world of a threat like the Umbral Lord. She’s also the type to not write off any possibility that he survived, especially with circumstantial evidence. If she’s worried that he might still be alive, there’s a nonzero chance that he is. If I can find him, then we might just be able to help each other. Excellent work, Rorschach. Seriously, you’ve exceeded my expectations,” he said. “Oh, you and Miles need to come to an agreement soon on the apartment rent prices. We’re leaving money on the table the longer those apartments sit empty.”

  “Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes.

  “I have some things I need to go take care of, but we can talk more later on,” Nobody said, getting up and walking out of the conference room.

  That went differently than I expected.