Ripley

I strode up to the door, guitar in hand and Topaz on standby right outside it. "There's no way this will work." I could hear his reluctance to my idea in his voice.

"Hey, when you hold a gun I don't exactly notice it, or the clothes you wear. This will work."

"Sure you don't want me to just cause another distraction?"

"Considering how the last one turned up. No." I placed my hand on the door's console. "I'm opening up, three… two…"

The door slid open, and the guitar was hidden right by the corner. Its sleek strings, which I could perfectly focus on one second, disappeared out of my focus the next. However, I would've hardly been able to concentrate on it either way, considering that two Metal Heaven goons now held their weapons towards me.

"Who the hell are you?" A grunt with beady glowing eyes and a metallic voicebox tensed their pistol on me. "And… why… why were you in the Bishop's private collection?"

I focused in on my Psyche Function, wielding its newest protocol under a firm grip. Alter-Ego.

My mask was the essence of Dreadwire, with six golden spider legs extending from its center to create the image of six eyes and my two human ones hidden behind it. It was the very trigger that separated Dreadwire from Ripley.

What emboldened me.

I weaved this web, and they were nothing but flies.

My voice hardened, a soft steel undertone radiating as its pitch deepened through the voice-alteration of my mask. "I think you know who I am. Or should I let these say more?"

My back pulsed, four long and terrifying Arachnid limbs of black metal expanding out, curving to end with wicked blades. A fancy little addition I'd made recently.

"Shit. That's Dreadwire! He works with R0N1N!" One of them muttered to the other. "He's Gold."

"Fuck um… why… why are you here then?"

"To make things right," I said calmly, my mask tiling just a little to stare deeper into them. "I want to strike a deal with your Bishop."

"Bishop Stokry?"

"Is there any other Bishop here?" My voice sharpened, and I stepped out so the door could close behind me — and not before I could change its code so they couldn't find the unconscious friend of theirs I'd stuffed into a corner they couldn't see from their angle. "Now I suggest you act in haste. I am a man of little patience."

"Uh… right, right. Right this way… Dread- Dreadwire." They kept their guns off me for now, but still on arm, smart, because I didn't let my Arachnodyne slip back in either. They led me into the main hall, a lavish place with all the entertainment faculties of a club, complete with that same dead body which was now in a bag in the corner.

Bishop Stokry was impressive for someone in Metal Heavens solely because he looked like a normal human, at least from the outside. No robotic plating or visor sticking out of his head, nor an oversized arm with a hammer on it or four legs or… the list went on with these freaks.

Stokry's only visible piece of Shardware was his eyes, where three concentric circles grew from the center of each. And now, they were firmly on me as his silky voice spoke. "I was having a bad day, and now I can't tell if it's gotten worse or better. What brings you to my home? Dreadwire."

"I've come to make things right between us." I was now surrounded by at least ten of them, some wary and ready for a fight. All of them were curious.

"For the murder of Priest Norgwal and… Simenry." The bishop adjusted his suit as he took a seat on a couch. "Please, take a seat. Be mindful of the blood though, one of my underlings got a little feisty. I sure hate when dogs bark, don't you?"

"For me, it's the whistles that drive them," I said calmly, my bait set.

And the bait caught its prey. The Bishop hummed to himself, before addressing the rest of his underlings. "Leave the two of us be."

The grunts surrounding us nodded, many of them took one final glance at me and my Arachnodyne before leaving. With the pressure taken off me, I let my extended limbs slip back into the plates on my back, the stealth suit's cloth forming over them seamlessly.

I took my seat opposite the Bishop, my nervousness eradicated under Alter-Ego's effect. It was a fascinating experience once I disconnected myself from the identity I occupied. At times, I could forget that I was Ripley when I wore the Dreadwire mask, but as long as I kept a conscious thread leading back, there wasn't much risk.

At least, according to Elsa.

"So…" The Bishop took a glass of the expensive stuff, but he followed my every gaze. "Before we begin, would you like a drink?"

"Unfortunately, my mask stays on," I said firmly, my voice darkened under a slight robotic overtone. "But the offer is appreciated, Bishop."

"Please, call me Stokry. You're no follower of The Allseeing." He sipped his glass lightly, and spoke further. "So… you're aware of the hidden masters that lie at the core of this District's underworld."

"The Uncaged."

"Hm… now that is something I did not expect from someone who's only just started their descent into The Abyss. But I cannot say that I'm truly surprised, considering the company you keep. Emizren… The Iron Devil… Mirage and most interestingly, The R0N1N." He lounged comfortably as he spoke. "Normally, any person who deals with either of them deserves notice, but it is the fact that you're a Gold Adapter which makes you so remarkable."

My mask was all that shielded me from shivering as the concentric rings of his eyes each shifted to look at different parts of me.

"An Adapter who once slept in our beds, who came to one of our Priests and lied to murder him. All to steal a piece of equipment that is remarkably similar to the beautiful contraption you wield with such… glorious brutality. You claim you're here to make peace with the bad blood between us, so I find it's only right to repair it by returning to us what you have stolen."

"I'm afraid I can not do that," I affirmed tightly.

"Then you will let us know who has created that marvelous piece." The Bishop leaned in, the hidden seams of his arms glowing a bright and potent Silver.

Who made my Shardware?… "His name is… The Ripper."

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Was I an idiot? I'd basically just shared the first three letters of my name with them. But there was an idea brewing in my head, one that would take some time, but could reap insane profits.

"The Ripper…" Stokry repeated to himself. "I cannot say I have heard of any Shard Operator with that name, but I am not as omniscient as my god. Will this Operator work for us?"

"He'll work with you. For a price—" Then I felt the need to add, "—and it's not cheap."

"Of course, I'm well aware of the Shardyne that this art exhausts." The Bishop stared at me warmly. "Well, consider that as the appeasement of Norgwal's death. As for Simenry… well, he was my nephew, it will take more to satisfy me."

Shit. How did I not notice it… Simenry…

Stokry…

"And what would that be?" I tried to answer without sounding too shaken up by the connection, it came easier with Psyche's Alter-Ego Protocol.

"The stupid boy was a terrible, worthless, excuse of a human. Fool believed in the contemporary side of our belief. It's simple, really, I want another Priest from their side dead. A Shard Operator who… is quite the issue for my branch. She goes by Anissa. Bring her to heel and… that'll be your debt repaid."

Database quickly retrieved all the information necessary for me to make my choice. Orthodox vs. Contemporary MALism — the belief that the MAL are not our enemies but either divine deities or divine sources of knowledge rather than purely predatory aliens. Metal Heavens was founded on this belief, but the two sides were often at a cold war with each other following Diamante's destruction of their original leadership almost thirty years ago under his Iron Devil identity. That was what I'd managed to gather based on my own research and understanding of the topic.

I didn't have an allegiance with either side.

"Consider it done."

"Now that it's been dealt with, I believe we have some merit to discuss our shadowy lurkers." The Bishop chuckled to himself. "You mentioned a dislike of The Dogwhistler…"

"Correct, her intervention has caused me issues in the past."

"And you seek our help to now settle your bonds with our divine herald as well." He nodded understandingly to himself.

I paused… internally. Hypermind taking over, I tried to dissect the information he just revealed to me. Dogwhistler was the divine herald of… Metal Heavens? Or from what it seemed, Orthodox Metal Heavens. It hadn't struck me as too odd. She was an assumed Titanium Data-Delver who could control any of her homeless thralls as puppets. And each of them carried better Shardware than most Bronze lieutenants of the four principal gangs here.

Someone, somewhere was outfitting them.

My dissection of the woman Dogwhistler controlled a few weeks ago was enough evidence. And a tasty treat for my arsenal, where else had I found blades capable of withstanding my Arachne's torturous movement?

Slipping back into normal time, I nodded affirmingly. "That is correct."

"I cannot speak for her myself…" Stokry mused. "But I cannot doubt the judgment of our Oracle, her revelations are fact. If she sees you as our enemy, I will have no choice but to act. However, that does not stop me from inquiring about you, or mentioning to her that I have found a great use for you. Perhaps, it is not too late for you to be in her light, or perhaps… she has even seen your arrival here."

"I do not believe in fate, but I do believe we may not need to be enemies." I stood up, any longer conversation and I might let on that I didn't know much else about The Dogwhistler's relation to Metal Heavens.

As much as I wanted to learn about it, I was more than willing to leave without antagonizing a Tier III Silver. I'd barely beaten a Tier II last time, and that was through trickery. I might be in the second Tier myself now, but I'd learned since about overestimating myself.

He stood up the same, raising his hand to shake mine. I shook it, feeling unsteady, knowing he could probably rip my arm off right now if he wanted to. "Oh, and I hope that my guitar fetches a good price."

His hand gripped just a little bit tighter, and I sensed the metal plating bending at the stress. It would have bent more had I not tempered it with the Shardweave Feature. He actually seemed to have made a face at the unexpected strength of my hand before speaking.

"My… I truly want to meet your Operator now." His smile was beyond creepy, practically salivating at the sight of my Shardware.

"I'll let him know. As for your guitar, I've been assured it'll end up in good hands."

"It's quite the precious instrument you see, belonged to a 2030's musician whose stage name was Silverhand. I can wholly recommend his music, though… old world media is quite expensive. But I find it to be… truly connective. The past is a wonderful thing."

"I'm sure that they lived in much happier times."

The Bishop broke into a fit of snorts at my comment. "Oh no, they were miserable. Why else would they have killed their entire society? And that was before the MAL invaded."

"Right… I'll be seeing you soon then. How should I contact you?"

"Oh… let me worry about that. She'll know when the job is done."

———

Walking briskly towards the outdoor lounge, I found Topaz sitting on the ledge strumming a terrible tune with the guitar. I grabbed him by the shirt and took the guitar in my other hand, before jumping off the ledge.

"Ay, what the shit? What the shit!" He clawed his grasp onto me. "Why are you in such a hurry?!"

"That guy gives me the creeps," I responded flatly as my Arachne hooked us onto a building, pulling us through alleyways.

I'd learned much more than I intended to today about The Dogwhistler. That had reminded me too much of one key fact.

She knew about my ability to see memories within Implants. Something that couldn't have gotten out unless one of my allies had leaked it to her.

That included Topaz, and my grip got a little tighter over him.

"Ow, ow! Your nails are sharp!"

"Do you want to fall?"

"…No?"

"Then shut up."

———

The client was only a few blocks away, a car parked with a buff Los Diablos man waiting. Even from afar, I could attune myself to the signature of his Warp Energy through Frequency Sync. Another damn Silver, but I couldn't feel his Tier which meant that he was a SIM Adapter.

I dropped onto the quiet street, the guitar taking more of my care than Topaz who rolled across the pavement as my momentum suddenly stopped.

The Silver raised his eyebrows at our arrival in amusement. He had a bushy and twirled up moustache that moved humorously as he spoke with his twangy accent. "Now that's one hell of a way to make an entrance. I see you got ma' guitar all up in your claws, Dread. Why… you're even more fearsome in the flesh!"

"In the steel." I held the guitar tight, not willing to part with it just yet. "The money first."

"No worries, Mista-Wire." He pulled out something I hadn't seen in a long while. A portable Warptablet. Not many people bothered with them since a Neuroframe could handle most of your daily functions. Last person who I saw used them was…

I… actually couldn't remember. Except… pink.

Pink? Okay now my frame was acting up, I had better things to focus on as Missy's message appeared in my lens.

[Money received, sending 80k your way.]

80k Shardyne wasn't a lot in comparison to the 1.25 Million Shardyne payout R0N1N had given me, but compared to most Merc contracts it was quite the fetch for a simple robbery. Or was this just normal theft?

I handed over the guitar, the man gleefully running his hands over it like a rich kid receiving a pet Synthdog. "It's beautiful."

Then he hoisted up into the air, and smashed it down onto the hood of his car, again and again as splinters and string bled into the air.

"Okay…" I let out a confused whisper. "That seems like a waste of Shards."

"Oh? This?" The man tossed the wreckage of broken wood into the trunk of his car. "Nah, it's what all the old rockerboys did back in the day. You should see my collection. Besides I know old Johnny's smiling at me down from the depths of hell. After all, we're two Devils much the same!"

Oh shit, this guy was a Devil of Los Diablos? That put him on par with the Bishop in terms of the criminal hierarchy. Before I could respond, Missy sent another message my way.

[By the way, I negotiated something for you. Just remind him of it.]

"I believe our deal is not yet concluded," I said.

This confusing Silver Devil scratched his moustache as though in thought. "Ah, right! I never introduced myself by the way, call me Monty or Montgomery. Though I suppose most people know me as the Devil Handlebar, Missy worked out a little something to forgive you for killing uh… what's his name? It was a producer of ours and his bodyguard. Anyway, all you gotta do is appear in one of our music videos."

"I… what?" Even my Dreadwire Ego couldn't remain stoic at that.

"Missy'll contact you." Monty smiled at me as he got into his car. "Pleasure doin' business Dread!"

He reversed the muscle car out and before long, it was out from my stupefied mind. A music video?

Topaz was humored even as he rubbed his back. "Oh by Haithama's nutsack, they're gonna put you on a Devil's Triad song!"

"Should I be worried about that?"

"At best, you're about to get a whole lot more popular. At worst, you'll be infamous for… well… a shit song being attached to your name."

I sighed into my mask. "All of you said being a merc was difficult, why didn't anyone say it was so damn weird?!"

"Get used to it. Even Di appeared on a music video of The Souls, it's uh… Devil's Wrath or something — was a diss track actually to Devil's Triad. Shit was terrible but he alone made that song cross the top 10 on the charts on Abyssify."

"Uh huh…" Guess I just had to make the most of this opportunity somehow.

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