MM - Chapter 214 - A FORGE OF ENMITY

Relaxation was a fleeting concept that evaporated long before Raine returned to Belehorn Tower. After Constantine’s sleek hovoursine deposited him and Pamalaiha at street level, they had traveled with purpose through the city’s shadowed arteries. Their first stop was Soulgen, where Pamalaiha purged her lab of any lingering trace of ReGen and retrieved her personal equipment. So far, there was no indication that CronGate had their eyes on Soulgen but it wasn’t worth the risk.

When Raine revealed their next destination, the doctor hesitated, a question on the tip of her tongue. He could tell she was conflicted about countering his orders, and knew that was something her clan likely punished with death. “Don’t hold back. If I’m making a mistake, I would rather know in advance.”

She exhaled sharply and nodded. “Yes, Master. I am curious why we do not kill all of CronGate’s experts. Would that not solve our problems at the root?”

Raine shook his head sadly, "That's certainly how the Noroji, or any other major clan, would handle this, right?” He didn't need to see her chin dip to know the answer. That was simply how the current powers of Earth handled their problems: duels in the day, assassinations at night. “We live in a whole new world now,” he explained,” the rules have changed. The longer it takes for a clan to learn these new rules, the further behind they'll fall. We won't be killing those experts in their sleep. We have a much more important use for them before they're allowed to die.”

Pamalaiha’s jaw dropped. Not at his words, but the hidden thoughts that came with them. She quickly hid the diabolical grin that pulled at her cheeks, realizing all over again how dangerous the man she chose to follow was. Before the auction even began, she was shocked to her core by Raine's casual disregard of the hundreds of millions of credits he’d been throwing around. It was insanity of the highest order. The revelation of his wealth hit her like a tidal wave. During the auction, her dizzying vertigo sharpened into conviction. This patriarch—her patriarch—was no mere player of a game; he was a sharpened dagger destined to carve a gaping wound in the Noroji Clan's - no, the whole world’s hide.

His treatment of her—respectful, honest, and companionable, not as merely another slave to order about—was a further blessing that felt too good to be true. Pamalaiha’s husky tone failed to instill the depths of her appreciation; such emotions had been lost for too long, but they were returning rapidly. “Thank you for taking the time to enlighten me, Master.”

She really gets into character when she’s wearing that suit. Can’t deny it; it's sexy as hell. If I’m not careful, I’ll get into it too.

Pamalaiha slowly slid her mask into place, hiding her lips while pinning Raine with fierce, ice-blue eyes. From Soulgen, they slipped through quiet streets to the mayor's residence, finding it hastily abandoned. The vice mayor's home was similarly deserted.

Satisfied his warning had been heeded, Raine led the way to his own house to grab Pamalaiha’s headset and the remaining stock of vital nutrient bars. Since he might not be returning for some time, he took an hour to top off the rest of the plants with mental energy, and, as anticipated, his watch chimed with an incoming communication.

Mason Mnemonic’s professional, disembodied voice sounded in his ear. “Mr. Desolate Broker. Within the last half hour alone, I have received over one hundred demands for the Ncode of the individual responsible for selling the Abenaki Powder.”

Raine snorted as his eyes swept over the subtly threatening message. Mason didn’t want to share his Ncode, he didn’t want these buyers contacting the Desolate Broker at all; he wanted to be the middleman and take a cut of the profit. The relationship was exactly what Raine wanted, too. This wouldn’t be the last time he needed to move valuable items anonymously. “I am unavailable until tomorrow. Contact me in ZionLine.”

A curt acknowledgment from Mason arrived before the connection severed. He and Pamalaiha climbed into her beaten up old car and headed to Belehorn. The entire ride, she clutched her thetadrive helmet tight to her chest, eyes occasionally drifting to him.

“If there’s something you want, just say it.”

“I… That is… I wish to amend our contract so it more closely aligns with Mel's.”

“You too?!” Raine shook his head, flabbergasted. “Fine. Whatever,” he sighed. “At this point, there’s no use complaining about it. Make the changes you want and send it to me.”

“Thank you!” Pamalaiha executed an impressive bow considering the awkwardly cramped conditions and the helmet in her lap.

Belehorn Tower had completed its transformation into a modern-day fortress. Every window, from the ground floor to the penthouse, was sealed behind heavy, steelphene shutters. A sea of anxious Ronexzera employees waited outside, barred from entry without Raine’s authorization. He pushed through the crowd, bloodlust extending like a phantom blanket to lightly coat the gathering. It was a subtle pressure, more an inquiry than a promise of death.

The intent of only two individuals stuck out to his senses, both releasing a flicker of anger that bordered on violence. Already connected to the building’s network, Raine used his watch’s interface to tag them for Morty’s surveillance. There was no guarantee they were spies for CronGate. He had drawn Ronexzera blood before when Celeste’s uncle attempted to abduct him; to assume there were no lingering grudges would be the height of idiocy.

He knocked once on the main entrance’s reinforced door, and Morty’s voice crackled through an external speaker. “Error: abundance of ambulatory meat sacks detected. Entry prohibited!”

Raine rolled his eyes, a smirk touching his lips. “Very funny. Let us in.”

“Fine,” the AI grumbled. “But if I find so much as a speck of filthy organic residue on my pristine floors, they will suffer together.”

Entering the lobby was like stepping into a surreal twilight. The ample space was illuminated by the crimson glow of emergency lighting. Raine’s people were crammed inside, their faces grim, hands clutching makeshift weapons salvaged from the tower’s offices and storerooms. War hung heavy in the air: the dense scent of sweat polluted by fear.

Mel broke from the front of the pack, wrapping him in a crushing hug that was over as quickly as it began. Raine stepped past her, facing the assembled crowd. His chin was high, gaze forged from iron. A subtle wave of killing intent washed over them, a chilling reminder that a predator capable of killing a master was now in their midst, watching, and waiting. But equally important, he was on their side.

His voice rang with unshakable strength. “So long as you are inside this building, you are my people. That means I, the champion of Carter City, will protect you. CronGate will try to intimidate you, to demoralize you, to cow you into submission. Until their siege is over, your only mission is to remind them of one critical detail: you are no longer just yourself. You are a part of Astra Infernum, and while that name may mean little to you now, it means, everything to me.”

No cheers or applause followed his words, but backs straightened, and shoulders squared. The suffocating fear drenching the room retreated. For now, it was enough.

Raine's gaze found Pamalaiha, and she dropped to a knee. Still wearing the sleek, dark armor of a modern-day ninja, she struck a sight that made an even stronger impression than his speech. “Take command here. Morty, get her a suite and fill her in on the situation. I’ll be back shortly.”

Pamalaiha dipped her head further in a gesture of absolute obedience. “Yes, my Master.”

Striding across the room, Raine sent a quick message to Celeste to meet him in his office. The moment the elevator doors slid shut, Mel rounded on him, voice strained. “We were attacked twice. They didn’t get through the walls, but it scared everyone, especially the children. And that building-wide alarm… can we do something about it? Morty wouldn’t budge when we begged.”

Raine’s hand landed on her shoulder—a comforting weight. “Absolutely. I’ll talk to him. You focus on calming down the families. Make sure they stay in their rooms. We can’t have kids and NCTs underfoot.” He squeezed gently as she mouthed the unfamiliar term. “Tell them we don’t expect a major assault tonight. CronGate will be probing our defenses, looking for weaknesses while taking minimal losses. They want to keep us on edge, awake, stressed, all while forcing us to spread our people thin before the real attack.”

Despite his calm reassurance, Mel gulped loudly. This wasn’t ZionLine; death here was brutally permanent. Even more unsettling: this place was her new home. These attacks were as personal as it got. Mel wrung her hands, a frown etched across her features. “What can we do? Should we call the corpus?”

Raine shook his head. “Yes, but not for the reason you think. I’ll handle that. Remember what I told Celeste? What’s the best way to set up a defense?”

Mel’s brow furrowed in momentary confusion before recalling the last elevator ride they’d shared. “A ditch? We can’t exactly dig up the streets…”

“No,” Raine corrected, a faint smile playing on his lips. “The ditch will be inside. We’ll line the external walls and hallways with barricades to slow any breach. Lock every door. We’ll only patrol in overwhelming numbers, even if it leaves blind spots. Morty’s drones are the first line of alarm, which means they’ll be the primary targets. CronGate will make enough noise breaking in that we won’t miss them. When they arrive in force, fight retreating battles until either Pamalaiha or I arrive to ensure we don’t lose people needlessly.”

“What about the spies?” She whispered, rising on her toes to speak closer despite the privacy of the lift.

“Morty is keeping close tabs on them. They won’t make any major moves tonight. Once Torune thinks our morale is sufficiently frayed, he’ll order them to assault the shutter controls. Since we know where they’ll strike, stopping them will be trivial. Until then, we feed them information that makes us look weaker than we are. When Torune finally shows up, it won’t be us who's trapped.”

“Okay!” Mel nodded fiercely as the elevator doors opened to his floor, a flicker of hope rekindled in her demeanor. Raine stepped out, but she remained, her thumb pressing the button for the lobby.

“Hey,” Raine’s voice dropped to a low murmur. “One more thing.”

Mel turned just in time to be swept into a deep, possessive kiss. He didn’t release her until her toes were curling inside her shoes. “I hope your bed is big enough for both of us.”

A deep crimson blush crept up her neck, but she couldn’t hide a radiant grin. “It is.”

“Good,” he winked. “I’ll see you soon.”

Mel bit her lips in embarrassment before blurting, “Yes, Master!”

Raine shook his head, a genuine chuckle escaping as the doors slid shut. Reaching the office he’d claimed near the top of the tower, he secured the nutrient bars in a safe, then called a tired, and now irritated Captain Hemlock. The man’s voice was grumpy and thick with sleep. “What?!”

Raine wasted neither of their time with idle chatter. “I need you to ignore everything that happens at, or around Belehorn Tower for the next few days.”

A gruff curse came from the other end. “What the fuck do you think we’re doing? Turning my city into a goddamn circus. Not my problem. Just martials being martials… unless you involve citizens.”

“We won’t. And we’ll clean up the mess when we’re done,” Raine promised.

“You better!” Hemlock snarled before the communication went dead.

Good. Now all that’s left is keeping my people alive through the night. Once the servers are up in the morning, we can go on the offensive.

When Celeste slinked into his office, her guilt was a physical shroud that bowed her shoulders. Hollow eyes met his stare, then looked away. Raine rose from his desk and approached, stopping to loom over her. “Speak.”

She flinched, jaw flexing so hard it was a miracle the words made it past her lips. “About what?”

His voice was a low command, devoid of patience. “About whatever burrowed up your ass and died. Lives are at stake. I need you at two hundred percent. You wanted me to rely on you, and that’s exactly where we are. It won’t always be easy, but you are not in this alone. Whatever support you need from me, you will have it the moment you ask. Now… ask.”

“That just proves what a fool you are!” Celeste shouted, the words tearing from her throat in her first true outburst since taking ReGen. “You can’t rely on me! I’m just a kid! I don’t know how to do anything! All I’ve done is cost you…” A gut-wrenching sob caught in her throat. “Hundreds… hundreds of millions of credits. I’m a complete failure.” Her head shook side to side as her arms wrapped around her shoulders. She turned away, prepared to run.

“So that’s what this is about.” Raine’s hands landed on her shoulders from behind. The vice-like grip left her completely unable to escape. His voice was cold, clinical. “I won’t lie, or sugar-coat it. You fucked up. Badly. You lacked preparation due to ignorance and underestimating the enemy. You cost Astra a fortune, and if I let you continue to lead my people, you’ll do it again.”

Celeste withered under the weight of his words, curling in on herself as if to disappear. Raine turned her around slowly. Delicate fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his steely gaze. “But who said education comes cheap? You just took a master class on getting your ass kicked, and you paid the tuition with my credits. Now, you’re going to make it up to me.”

Raine let her go when she stumbled back a step. Her arms rose protectively across her chest as she shook her head in denial.

“Not like that!” He flicked her sharply on the forehead. “You’re going to keep leading our people, and I’m going to keep guiding you until you’ve earned back what you lost a hundred times over. Now, enough moping. We’ve got work to do. What we’ve seen so far, what we’ll see through the night, is nothing. CronGate hasn’t even begun to get serious yet. They need time to organize, but not much time. I need you to set aside the drama with Pamalaiha and work side-by-side. The two of you are the only ones strong enough to protect our people. Understood?”

Tears were streaming down Celeste’s cheeks long before he finished, and a desperate frown waged war with a trembling, stubborn smile. She wiped furiously at her cheeks. “Y-yes. I understand.”

Raine desperately wanted to wrap her in a comforting hug. He remained steady. After experiencing failure countless times, he knew in his bones that at moments of vulnerability and internal shame like these, physical comfort was the deadliest toxin. The martial path was always tested in solitude; it was paved with grit and resolve that could only come from within oneself; from facing failure, and getting up to face it all over again.

When Celeste overcame her mistakes with her own effort, when the calluses on her hands were proof of what she, and she alone, had accomplished, then she would know her strength came from the only source that mattered: within. Then, she would be primed to take the next step, and the next, and the next.

Raine packed a world of affection into his soft voice. “Good. Now get out of my sight.”

Celeste nodded, body as stiff as a board to keep from breaking into tears. She turned to go.

“Hey!” Raine called after her. She turned back, wide, moisture-filled eyes meeting his playful grin. “I paid out the ass for your education. If you die on me and waste my investment, I’ll never forgive you.”

Celeste couldn’t hold back the sob that finally escaped, even as a genuine smile broke through her tears. She ran, but paused at the door. She knew if the words left her mouth, she would devolve into an emotional mess. She vowed them instead, latching the desire deep.

[I won’t waste it. I swear.]

Then, she was gone, leaving Raine alone with his thoughts. He briefly outlined a strategy for Morty and Pamalaiha, including a command to shut off the alarms in the family quarters, then began a personal tour of the building to reinforce morale.

Through the night, utilizing a clever and exhausting combination of delaying tactics, Astra held off the superior forces of CronGate. Every time Raine arrived to support his beleaguered people, another soul would break down weeping. These were men and women who had survived the gauntlet of ZionLine, but facing mortality on Earth was an entirely different prospect. Raine offered no blame or chastisement. He merely allowed those who couldn't handle it to retire to their rooms under the pretense of resting in safety.

He would never admit it verbally, but he was thankful to Torune and CronGate. The relentless threats forged his people’s backbones into the strongest adamantite. Every single one who left defeated, returned to the fight within the hour, their resolve increased tenfold in the fires of their own fear and shame.

Against all his desires, Raine ended up sleeping in the main elevator and not the comfort of Mel’s bed. He was woken a dozen times by Morty shunting him to whatever floor was under assault. After the second incident, Mel joined him, wielding a blanket and two pillows. It was far from cozy, but her company was a balm that would never grow old.

Raine would have been ragged by the morning if not for knowing how to perfectly control his body to force a state of deep sleep. He tried to teach her the technique, but she was too exhausted to focus.

Dawn eventually came, and with it, a sense of earned victory. His people were alive, though not without sacrifice. They had sustained several hundred injuries; stab wounds from pitched melee, concussions from vehicles rammed through the exterior, and severe burns from molotovs. The mental aid center in the lobby had been hastily repurposed into a triage center where volunteering wives and even some of the children eased the suffering of the wounded.

Thanks to Raine’s orders, not one life was lost. That was the only victory that mattered. They had survived in part because CronGate’s primary target was Morty’s drones, and their secondary goals had been attrition and fear, not a decisive breach. The real attacks were yet to come. 

He looked at the exhausted, battered, but living people around him, pleased with what he saw. Despite having yet to truly train them in the martial stances of the distant future, they were coming along splendidly. To date, their crucible had been one of survival against the deadly beasts of ZionLine. Survival was brutal and gritty—taking a knife in the shoulder to keep it from your heart; sacrificing an arm to the monster’s jaws lest it rip out your jugular. Survival was a martial stance in its own right, one not inferior to any other. It cared not for station or background; survival gave no credit to form, beauty, or grace. Its only regard was that of brutality, efficacy, and desperation.

Through fighting just to survive, his people had become much stronger than they realized. The fact not one of them died this night was proof enough of what they had been through. They were already survivors, and the pride Raine felt in admitting that made his eyes sting. Gazing at their resolute expressions, it was abundantly clear that their hearts were already like steel.

Still, they were not ready to openly face the likes of CronGate. Their physical bodies lacked the training to keep up with their budding combat instincts. Raine’s grin was a kilometer wide when, at the end of the long night, Morty informed him that the basement’s gym and martial studio were completed. His people would now be able to temper their muscles as they had their courage.

All too soon, they would be taking the advanced stances he would show them in ZionLine, and bring them to the outside world. God have mercy on any who challenged them then. Yet, before that day could come, Astra Infernum was owed a debt by those who had dared to strike at her; a debt Raine was eager to collect. Eyes burning with righteous desire, he tightened the straps of his headset, and fell up a tunnel of sparkling stars, diving once more into ZionLine.