ROD - Chapter 104

Chapter One-Hundred-Four – Thunder – Part One 

A person is measured by their ideas, and ideas are measured by their impact. Dream… Ideas Have No Limits. 

-CEO of IHNL Maverick- 

There was a man who once tried to become the supreme leader of the UWO in the early days of its inception. A position that does not exist. Ultimately, he didn’t fail because people didn’t see a reason for having one. He failed because he didn’t have a cause to rally people behind, the UWO had already won that year, they were the toast at every table in every home. Some experts believe that he may have succeeded if he would have tried to seize power before the quota was met for the year. Others say that if he had ensured we failed he would have had a better chance. No one really knows though, he did fail, and they executed him for it. 

Most countries were democratic, or at least gave the illusion of it. Before that we had kings and queens. Something about the Chairs reminds me of the old ways. Each looks regal and important, each explains themselves well and articulates their worth with words alone. Yet most of their hands do not bear scars, almost none of their eyes look like they see horrors when they sleep.  

They look… happy, proud, and entitled. Maybe it’s just me, maybe I’m reading into it too much. It’s easy to think other people have it easier than you, because you’re not in their shoes day to day. Every person has their own obstacles. Every person has their own tragedies. After a time we stop seeing them as that though, we start feeling them like they are deserved, like they are part of life… I look down at my hands and sigh. So many fickle thoughts fill my mind when my hands aren’t busy.  

Sometimes I feel like I’ve lived a thousand lives, with all the memories I have felt, perhaps I have, in a way. Soon, I will make a choice that will change the trajectory of my own life’s story. A decision that I can’t go back on. A decision that will change who I am. One that may change her opinion of me. Yet, if it gives me the tools to help her… to protect her.  

Then I’ll choose it. Regardless of the negative impacts. That’s what love is. Doing what you have to do. Even if you don’t want to.  

That’s what life is too, choices.  

One of the Chairs begins to laugh loudly at something Tran said, the laugh is fake, but they’re humoring him. They’re really pulling out all the stops. Of all the Chairs in the WHA only nine are missing, so is the president of the WHA. They said if Tran signs, he’ll get to talk with them though.  

Tran is wiser than he looks. The questions he’s gleaned while feigning stupidity are impressive.  

“You really asked them for a Nuclear warhead?” one of the Chairs asks over a chuckle.  

“Yeah,” Tran shrugs, “I basically told them that if someone signed me some, I’d join them, it’s like a trust fall, you know?” 

“Is that the only reason?” they ask.  

“I may or may not have a skill that can one shot a gate if I use it as a power source,” Tran winks, “Allegedly, I may have used it to slay a god.” 

A few of the chairs look at each other before swirling their wine glasses. They’re practically salivating now.  

“I thought you lost the Divine Item that helped you do that?” a woman with a scarlet dress asks, crossing her legs and leaning forward on the table, “Was the report wrong?” A smile wraps her deep red painted lips.  

There’s something strange about the smile, I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before. The rest of her face isn’t one I recognize. She’s attractive, mid thirties maybe, fit. She has strong green eyes and golden blonde hair. She has a tic I notice, she bites the corner of her lip then purses them like she’s trying to break the habit or spread lipstick.  

Tran takes a few moments to respond, “Nah, it was recalibrated and returned.” He picks up a toothpick that’s leftover from his turkey sandwich and puts it in the corner of his mouth. He hoists his legs up and puts his shoes on their special table. One of the chairs is about to say something, but the scarlet dressed woman shoots them a look and lifts a finger off the table.  

“You must be rightfully upset to have them recalibrate it, that’s so rude. I never did find out... maybe you could answer, what kind of item is it exactly?” she asks, twirling her blonde hair on her finger. 

Tran yawns, crossing his arms, “Man, turkey really makes me sleepy, so does boring stuff.”  

She crooks a smile and leans back again, “What did you want to talk about?” 

“I want to know if you’re going to do something about him.” 

She tilts her head, “About who?” 

“You know who.” 

Chairman Olivers shifts in his seat, giving the woman a look. Everyone else introduced themselves, except for her. Who is she?  

“Ah, well, you don’t like to beat around the bush, do you?” she says with an eyebrow raised.  

“I don’t mind a bush.” 

She blinks, taking a moment to collect herself before she gives the business smile, “What is it that you’d like us to do about him?” 

Chairman Olivers stands abruptly, “Do about me? You forget your place!” 

Her eyes turn with all the fury that eyes can hold, but he doesn’t care.  

“I don’t give a fuck who you are,” he growls, “You and Starboy are fucking worthless,” he points at Tran, “And this shit stain is somehow going to be even more worthless, look at him, his fucking feet are on the goddamn table!” 

The woman leans back and crosses her arms. He’s grouping her in with Starman… is she a hero? Why else would he have said it like that? What hero though? Three of the six heroes are women, she’s definitely not Twilight or Calamity, she’s too pale. Vella then, is she Vella? I shouldn’t just assume that’s what he meant, though I am wary of her now, more so than Starman.  

They took our data pads so I can’t even look up a picture of her, but I’m pretty sure it’s her. Which tracks, Olivers seems to have a problem with heroes. Wonder why though.  

“No, this is a fucking farse, when the WHA start bowing to fuckwit heroes, I’ve had enough, I’ll not stand for this anymore.” 

Olivers stands and walks to the large glass doorway, before he leaves, he gives me a look, one that says, it’s not over yet.  

“Good luck, boy,” he seethes.  

After he’s out of earshot, the scarlet dressed woman claps her hands, “Well, that was fun. Where were we?” 

Tran shrugs, “You tell me.” 

She smiles, she’s about to respond, but I think she gets a message from her System interface, her fingers are moving under the table like she’s typing a reply.  

“I think perhaps we should start listing what we can give you that the UWO won’t.” 

“Such as?” Tran asks, sipping from his freshly made pineapple juice. 

She leans back further, “Nukes.” 

He coughs after almost choking on the juice, he clears his throat and says, “Oh, cool, what else?” 

“You also asked for…” she turns to look out the windows, “It wasn’t supposed to rain today, shame, I was going to invite you for drinks on the balcony.” 

Thunder rattles the glass.  

“There’s always next time,” Tran says, standing and stretching.  

“You’re leaving?” she asks.  

“Yeah, I’m tired, we can talk in a few weeks though?” 

“A few weeks?” she blinks, adjusting in her seat.  

“Yeah, I have to weigh my options.” 

“What’s to weigh?” she asks cooly.  

“Well, I need to see how my team feels about it.” 

She looks over at us for the first time since we’ve been here, then looks back at Tran, “Your team will be very well taken care of, I assure you.” 

“Really? That’s weird,” Tran says, stretching to his toes then leaning back with his hands on his hips, “Because one of your aides, Jaime I think was her name, she basically said they’d be sanitation workers. Which isn’t a bad profession, not sure why it has a bad connotation, it’s actually a tough job so fuck her for using it as an insult. I don’t like her.” 

Jaime stands, blinking rapidly. A grin ripples on Clayton’s face.  

“You’re asking that I fire Jamie?” 

“No, I want her to apologize to my bodyguard.” 

“Is that all?” 

“Pretty much.” 

“Okay,” she turns and looks at Jamie, “You heard him.” 

Jamie scrunches her face and turns to Clayton, “I’m sorry.” 

“There,” the scarlet dress says, “Now can we continue?” 

“Clayton,” Tran says, crossing his arms, “Was that enough?” 

“Nah, that didn’t feel like an apology,” Clayton grins.   

“Jamie, apologize like you mean it.” 

Jamie shoots her a look before turning back to Clayton, “I am sorry that your skin is so thin that my jabs have caused you to have an emotional response.” 

“Jamie,” scarlet dress says, holding the end of her name before it ends abruptly.  

“I…” the woman grits her teeth, then bows deeply, “I am sorry for the offense.” 

Clayton smirks, then shrugs, “Didn’t offend me, don’t get your panties in a twist about it.” 

“You fucking…” she whispers.  

“Run along, Jamie,” the scarlet woman says.  

Jamie bows to the woman and then leaves, but not before she gave Clayton intense side eye.  

“That storm is getting rather nasty,” one of the Chairs says.  

“Weatherman never predict anything right,” another chirps.  

“Even with their specialized class it’s still a fifty percent chance they’re right, sometimes I think the System has a sense of humor.” 

“Oh it definitely does, most definitely,” a man with three chins chortles.  

These are the elite of the WHA, so far, I’m unimpressed. Uninspired to choose them over the UWO. They claim to be able to get Tran nukes if he joins. Something that shouldn’t be possible for them. Ever since the last official rebel faction was snuffed out, the UWO assured everyone that they had all the nukes. A double meaning some say. Reassuring people they were safe… so long as they obey.  

A necessary evil though, without unity, Earth will fall to the quota.  

Thunder booms again, the wind is howling, the thick glass vibrates with it. It really is a big storm. A strange feeling washes over the room, like a surge of energy, then suddenly the power turns off, swathing us in the darkness that’s only broken by the lightning outside.  

A pop up appears in my vision… it’s purple. No… no… no… not right now, not fucking right now, you fucking asshole.  

[ Global System Notice: Attention Citizens of Earth ] 

[ Divine Artifact Recalibration… Complete ] 

[ Divine Artifact Return Sequence Initializing… Success ] 

[ Reissuing Divine Artifact to User… Commencing ] 

[ Good Luck ] 

The thunder grows louder as the building rumbles. Everyone looks at Tran, and Tran, looks at me.  

“Fuck…” Clayton says, standing, “Tran, we’re leaving!” 

Barlow moves to block me, eyes wary of everyone else. Tran moves like a cat escaping a dog, dodging three sets of hands that try and grab him.  

“Mythren is such a dick,” Tran says as we pound into the hall.  

The woman is the first to rush after us, she waves the guards off of us.  

“Wait!” she yells frantically.  

In the board room, all the chairs are standing, talking amongst themselves, none of them move yet, but they’re swiping interfaces it looks like, issuing orders.  

“Elevators down,” Clayton says, moving to the stairs, he pulls on the handles, but it doesn’t budge, even for him at level thirty. He slams his shoulder into it, nothing.  

“It’s reinforced tungsten, you’re not getting past it, just relax,” she says, holding her hands up, “We still want to work with you, just be calm and…” 

The glass on the side of the building ruptures and howling wind screams inside, blowing back furniture and staff. Barlow tries to block me from the debris. Light swirls in the sky, a deep purple at the epicenter. Lightning strikes the ground next to me and a small portal appears.  

A slender black ring moves from it toward me until it rests upon my finger. The wind almost immediately stops as it does, leaving the sound of rustling papers falling to the floor. The swirl of purple is no more, and the skies slowly clear.  

Clayton draws his ruby daggers and spins them as suits start moving toward us.  

The woman looks at Tran, then at the ring on my hand, then up at me, her eyes widen for a brief moment as she realizes… I’m the Respec skill holder. I turn and look at the boardroom and with a single glance, i know… all of them know too.