Maccus was never one for conversation, so he didn’t mind the fact that Go-iig didn’t talk much. What he did mind was that the mi-go had ignored him almost entirely.

Once they had decided on their plan of attack, they had a few hours to kill, so Maccus proposed that they play a game of cards. Go-iig responded by simply not responding at all.

Disappointed, Maccus began playing solitaire. As he shuffled and arranged circular cards on the floor around him, he often found himself glancing over at Go-iig, who stood completely motionless in the shadows, the lights in its head pointing in seemingly random directions. Maccus knew that mi-go did not have eyes to see in the same way as other races - rather, the stalks on their head simply sensed everything around them - but he still felt that Go-iig was watching, judging him. It unnerved him slightly.

Eventually, Maccus packed his cards away, and pulled out his glass bauble. He held it up to his heart, and tilted his head down as he silently prayed to the Mist.

He was caught by surprise when Go-iig suddenly buzzed, “Your eyes are closed.”

Maccus looked up at the mi-go. It hadn’t moved a muscle.

“I was praying,” he said simply.

“You should not praying. You is not using all senses.”

“We still have half an hour before we expect the terrorists to show up.”

“There can be ambush. They can be early.”

“If they are, I’ll hear them coming.”

Go-iig’s head shook, emitting a loud buzz, then it argued, “Star-spawn senses unreliable. You should use all senses when you can.”

Maccus couldn’t help but glare at the mi-go. “You didn’t have any problem with me playing cards.”

“Your eyes still open. Could have spotted activists around corner. Let slide.” 

This is frustrating and pointless, he thought as he pocketed his bauble. I do not need to deal with this. He spread his wings. 

“I’m going to see if I can spot the activists from a roof outside,” he said. “I will contact you if I do.”

Go-iig did not even flinch as Maccus leapt into the air, and immediately soared through the halls.

Maccus completed his prayer in isolation, under the light of two of the quintuplet moons. He then began observing the surrounding buildings and streets.

He loved the older buildings in the city - each of them were uniquely shaped, fanciful spires protruding from or poking through gigantic stone spheres. Every single tower was a work of art. But when Maccus turned twelve, the Star Harvest company building appeared. Since then, all the new buildings were identical concrete blocks.

The Star Harvest company building was a giant, pristine white plastic “L” block that towered over the rest of the city, with an inward curve that denoted the building’s front. This L-shaped building was the tallest in the city. The company logo, a simple black four-pointed star with a depiction of a farmer carrying a rake, was boldly painted onto every side of the tower.

Maccus had considered flying up to the roof of the tower, but it was far too high - he wouldn’t be able to distinguish between terrorist and passerby from that far up. So he leapt between neighboring buildings, scanning the streets below and the skies above.

It was right when dawn broke that he heard wings flapping from beneath him. He looked down, and saw a trio of star-spawn flying just above the ground. 

“Keep quiet!” he overheard one of them say. “We can’t let anyone spot us until the protest starts!”

“You know, if you had spent more time figuring out that invisibility spell, and less time choosing dresses, we probably wouldn’t have this problem!”

“Just shut up, okay!?”

Protest? This might be worth looking into.

Maccus silently muttered unpronounceable words under his breath, and he turned invisible. He leapt from the roof, spread his wings, and soared down to the street below, carefully following behind the trio.

When they merged into a mob at the foot of the Star Harvest building, Maccus soared upward, and clasped onto a convenient ledge. From there, he surveyed the mob.

There were star-spawn of all colours and varieties. Some of the winged ones were flapping in place above the crowd, but most of them were standing on the ground with their wingless brethren, holding up signs that said messages such as “WHERE’S OUR HARVEST?”, “NO SHAME, NO HONOUR,” and “GIVE BACK WHAT YOU’VE STOLEN!”

Maccus watched the mob as they rallied. These were indeed protesters - a type of activist, but far from the terrorists that Drekkh had described.

He waved his claws, placing a digit up to his ear, and broadcasted his thoughts to Go-iig. Telepathy was not an easy trick, but after a few years in this line of work, you pick it up.

There’s a mob of protestors out here. They’re not doing anything too drastic. I think this is meant to be a distraction from the the terrorists, assuming that they’re related.

No response. Somehow, he was not surprised.

He tried Drekkh.

There’s a mob of protesters out here--

He got a response immediately.

Where?

Out the front entrance.

Kill them.

I’m sorry?

Maccus nearly said those words out loud.

Did I not make my intent clear enough?

They’re not armed. If there are activists breaking in, then these must be-

I ordered you to kill them. I’ll settle with just their leader, provided that you make sure they never come back.

Maccus ceased communications, but not before Drekkh’s voice rang in his head one more time.

Remember, no hesitation.

An uneasy feeling formed in Maccus’s stomach. Something was wrong about this job. He ignored the feeling, and continued scanning the crowd, until he singled out the leader.

She was a hot-pink-skinned star-spawn woman, her hair-tendrils twisted upward into a swirl, like a tornado on her head. She hovered with her talons barely above the heads of the mob, her tiny wings rapidly flapping to keep her airborne. In one hand, she thrust up a sign depicting the Star Harvest logo with a red X painted over it. In the other, she held a megaphone up in front of her beard, while shouting a chant into it. She looked familiar, but Maccus couldn’t place his claw on it.

“Stop the harvest! Stop the harvest! Stop the harvest!”

The crowd repeated the chant as she said it.

Maccus drew his gun, aiming at the pink leader. He was still invisible. He could discreetly fire a bullet of hard light, which would burn a hole in her head, and the remaining protesters would quickly scatter.

The woman continued speaking, and the crowd listened intently, “Star Harvest is stripping entire worlds barren, and does little to compensate for it!” 

Maccus felt the trigger with his finger.

“People are losing their homes, while company executives sit in their ivory towers and count the stacks of Gold they earned from selling unfairly acquired land and resources!”

Slowly, he pulled the trigger.

“We will not stand for it! Star Harvest’s business practices spit in the face of not just the common mortal, but the Mist themselves!”

At the last possible microsecond, Maccus nudged his aim slightly to the left.

PEW!

The megaphone in the protest leader’s hands burst into pieces as the bullet crashed through it, and burned a scorch mark in the sidewalk.

The crowd went silent.

Maccus let go of the ledge, and let himself fall toward the street. His invisibility wore off. He spread his wings, and swooped through the crowd, straight up to the protest leader, grabbing her by the collar of her ragged white dress.

The crowd stepped back in fear at the sight of Maccus, but they didn’t run.

The leader struggled in his grip, but stopped when she saw his face.

“Maccus?”

It was then that he recognized her - she was Giyxa, one of his mother’s friends. He had known her since he was an infant.

This job is starting to get too close to my personal life, he thought as he descended to the ground and released her.

Giyxa fell to her knees, dropped her sign, and then looked up at Maccus. “What are you doing?” she asked. “Does your mother know you’re here?”

Maccus drew his gun, pointing at the spot right between Giyxa’s yellow eyes. “Where are the terrorists?”

“Terrorists?”

“The intruders. The people that are breaking into the company and stealing files. You arranged this protest to distract us from them.”

“What intruders? Maccus, what are you talking about?”

Maccus and Giyxa locked eyes, and in that instant, Maccus realized exactly what he was being paid to do.

There were no intruders, no security breaches, no files being stolen. These were simply pests, like a bug on a perfectly tailored suit.

And Maccus was hired as pest control.

He lowered his gun, and spoke up so that the entire crowd could hear him, “You need to leave. Now, before--”

CRASH!

BANG-BANG-BANG! BANG-BANG-BANG!

The crowd screamed as eight people fell dead from Go-iig’s assault, white, black, and grey blood leaking from their bodies in thick, billowing clouds.

Maccus instinctively crouched down and spread his wing over Giyxa in a futile attempt to protect her. “Go! Now!” he barked.

Giyxa nodded, and ran, flapping her wings until she was able to take flight. 

Maccus stood up, and turned to face the mi-go that was leaping around the street from one pair of protesters to another, ruthlessly slaughtering them with a massive sword as they desperately tried to flee.

“Go-iig! Stop it!” Maccus commanded as he pointed his gun at it. “These people are innocent!”

The stalks on Go-iig’s head swayed in Maccus’s direction as it grabbed a protester’s neck with the tendrils in its right claw. “These people are threat to company,” it buzzed.

“They’re unarmed! Most of them can barely use magic to fight! They’re just protesters!”

“They hurt company reputation. Protest negatively affect sales.”

“Have you no morals, you walking mushroom!? Is it really worth taking the lives of innocents in the name of a sketchy company that’s only interested in profit!?”

Go-iig froze for a moment, as if it was pondering something. Then, it sheathed its sword, the lights in its head intensified and focused on Maccus. “No hesitation,” it ominously buzzed, eerily imitating Drekkh’s voice.

Before Maccus had another chance to think, Go-iig pulled out one of the many guns it was carrying, and shot him. The bullet nestled itself into Maccus’s shoulder, knocking him back. He groaned in pain as he quickly tried to stand up. 

The last thing Maccus remembered was Go-iig swinging its claw like a club to bash him in the head.