The two of them stood staring one another down in the middle of the main room for an uncomfortably long time. It was so silent Cassian could hear the anger in her father’s breaths. He'd clearly been waiting the entire evening for her return, he wasn't usually up this late.
Darius was a tall and narrow yet broad-shouldered man in his early sixties, his already grey hair had a wiry, untamable texture, so he often kept it tied in a plait which trailed down to his shoulder blades.
Over his right eye was a holographic optical lens which glowed purple and connected to a cartilage cuff curled over the top of his right ear. This was the device that had his daughter on speed dial, allowing him to keep tabs on her anytime he wished.
Cassian was all too aware of this: it had changed the way she lived entirely.
"Shall we run through this week's numbers whilst we're here?" Darius began to walk towards the long glass table in the centre of the room.
"It's pretty late, Dad," Cassian replied, keen to make this altercation quick.
"Don't be daft, you had a coffee at ten, you'll be awake all night," he spat, an indication that he'd been watching her every move for most of the evening.
He sat at one end of the table and gestured for her to mirror him. As she headed that way she routinely stopped by the liquor stand to grab the drink he'd inevitably ask her for. It stood pride of place amidst the other beverages, a bottle of thick black liquid which almost seemed to squirm inside the glass.
It was known as Regime's Will.
Grabbing a pair of wine glasses, the black sludge and a bottle of regular wine for herself, she brought them over to her father and set it on the table before him, "Don't go too mad."
"None for yourself?" He asked, knowingly eyeing up the bottle of wine she had in her hand. Cassian scowled at him.
"Fuck no," she sat herself down and retrieved her pocket watch, “You have your weird vice, lemme have my own.”
She opened up the watch and slid it across the table. As it stopped, an amber hologram shot out of it, projecting footage from her point of view throughout the day. Footage recorded through her eye.
Darius watched the collage of footage back as he poured himself a glass of Regime's Will and took a sip. Black tendrils crawled up his neck as he swallowed, as they did every time.
"Today was a shambles, Cassian."
"Talk about it," she rolled her eyes, pouring herself a glass of wine; likely the first of many.
"Yes, please do," Darius replied, eyeing her sternly, "How on Etrah did you manage to take such a beating against those bloody things?"
"Well clearly you've made them stronger. They've been pulling tricks none of us have ever seen before. Caught me off-guard," she responded pointedly, taking a large sip.
"Have you considered, perhaps, that I’ve made the Purples stronger in order to cover our backs when you mess up?” He locked his hands together and eyed her with disappointment, "This matter is only worsened by the fact you paled in comparison to Ali's new friends today. It's embarrassing, frankly."
Cassian tipped her head, and said nothing. She wasn’t about to stoop to the level of apologising for getting her ass kicked.
"He clearly has some sort of trick up his sleeve, uniting people with such refined combat skills," Darius took another sip of the Will and sighed, "Keep an eye on them all."
"I will," Cassian nodded. She slowly looked back up and watched as he necked the remains of the Regime’s Will hungrily. She still had no idea what it did, but she did know it turned her father into someone she didn't recognise, and that was enough to tell her she had no interest in drinking it herself. She took another gulp of wine and topped her glass back up.
"Guess I'll run the numbers," she sighed, bringing up a series of statistics on the holographic interface. It displayed two sets of numbers for each day of the week: a total for the number of Shadowers left in the Shadow District, as well as a total she was fabricating to prevent panic or urgency, "No progress today, didn't have time."
"Why ever not?" Darius' brow wrinkled.
"Zhu gave me a gazillion jobs to do!" She said, exhausted, "Then Ali sprung that 'favour' on me to help get his friends into the district safely. You know how that went-"
"Need I remind you," Darius began, cutting over her, "That you're not in the Shadow District to do Zhu's jobs. You're there to get rid of them all. To serve the Doloriak."
There it was. The very corporation she’d learned to both love and resent: The Doloriak.
They operated under the secretive veil of wealth, of untouchability. Influencing everything their cohorts owned, there was no room in the city of Novus for anything other. Every TV, radio and internet channel, every publication, every bank, fast food joint, school or office was somehow puppeteered with dexterous Doloriak hands. They were the CEOs, influencers, conglomerates and visionaries. They were the rich, and thus, the successful. They were the government.
Novus was Doloriak through-and-through, the people just didn’t know that yet.
Within the regime’s glittering pond the McConnells were two of the biggest fish, devoting their lives to the Doloriak’s flourishing ecosystem in return for some of the finest rewards one could aspire to.
Whilst her father achieved his membership by simply being one of Novus’ finest inventors, donating the use of the Xytonetwork to the regime’s cause, Cassian’s life had been more of an investment.
A member at just ten years of age, the regime was responsible for everything, from her degree in economics and entrepreneurship to her extensive combat training. They even granted her father the money he needed to perfect her state-of-the-art prosthetic arm and accompanying custom-Xytosystem.
The regime’s cash flow kept her pockets comfortably lined and their goals kept her life remarkably interesting—she was a successful, multi-talented millionaire at the age of twenty-five, there wasn’t much more a girl of her age could ask for…
Except, perhaps, a little more affection from the only remaining family member she had…
But that was too much to ask for these days, ever since he’d started drinking the Regime’s Will, so she’d given up on hoping for that.
Cassian sunk back in her chair, considering once again what was really being demanded of her. It was the bare minimum to complete her task successfully: to sabotage and destroy the Shadow District so the Doloriak could push forward without friction. That was her Doloriak title at present: The Saboteur.
She supposed she hadn’t fallen too far offtrack. Today really had been her only dud day in at least a few weeks. Her father always had a tendency to blow her errors out of proportion, but she knew how to get matters back on-track.
After all, she still had some good news left to report.
"Consider this for a sec, pops,” She kicked her feet up onto the table, “Being a saboteur ain’t the same as being an anarchist, or an exhibitionist. Doing nothing in a place like the Shadow District will have eyes on you in no-time. No room for a slacker in your midst when you’re only a hundred-or-so men strong.”
Darius nodded to himself and ran his finger around the rim of his glass as she spoke, “So you’re telling me you circumvent suspicion by actually working?”
“Well I am gettin’ paid, aren’t I?” She shrugged, “Thing is, when you’re in such a stellar position you can do the work…” she put her feet down and leaned into the table, eyes wild with pride, “but you don’t have to do it well.”
Darius grinned back, “Ah… hence the false statistics, presumably intentional accidents and… well…” He fast-forwarded to the moment Cassian was attacked on the staircase, “Didn’t you hack off that door lock the other week?”
“I did, along with a handful of others,” Cassian sighed as she watched herself fall down the stairs again, she raised a finger to her face and traced the barely-there bump on her temple, “Didn’t expect it to bite me in the arse that much though.”
“As is the life of a saboteur,” Darius shrugged, “I suppose putting yourself in harm’s way only makes for an even more convincing act.”
“Speakin’ of convincing,” she smirked, procuring a bank card from her pocket, now was the perfect time to sprinkle in some added positivity, “been making some budget cuts. Had a chat with Zhu about the finances.” She waved the black Dolori Banking bank card, “Thank the gods for our pals in the finance sector, eh? Finally managed to shift the District’s entire money pot over to Dolori.” Her excitement was getting the better of her, she leaned in further, both elbows on the table eagerly, “You know what that means, Pops?”
“You’re the one with the finance degree,” Darius seemed impressed.
“No suspicious activity alerts,” she tossed the card at him to inspect, “We’re free to embezzle as much as we want.”
He turned the shiny new bank card in his hands, eyes glimmering with fascination, “Glorious.”
“So… I ain’t done that bad, have I?” She raised her wine glass for a toast, expecting him to do the same. But he didn’t.
Instead his facial expression soured. He put down the bank card, sliding it back across the table. Knowing this would inevitably become another criticism, Cassian took several more generous sips of wine.
“I must say that letting your knowledge of the Xytonetwork slip to Ali of all people is borderline unforgivable,” Darius stood up from his chair, grabbing his glass and topping it up with Regime’s Will, “You know how intelligent that boy is.”
“I mean, it’s just a word,” Cassian rolled her eyes, sipping more wine.
Darius was approaching her slowly, “But you didn’t leave it at just a word.” He turned back to the hologram and moved the footage forwards to her blunder in the infirmary. The two of them watched it play out.
Cassian had to admit it was daft, seriously daft. Why couldn’t she have said something else? Ectoplasm, microcosm, ecosystem, anything would’ve worked in its place! She was well-known for speaking in gobbledygook at the best of times; she could’ve just blamed it on her bumped head.
After what felt like an eternity of regret, Darius turned back to his daughter, by which point he’d nearly consumed the entire second glass of sludge, “You explained the entire bloody concept to him!”
“You’re giving him too much credit, he won’t even know where to start with what I told them,” Cassian waved her hand dismissively, unsure of how much she even believed herself, “You’re being paranoid.”
“For someone of his immense expertise so much as a wink could solve a crisis! You should not under any circumstances underestimate him!” Darius exclaimed, closing the space between them antagonistically. He leaned down towards her, his pale blue eyes piercing into hers, “Not to mention, I think he’s been making you soft, Cassian.”
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