Neo-Kamakura

“Ms. Rainsong, you’re up in five minutes”, the assistant manager said.

“Kay kay”, she responded, waving in acknowledgment without looking at him.

Ok, you can do this. This is your biggest crowd in a while.

Mimi finished applying her cyan lip gloss, taking one last long look at herself in the mirror. Her azure hair was tinged with streaks of pink and teal, which complimented nicely with her blouse.

A little much on the blush, she thought. Oh well.

A black treble clef symbol was tattooed on the right side of her face underneath her right eye, symbolizing her love for music. Performing at Ecreville’s Psyhi Music Festival had always been one of her childhood dreams growing up. This was the largest outdoor festival for musicians in all of the seven districts in the city of Neo-Kamakura. She could remember singing with her friends in school with just her spoon for a microphone, waiting for a chance to be on the same stage as her idols.

Time sure flies, she thought dreamily. Mimi couldn’t help chuckling as she put down her lip gloss and began clipping on the button on her blouse.

Maybe strapless latex and shorts were a bit much. And the leggings do feel a bit tight. Though, I do feel more daring today, I guess. Mimi giggled.

Still, the manager can’t convince me to get rid of these sneakers. Feet should be comfortable, always.

The dressing room was a bit humid, but that was okay. Compared to the hell she went through to before becoming a leading idol of Ecreville, the pressures of performance were a walk in the park.

Smiling to herself one last time, she recited her personal mantra, “Cuter than tomorrow, and wiser than yesterday”. She stood up from her stool and glided daintily towards the exit, face beaming with anticipation.

A loud chant of “Scarlet Wings, Scarlet Wings, Scarlet Wings!” could be heard outside. Crowds yelled obsequiously in synchronized admiration, awaiting her and her bandmates’ arrival on stage. Oh, what a lovely sound.

Crossing the backstage, Mimi stopped just short of the curtains. She passed by two other girls along the way. Cassandra Auburn, a short woman with a golden side-ponytail hanging past her shoulders, who rocked an empire-waist dress lined with ornate black and gold designs, followed Mimi to the curtains. Cassandra peeked her head out, watching the wave of pink, yellow, and purple glow sticks dance in an ethereal blur across the concert grounds. She was shorter than Mimi, and much moodier in her demeanor, although her face never betrayed it.

Slim shades patterned with a faint sequence of scrolling luminescence on the frames covered Cassy’s eyes as she scanned the crowd carefully. Heavy black eyeshadow covered the top of her eyes. Whatever to hide her face better. Cheers erupted when they spotted her, and she jumped, waving stiffly at them. Cassy was conscious about her heterochromia, even though Mimi thought red and purple eyes looked pretty on her.

“No longer than 2 hours. I have to attend a dinner date later.” Cassy said dryly, handing back Mimi her signature guitar. It was shaped like an assault rifle and colored a deep shade of violet. A switch sat at the bottom of the guitar near the whammy bar and glowing red lights hummed around a metallic half-arch jutting out from its side.

Cassy herself strapped on two fingerless gloves embedded with touch-sensitive panels, each of which glowed dimly.

“Based on how your last dinner date went, I look forward to hearing about this one”, Mimi said, grinning. She pulled up purple headphones with two jutting antennae on her head and threw on two glowing cyan bracelets, now loosely hanging from her wrist. The headphones began to radiate red at the edges. In the corner, Mimi could hear someone laughing to herself.

“Yo. You going with Cassy?” Mimi asked. The other girl, sitting in the dark corner, looked up from her phone, eyeing the pair.

“Huh? Oh. Only if the date tries to run”, she mused, with that gruff voice of hers. “I think Cassy’s good on this one.”

Maricole Fairlight had platinum silver hair, shorter on one side than the other. Two studs piercing her top left eyebrow reflected the lights pouring in from the stage outside. She rocked a body suit adorned with holographic decals that glowed a soft neon and wore thigh high boots spray painted with a dark violet color palette. Her jacket hung loosely on her shoulders, made of specular fabric which captured the images of the environment around her, blending into the environment like camouflage. A knife pouch rested at the side of her leg, from which she pulled out two drumsticks of twisted design.

Cassy sighed, remarking, “I wouldn’t have to go out hunting at night if performing was all we needed to pay the bills.”

Mimi replied, “Hey. We’ll get there. The market’s competitive, and despite that, we still somehow managed to book an opening with Psyhi. We’ve crossed the biggest hurdle already. So c’mon girls. Let’s give em a taste of a real show. Isn’t this what we’ve dreamed about since we were children?” A wave of nostalgia crossed, and the other two smiled warmly at that.

Spotlights illuminated the stage, and the rush of energy was almost palpable. The trio waved at the screaming audience. Men at the front held pink glowsticks high in the air in support of Mimi, while most of the females sported purple glowsticks for Maricole. Yellow glowsticks waved farther back, and from what Mimi could see, it was mostly couples who supported Cassy. Odd following, that.

Adrenaline begins rushing through Mimi’s blood, and the sound of cheers blurred into a single resonating wave of emotions, washing over her. She’s finally here. And she’ll settle for nothing less than an unforgettable performance.

“Are you ready, Ecreville!!!!” Mimi screamed, her microphone blaring.

Thunderous applause and cheers burst into the atmosphere and the trio immersed themselves in this moment, ready to make this stage their playground. Even fans and passersby from other districts came by to watch them, and though they may never see these people again, the universal language of music was about to connect them all together for this single night.

Mari pulled up her drumsticks. “One, two, a’ one, two three four!”

The speakers blasted with emotion. Mimi and Cassy led with a call and response. Mimi danced across the strings, switching between pentatonics, discordant riffs, and various chord progressions before Cassy took up the response. A holographic keyboard pulled up in front of her and she began a melodious response, alternating rhythms between double-time and half-time, switching keys, and improvising her introduction, before settling back on the original key. Mari kept the drums going in polyrhythmic splendor, making the necessary adjustments to keep the two lead acts shining. The intro began to slow, the crowd began to chant in time with the beat, and Mimi began to sing the first song:

Synagogue of angels

Lend me your wings

And take me to another place

To make my heart sing.

But every place, and every stage.

Oh, some things never change.

But as long as I can see your face.

I feel like we’ll get through okay.

While the trio ran through their set list, two men waded through the dim alleyways and streets a flew blocks outside the venue. A couple of drones accompanied them, scanning the area around the pair for the presence of people. Streetlamps flickered in and out down the block and a subtle cool breeze rustled leaves scattered on the concrete pavement from nearby foliage. Advertisements of holographic design illuminated the walls and windows of various buildings as the pair passed by, shimmering in a variety of colors.

“You planned this didn’t you? Streets are dead. I hear everybody’s gathered around the large music festival happening at the Psyhi. I don’t remember who the main act was, but word is their lead singer was quite a hot trend recently”, Siegren mused. He was a lean but muscular man of taller than average height. His red hair slicked-back neatly across his head and he wore a casual demeanor on his face. He looked up, watching spotlights of varying colors pierce the sky above, hearing low rumbles sound off in the distance. Two moons shone in the night sky, partially obscured by dust clouds.

“Focus. We’ve got an important shipment to receive today”, the other man responded.

The man next to Siegren had a roughness about him. A cold, calculating look crossed his irises, and any person worth his weight could feel a sense of danger and bloodlust emanating from this man that couldn’t be explained in words. The pair looked similar in features, yet the contrasting atmosphere which surrounded them would make anybody think twice about their relationship. Ying and yang, personified.

“You’re no fun, brother”, Siegren responded.

The Trepidor brothers, Cadmi and Siegren, were scheduled to meet up with a local distributor from one of the Lost Clans who dealt with unique requests no other distributor would take, given the right incentive. This time, the request was to provide Johrei shards taken off of juvenile Enthipids. The distributing merchant thought it was an unusual request even for him, as juveniles have little to no market value. However, the Trepidor brothers’ payment offer was more than enough to assuage his doubts.

A couple crossed the intersection in front of them, holding each other tightly. They eyed each other contentedly, oblivious to the world around them. As Cadmi and Siegren approached, they noticed the brothers. The girl’s eyes glazed over Siegren momentarily before landing on Cadmi. The moment she saw his expression, the woman’s eyes widened.

“C’mon, let’s cross the street here”, she said, attempting to drag her boyfriend’s arm across the empty street.

“What’s going – hey!”, he replied, as he stumbled his way across the road with his girlfriend.

“Ah, young love”, Siegren said, before he was silenced by another sharp glance from his brother. Those eyes told him to stop wasting time.

The brothers approached the building they were looking for. A large warehouse sat at the corner of this quiet street. Alleyways and smaller business shops comprised this section of the district, and each of the shops lined the block around them. Most were purveyors of food and trinkets and were closed for the night. The only sound that could be heard was the fading rumble of bass still shaking the air from the distant performance.

Siegren rapped his brother’s knuckles, “You know how scary your face looks right now right? Doesn’t hurt to tone down your anger a bit, even if you have to pretend.”

Cadmi murmured something inaudibly his brother. Whatever he said, it didn’t sound pleasant. It was like rage had become his default state after what happened in the Fringe.

“Ooh scary”, Siegren responded. The pair had both known each other long enough to understand the other’s feelings. Siegren needn’t say any more. He did worry for his brother though. Both traversed out into the Fringe on separate pilgrimages years back. Although neither shared their experiences with each other, Siegren knew Cadmi probably came face to face with the same entity he saw, a being most would consider a god.

For better or for worse, that pilgrimage changed the courses of their lives forever, and as a result, both came out of that event reborn as Onyx Technicians. Cadmi, however, was never the same since then. His hostility towards the world, the Clan of Tributes, to criminals of the underground. It didn’t fit what Onyx Technicians were supposed to represent.

Was he not offered the same pact as me? Siegren thought, but considered it impertinent to the moment. Whatever happens, he’ll stand by his brother’s side to protect him from all the threats without…and within - just like he always had before.

The pair rounded a corner and into an alleyway, stopping short when they reached the back entrance of the warehouse. As they approached inside, a short balding man, stocky and sporting a worn-down suit, bowed to them across a long warehouse floor, a dozen armed guards at his side. Stacks of metallic crates littered the room, unopened, as ceiling lights meters above the parties flickered and hummed, casting the room in a soft ambient light.

“Ah the infamous Trepidor brothers. Pleasure to make your acquaintance”, he said, voice obsequious, but with a hint of curiosity. “I am the humble merchant, Tor. I’ve heard tell of your recent…accomplishments.” Tor ruffled his mustaches at that last statement. “It must’ve been quite difficult for just the two of you to take down both the Shogun and Daimyo of an elite Division. Why, that hasn’t happened since the war of the Fringe decades ago. I am so curious at how you managed such a feat. I-”

“Spare me your formality, snake”, Cadmi interrupted. “Did you bring the parts?”

Tor eyed them warily, before responding, “Well, yes. Two crates of juvenile hides, just like the doctor ordered.” He opened the crates with a non-verbal command. “It cost us quite a few men trying to infiltrate the nest where these juveniles resided. I hope, for your sake, that you’ve brought the payment.”

Cadmi glared at the merchant for more than a few seconds and walked up to inspect the goods. Thin carapaces stacked in neat rows, each sleek and refined, as most Bastion metal tended to be. Juveniles, unlike their aged counterparts, carried more of a bluish hue along their carapaces than the otherwise blackened exteriors that adult Enthipids carried. He issued a non-verbal command, and Johrei began glistening like scales, running along the face of the carapace. The light refracting along the Johrei shards was lightly saturated with a soft bluish hue as well.

Good. They didn’t separate the Johrei from the Bastion metal, Cadmi thought. Although Bastion metal itself had its uses, what truly made Enthipid carapaces special were the Johrei shards which lined the skin of the creatures. It had an unending number of practical uses, and was a hunter’s greatest commodity, activated with a simple mental command. Although check-ups like these were expected, and no merchant would dare double-cross Division hunters - let alone the Shogun and Daimyo of one - Cadmi didn’t trust Tor at all. Something about the way he carried himself, and the way his words always underpinned a sense of false platitudes and veiled threats, pricked at Cadmi’s skin.

After a few more rounds of inspections over the other pieces, Cadmi turned to his brother and nodded. Siegren produced a chip from his coat pocket. Lines ran across the chips in a multitude of stringed patterns. He tossed the chip towards Tor, who caught it in his palm. Tor issued a non-verbal command into it, and the number 10 [6].00 hovered above the clip in a rotating transparent image of holographic design.

“Ten million Mon. It’s all there”, Siegren reminded. “Now we’ll just take this and be on our way”, he said, reaching for the boxes.

“Well, yes”, Tor replied, he said, as he slammed the lid tightly. “This is indeed the money. However, there is a problem, you see - a reason why our humble group afforded to lose more than our fair share of men out in the Fringe for your meager, trivial request.”

He motioned his men behind him. Two began pulling the crates back, while the remaining ten stepped closer to the brothers, hands poised over their weapons.

“The voices speak you see. And rumor tells me that a rat has recently crawled out of the woodworks. A rat who, with his recent actions, has painted a bounty on his back far greater than any man or hunter could hope to assess. And a rat who, from what I’ve heard down the pipeline, shouldn’t even be alive today.” Tor assessed Cadmi as his men pulled out maces, axes, knives, and other Johrei weaponry of varying designs. His eyes swiveled to Siergren, grinning, as if to say there were two rats now.

Cadmi and Siegren continued to watch carefully, their drones picking up more and more of the enemies’ numbers popping up.

Cadmi’s eyes widened for only a moment, before sharpening into daggers. Tor wasn’t saying what he thought he was saying, was he? He issued a non-verbal command into his left wrist, hidden under his shirtsleeve. A small hum began to buzz on his arm.

“How much were you told, Tor?” Cadmi demanded.

“You give me too much credit,” Tor chucked. “I know only that someone higher-up on the food chain is very invested in the two of you”, he said. “And I’m here to see that my patron is satisfied. We wouldn’t want their money to go to waste after all.”

“Enough of this”, Cadmi said, and before Siegren could stop him, all hell broke loose.