Cerberus sat in the white leather chair from before, equipment with his massive heavy armor. The chair very clearly didn't like it.

  He wore all except his helmet, which he held under his arm.

  The visor was hooked up, the power systems were running, and it was ready for war; fully repaired from Mourner’s folly.

  Septimus stood in the corner in total observation, still as a statue and as quiet as silence itself. Kaitlyn was nowhere to be seen.

  Proteus sat at his desk on the phone.

  “SERaMACs?” He asked. Cerberus tunes his ears to eavesdrop, but is unsuccessful.

  The Neosun finally falls to the other end of the sky as Proteus talks.

  “Yes, Jimmy, for the last time it is me. Yes, I am calling you directly. No, this is not a staff member representing.”

  Cerberus looks at Septimus as Proteus continues.

  He is unsure where she looks.

  “Look, you should know this Jimmy! Had— had he not told you?”

  Cerberus looks back at Proteus who stands from his desk.

  “You were there? You accompanied him? Oh, in the vehicle but not at the sight. Right.”

  Proteus looks back at Cerberus as a voice comes through the digiphone. Totally unintelligible to him, though he tries to fill the gap as Proteus answers.

  “No, we cannot track you, SERaMACs has experienced anomalous malfunctions… Of course I can't tell you! You're far too low on the ladder to know!”

  Cerberus feels his patience slowly picked at, though his training has reinforced it to sustain waiting around.

  Proteus talks to the phone again, looking to end the conversation.

  “I don't care if you saw a bot shoot someone. You are not in a position to know. Look… look… just— just shut that fuck up. I will call you again when we can track you. After that, you will send us your location, alright?”

  Proteus moves the phone from his ears to in front of his face.

  “Okay. Goodbye.” He says, flipping the digiphone shit and shoving it in his pocket.

  Cerberus rises and Septimus folds her arms.

  “I am rather unimpressed Proteus, I must admit.” He tells him.

  Proteus reached to put on his hat, only to find that it was missing. That's right, it was stolen. How odd he'd forget that. “It's not my best work but it will have to do. You had given me short notice.”

  “You mentioned this at the board meeting.” Cerberus firmly assures him. Proteus takes a while to answer, though he does.

  “Ahh! You are right. I had assumed there would be different timing. It matters not, once he can broadcast his location, I will relay it to you both.”

  “Why can he not just tell us where he is?” Cerberus asked.

  Proteus replies swiftly. “He has. He told me he was in Kansas. I do not believe him.”

  Cerberus and Septimus both nod their head and move to the exit. Cerberus opens the door for Septimus to go first.

  “What a gentleman.” Proteus comments just before Cerberus closes the door.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  “You'd be surprised, Proteus.” Cerberus tells him as he leaves.

  He turns around to see Septimus waiting for him, looking up into his face. He begins making his move to the garage below. He does not care for the investment-firm-esque office spaces of these levels.

  Septimus follows short behind, hear Cerberus mumble to himself.

  “Mmm... fucking SERaMACs. Should've known Halcyon’s efforts would lead to failure.”

  It is a long, winding descent to the bottom floor. Cerberus refuses to use elevators if he can avoid it, and so Septimus is cursed to follow him down hundreds of flights of stairs.

  Each dozen levels of the Ivory Tower feels like its own biome. One minute, the decor is corporate and synthetic. Next minute, it appears as if it is the most lavish hotel in existence. Yet by the next dozen floors, it feels more like a warehouse than a place of luxury.

  It is a result of the many leases purchased for certain floors of the building. Leases that are, of course, only given to individuals or companies under the thumb of the Trust's control.

  Ouroboros, Cerberus reflects. No wonder her name is Basilisk.

  Once more on the ground floor, once more does the patter of earthly rainfall pierce into their pair’s ears. Cerberus leads the way into the marble-coated grand garage. He feels that it is time to use the bigger menaces, but unfortunately for him, Septimus makes his mind up for him. She takes the lead, pointing to the station-wagon of his last mission.

  “No. I used that last time.”

  Septimus continues to look at him and point at the vehicle.

  “You drive?” He asks her. She nods to reply. She opens the rear hatch for him, allowing him to get in, freezing himself like a statue. She closes the door, moving back around to the front seat and starting the engine. After a moment of adjusting the seating to accommodate her short height, the massive exit opens into the rain. And they start moving.

  Cerberus does not question the plan, simply accepting that he is being taken by Septimus somewhere. She has the kindness to humor him, and he shall humor her, he thinks.

  His conical implant rings about half an hour into a trip. With his body stiff, unmoving and shut down, he receives a message from Proteus.

  “To Septimus and Cerberus, our informant has agreed to meet with you in person. The location will be the abandoned correctional facility leading out of North Platte City. It is near Interstate 80 in the direction of Denver.”

  “Did you get that Septimus?” He activates his eyes for a moment to look in the rear view mirror. He sees Septimus nod as her reply. He shuts his eyes back down and puts himself to sleep, telling her.

  “Wake me… when you need me.”

  Time is a suggestion in stasis. Or at least… it was supposed to be. It usually feels like blinking. Closing your eyes, then opening them, only to see that time has passed. But not this time. The world remained black for a second. Then two seconds. Cerberus realizes he is still conscious, and yet, everything is black. He moves his eyes, seeing his body is still with him.

  In fact, he can move his arms, fingers and joints. And yet it is all still black. The most faint of buzzing can be heard in the background. He feels it's behind him, yet when he goes to check, it moves away. It is like.. nature. Like the ambiance he listens to while he meditates. He car almost hear those birds chirp.

  He swears he can hear them all around him, and yet… He does not know what they look like. And so, he cannot see them, no matter how hard he tries. He realizes he is standing. And so, he takes a walk. His footsteps are mute. The ground feels like nothing. He touches it with his iron fist, only to feel more of the same.

  Would he even be able to recognize what a bird looks like if he saw one?

  Surely it would sing to him first?

  “What is this?” He asks. His voice falls silent, without any reverb.

  He hears something open, and it sounds like it came from below him. He looks down, still nothing. Though a growing ambiance produces noise. Still from below him, yet nothing is to be seen.

  And as he takes a blink… he wakes again, this time with the trunk hatch open and the rain pouring in.

  Thunder erupts in the skies as the Neosun has begun to lower in the sky for the first time.

  His body activated soon after, unstuffing himself from the back of the vehicle. There is a downpour, yet the wind is almost silent. To his left, not far from them is the outline of a factory. It is gray. Old. Yet still quite in tact.

  It was bathed in a new light, though dimmer than he had seen before. The rain was far worse at the moment; it seems the Neosun cannot blare infinitely upon the soils.

  He looks down to his right to see Septimus looking up at him, the bright hot neon beacons of the North Platte Metro sirening in the far distance and into the clouds. The Ivory Tower, a kilometers tall monument, still visible through the murky weather.

  “What is it?” He asked. She does the gesture of picking up a telephone. Cerberus complies, sending a message to Proteus through his conical implant.

  “Cerberus to Proteus. We have arrived at the facility. We have arrived smoothly. Notify the informant.”