"Vice may triumph for a time, crime may flaunt its victories in the face of honest toilers, but in the end the law will follow the wrong-doer to a bitter fate, and dishonor and punishment will be the portion of those who sin."

  Interlude 2. Part one out of two.

  Agent Peter Park. Holmes Detective Agency.

  March 18th. 1846.

  "Ain't you a bit young for an agent?" The prisoner in front of me asked with a grin. If you could call it a grin considering he only had his two front teeth.

  "I'm twenty-seven Rowley. Not exactly a kid." I responded and dug my spoon into my bag of beans before I jolted up as Rowley stuck his hand out.

  "I'm hungry!" He exclaimed.

  "My job isn't to feed you." I took a slow bite and made sure each chew echoed in the jail.

  Rowley's eyes narrowed and spat on the floor. "My gang gonna bust me jus you wait."

  "Your gang left you for dead you sick fuck." I responded.

  "Don't ya got a wife to attend to? Something better than be here talking to yours truly?" He chuckled out before sitting down tapping the bars.

  "You wanna introduce me to a woman who's willing to marry an agent? I'm either a hero or a damn murderer." I threw the can into a bucket and crossed my legs as I looked up at the ceiling.

  "So which are ya?"

  "Both."

  The hall door slammed open as Detective Matthew stepped in a smoking a cigar his boots echoing in the dirty jail.

  "Hoohoo! Look at who's here, Mr. Matthew's.. bitter old fuck. What's the news eh? Hand it to me raw I can take it!" Rowley then jumped up poking his face through the steel bars.

  "Fucking shit rat, you're being hanged." Detective Matthew said and chuckled as he pulled on his bowler hat and leaned on the wall next to me.

  "Ah don't be so mean to me Detective," Rowley said in a mocking tone before running a hand through his beard.

  "Sure I robbed a few homes killed a few but cmon Detective I was hungry."

  "Hungry? Hunting never crossed your mind?" The Detective responded.

  "You want me to hunt in despair season? That's a death sentence."

  "Yeah yeah, whatever that's beside the point. Park! You heard of the inhumans?" Detective Matthew asked.

  "INHUMANS!?!" Rowley exclaimed before Matthew kicked his cell.

  "I've heard," I answered.

  "Pickkets Mining town under attack. Buffalo skull mercenaries are supposed to be handling that but they sent a cry for help." Matthew informed while Rowley watched his eyes wide in awe.

  "Isn't it the army's job to handle that?" I asked.

  "Regulars are just getting down from marqu and local regiments are having logistical issues. We're the only ones who can actually go. It's already decided I just want to know if you'd rather sit here watching this man lose his mind or kill some savages." Detective Matthew said.

  I stayed silent staring at the floor. During my time in service, I never actually saw combat. The thought of battle sent a chill up my spine.

  But I hardened like the agent I'm meant to be.

  "Anything to stop seeing this bastard." I stood up and stretched, then grabbed my shotgun and slung it around my neck.

  "Hey! Hey! If I'm gonna die, let me at least die useful, huh? Cmonnnn! Don't trust me? Just give me a damn Broom and let those fuckers kill me I'm supposed to be executed anyway!" Rowley rambled as he tugged on the bars. To my surprise, Matthew opened the door and handed him a broomstick.

  "Plan to die sweeping Rowley?" Matthew chuckled.

  "Motherfuckers." Rowley growled as he followed.

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  Leaving the jail we hopped onto the grand mechanical beast, inside men were cleaning their revolvers and shotguns only a handful had actual rifles.

  Shotguns varied. Some were muzzle-loaders. Others were single-barreled. I was lucky enough to get a double-barreled hinge breaking one.

  Across from me sat Hassen a Korumo refugee. Atleast he was initially. Hassen was a auxillary fighter for the maurians but after the 1840 rebellion, he was forced to flee. Landing here he joined the Maxwell gang before they were eventually destroyed by the Xaran cartel. And now he's here.

  Hassen shot Rowley a look of disdain before he began to clean his musket. An older model still using flintlock and smoothbore mechanics but swore it fired like any rifle. The musket itself was adorned in various traditional engravings and attachments.

  Rowley slid down the wall broomstick in hand, eyes bitter.

  "I could do better with a gu-"

  "No." I swiftly interrupted him. More and more men climbed onto the train before the doors slid closed a small gap left for breathing.

  “I do not agree with this plan," Hassan muttered his eyes locked onto his musket as he began to load a new round.

  "It's what we're supposed to do," Matthew responded.

  Click.

  Click.

  Click.

  The soft sound was what echoed throughout the train accompanied by small chatter. Everyone was loading a new round into their weapons. We weren't scared per se. We were far from those young regulars.

  "I fear my fate if I am to be captured Peter." Hassan looked up at me his dark eyes darted around frantically Before he clutched his musket finally calming down.

  "Why is that?" I asked.

  "The inhumans. They are Monarchys yes?" He asked.

  "I assume so."

  "They will treat me like the Maurians did!" He spat on the floor cursing their names in his language before shaking his head.

  "Fucking ideology war huh? How long has it been going now?" Rowley asked as he kicked his feet up on a barrel and began to chew on some wood chips.

  "Who knows. Some say it started in the six years war..others say it started when Virgo declared independence..some say it started when the First Republic was made. I say it started when Kalmar and Kairia liberated slaves from Mauria. 1722 was it?" I looked over at Matthew who nodded his head and said.

  "Royals..always damn royals. Who enslaves another human huh? Just because of his skin color? Social status? Hell were all human if anything we should be enslaving the Inhumans."

  Hassan shook his head and almost dropped his rifle as a large bump kicked us up.

  "Agent Peter," Rowley called out.

  "It's Park to you."

  "Same shit. Say, your accent is different. Reckon you aren't from around here. People from the state of Xara only speak two ways. Like ethnic Xarans or like me." Rowley grinned and sat up rubbing his chin.

  "I'm from the state of Navara," I responded.

  "Knew it!"

  A silence came as the sound of gunfire and yelling got closer. A warhorn. A scream. A shot. It got closer and closer and in the silence of the train cart, only the rattle of the rails and the cocking of rifle hammers were heard.

  The train came to a screeching halt its horn blaring. The cart doors slammed open we jumped out looking around the town, our eyes landed on a hill atop which inhuman archers had already won the hill and began a unrelenting volley against the mercenaries.

  "FLANK EM! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!" I watched as Don Mounts himself ordered us and began to rush the elven position.

  We separated and moved individually through houses and streets running from cover to cover until we reached the inhuman flank.

  It was too late when they noticed us.

  Shotgun and revolver rounds blasted through the wind the inhumans began to falter and fall back. I raised my shotgun taking aim on a archer. He was running with another archer who seemed to be a female. The first shot ripped his leg clean off the second turned his chest blood red he collapsed on the floor while the other archer desperately attempted to pull him away.

  From the corner of my eye, I saw Rowley with a captured sword and shield in his hands charging toward the retreating elves, he swung widely managing to would a inhuman with an axe before being struck down by an arrow.

  The mercenaries and mining guard began their charge up the hill but most of the inhumans had already retreated. Gone without much of a fight. Then emerging from a home I saw an old figure whom I assumed to be an officer.

  "Hassan! On me!" I yelled out and dashed toward the old inhumans my hands fumbling with my shotgun as I loaded in new shells, Hassan making pace behind me.

  I tackled the old man into the house but behind him was his personal guard. I scrambled for my shotgun and fired blindly, the pellets wounding everyone inside. Hassan behind me swiftly shot one and bayoneted the other wounded.

  As he lifted his bayonet to the old inhuman I raised my hand.

  "Wait!" I exclaimed and took out a pair of handcuffs. I restrained the old inhuman forcing him to his feet. As we stepped outside the battle was already won. The inhuman army was in rout.

  "And what will you do with him?" Hassan said and nudged the old inhuman.

  "Who knows?" I responded and dragged it to Don. He carefully looked at the elder before ordering us to load him onto the train which we swiftly did.

  Returning to the battlefield, Rowley was already done. Matthew stood over his corpse.

  "Well..fucker got what he wanted. Death in war." Matthew then lit his cigar and turned to meet the mercenaries. Most had grey shirts their uniform I assume. alongside mismatched weapons and equipment.

  "You lost the hill to inhumans?" He asked.

  "It's! It's not as easy as it looks!" A mercenary said with offense.

  "Seemed easy." Matthew chuckled and looked back at the last shadows of the fleeing inhumans.

  Then we heard rustling and yelling. I spun around raising my shotgun where I saw a group of inhumans carrying sacks attempting to flee. They were too far to do damage but I shot, the pallets somehow landing on one that tumbled to the floor.

  Matthew raised his revolver holding his breath as he lined up his revolver. As the inhuman attempted to stand a bullet entered his skull before he even knew what happened.

  "Didn't think I would hit that one," I muttered and watched Hassan nod in respect before he took aim and missed at the shadows of the fleeing inhumans.

  "Jobs done. We're leaving. Some will stay the rest are coming back." Matthew ordered and walked back to the train.

  I took one last look at the town. Still relatively intact except for a few damaged houses. For the first time in a long time, I actually believed I was on the right side of this battle.

  I turned around and followed behind. I watched some men take positions preparing for a long day of guarding a railroad. Luckily. That wasn't me.

  Inside the traincar, I listened to the older Detectives talk. Four casualties, including the prisoner. To make it look good on paper, Rowley's name would simply be erased. Three casualties.

  The trainride felt almost exactly the same as when we came here yet oddly quiet without Rowley. I won't deny I felt a slight guilt for him. Slightly.

  At the jail, we dragged the inhuman out of the train and threw him into an isolation Cell strapping him to the chair. The room itself was bloody had various markings dug into the wall and scratch marks on the door.

  I left after securing the inhuman who seemed too tired to even speak. But as I almost went out the door a voice called out.

  "Hey!" An agent said. As I turned around I saw him take out a knife and chop off the inhumans finger in one swift blow.

  Yet a green glow emitted from the inhuman's hand and in a matter of seconds his finger regrew.

  "It's sick isn't it? Don wants to know their healing capabilities. See if we can find a limit. You just guard the door and make sure no one interrupts." The agent said with a grin. I nodded and stepped outside closing the door behind me.

  My shotgun leaned on the wall and I listened to each grotesque sound and blood-curdling scream that came out. I stood. And I didn't flinch.

  And eventually the door flung open a agent stepped out covered in so much blood it looked like he had taken a bath in it.

  He stared at the hall his gaze distant before his head snapped to me. His eyes carried an unsettling look as he said.

  "Two hours and seven minutes. He healed for that much time until he finally gave out. Tell Don."

  "Sure.." I nodded and kicked myself off the wall grabbing my shotgun to protect myself from him more than anyone. Taking a quick glance inside the room the floor was a pool of blood and the inhuman was missing most of his fingers and toes, many facial features were cut off. There were various limbs of the same limb. To Many noses. Too many fingers. I looked away before I could see more. I would rather keep my conscience clean.

  I sped walked to the Lead Detective's office. I knocked. And waited until he allowed me in.

  "Two hours seven minutes..the inhuman healing gave out." I blurted out.

  "Good. Now we know they have a limit. We'll hand the corpse over to the regulars later. How did you feel about the experience, Park?" Don asked.

  "I wasn't there. But..the sounds were..unsettling." I answered.

  "Don't worry, boy. You'll get used to it. We all do."

  "Right.."