The power stayed off. Lacking anything better to occupy myself, I reviewed the information I knew about Ray Hargrove. He lived on the outskirts of town in a significant, fenced-in estate, and off-duty law enforcement provided security for him. I imagined he might have a generator, but seeing as my phone wouldn’t turn on—maybe that didn’t matter. Whatever the hell happened to the power grid after the storm, it wiped my phone's battery. Even Sophie’s old laptop wouldn’t turn on, and my watch was useless, too.

  So, even if he had a generator, would it do anything? Maybe the storm broke the magnetic—well, I don’t fucking know how power works, all I knew was this could be an opportunity. Law enforcement would be getting called in on overtime, and Ray would no doubt be in his big house, with fewer or no guards and no working security systems. Never take an opportunity for granted.

  When I left my apartment, there were no cars on the streets. All the electric vehicles were dead, and with a drained battery and nothing to jump-start them from, gas vehicles were equally lifeless. It was quiet in a way I wasn’t familiar with—no cars, electronics, or buzz from the power lines. People hid indoors, for or from what I didn’t know. Norwich wasn’t exactly the town that would devolve into looting after a single storm. Maybe survival instincts told them to hide, or the collective animal wisdom of our race somehow sensed that 50 Factors and a Harbinger now walked the earth.

  Trees blocked the road in numerous places—a few large limbs here, entire adult oaks there. Many windows were broken, trash was everywhere, and it was a big mess. I had to clamber through some of the trees, and while in the thick foliage of one, I engaged Halo Shift. My body boiled away instantly, and I flowed into the ghostly form of Eclipsed Veil.

  The transition was instantaneous, yet within that brief instant, an agonizing shriek filled my mind, a terrifying blend of the world's apparent torment and my own existential dread. My body broke down and dissolved into the energy fields known as Lumen Arbitris. Whatever esoteric physics ruled Lumen Arbitris were different from other forms of energy I’d ever heard about. My new body flowed like water but had no substance. I looked like a shadow of the Grim Reaper, a blur of black that shot down the streets at speeds rivaling a car. I was a shimmer in the air, an absence, maybe a distortion rather than a presence.

  Again, that world of silence crept in, extra hard this time. I couldn’t hear my breathing or heartbeat because I didn’t have either. There was no crunch of boots, not even a misting of the cool morning air with my breath. I didn’t even cast a shadow.

  Not that anyone could see me or catch more than a glimpse of darkness in my travels. Eclipsed Veil was for stealth. No one would catch more than a glimpse of me as long as I remained on the move and didn’t make a show of myself—at least, that’s how it was supposed to work. I was prepared to be disappointed if things went sideways. That’s why my Eclipsed Veil avatar was an empty set of Grim Reaper robes—nothing could be linked to Dustin Carrow, even if someone watched me commit murder.

  The destruction caused by the storm grew worse the further outside of Norwich I went, as if the town itself had been shielded by a bubble or given a reprieve from whatever wrathful entity had controlled the strange storm. I had to stifle a laugh when I approached the Hargrove estate. The large ten-foot brick wall raised around the estate toppled into heaps in multiple locations, and the storm ripped the gates free from the wall. Apparently, in its wrath, the storm had hurled the dislodged iron gates at the mansion. I’d never seen a storm commit this kind of targeted damage before—did that owe to the Arbiter, the Factors, or simply a coincidence?

  Dead security cameras regularly topped what was left of the wall. Two men in black stood at the missing gate, staring up and down the road that ran in front of it. They seemed desperate to leave; no doubt they were late for their real jobs. I paused in the wall's shadow to listen to them momentarily.

  “You ever think about how screwed up this is? We should be out there, doin’ our actual jobs, y’know? Instead, we’re here. Playing watchdog for Hargrove because his big wall and gate got knocked down by a storm. He ain’t the Governor!” The first man complained.

  “You say that like we got a choice. The county budget’s been slashed to hell, and he pays better than the station. ‘Sides, who knows how many jobs they’ll slash to pay for all this damage. Power is still out, cars are all dead, and even the generator’s aint working. Maybe this is the end of the world? Remember that psychic who said President Hastings was the Antichrist and would lead us to damnation?” The younger deputy had a very different take than the older man.

  “Don’t remind me. I miss the cruiser, man. Standing in a driveway ain’t the same as packing up and running the gun on people speeding out of town. The cruiser had heat, at least. I’ll take keeping the peace anyday over sittin’ out here in the cold, watching a rich asshole’s house like a rent-a-cop.” The older man disagreed.

  “Keep your voice down. If Hargrove hears that, he’ll throw a big fit.” The younger man winced, and I watched him. Wasn’t I supposed to have some kind of Judgment powers? I didn’t like the younger guy, but he wasn’t radiating any sensations that he needed to be smote.

  “Let him. What’s he gonna do, fire me? Good. Maybe then I can go back to real work instead of babysitting a guy with enough home security to fight off the fucking Predator.” The older man spat to the side after he rebutted the younger man.

  The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Either way, we’re stuck here, freezin’ our asses off, guarding a guy who wouldn’t piss on us if we were on fire. Maybe it ain’t worth it,” the younger deputy mumbled.

  “Damn straight it ain’t. Hope there’s still a town left to police by the time we get out of here,” the old man bitched.

  I didn’t hang out to listen to it anymore. I floated along the driveway up to the estate. A few gusts of wind made a strange howling sound as they swept through the wrought iron gates that leaned against the mansion. I flowed through the wall, recalling the Arbiter’s off hand comment that space was no longer a barrier to me. He was right. There was no point using a door when you could just flow through walls, although windows were much easier to slip through for some reason. All the lights were out inside, but my perceptions extended beyond the limited range of human sight.

  Still, it was a huge ass house, and I had no idea where anything was. Lacking intel, all I could do was float up and down the halls until I found Raymond Hargrove—or one of his lackeys, who’d lead me there eventually.

  I noticed the cameras, magnetic door sensors, and motion sensors liberally placed throughout the house. They were all offline due to the lack of power. If I were a normal assassin, the level of security Hargrove possessed would’ve been annoying to circumvent. I probably would’ve had to resort to camping out and hoping for a long-range shot. Circumstances, however, had presented me with the perfect opportunity and a pretty young gal in a maid outfit carrying a sandwich sure as hell seemed like a sign from above.

  I followed her, and she led me to a big ol’ room on the back end of the house. Three of the walls, and the ceiling were glass. Tough glass, to have survived the storm with only a few nasty cracks throughout the whole room. The room had many houseplants and a few birds singing, all of which seemed tropical. Leave it to a rich asshole to fill his upstate New York house with plants from the fucking rain forests. They were pretty, I’ll give him that.

  Raymond Hargrove sat at a big black wooden table, reading a book in the sunlight. He wore a pair of tidy whites, a bathrobe, and slippers. I felt terrible for his employees having to see that. Like many men in their 50s, Raymond had a lot of body hair and a pot belly, and most of his hair had fallen out. His saggy old-man balls tried constantly to escape the confines of his underwear.

  Standing near Ray made my non-existent skin crawl. He wasn’t the scary kind of evil but the sad, disgusting kind.

  “Your Hand-Gathered, Pasture-Raised Golden Yolk Egg Sandwich, with Shaved Black Truffle & White Truffle Aioli, Caviar Toasted Brioche, Wagyu Beef Bacon, garnished with golden leaf, sir.” The maid lifted the little silver lid. It looked like an egg sandwich to me, but that was an awful lot of words for a simple sandwich.

  “In a sea of disappointment, you and Anton are my only solace, Milly,” Raymond complimented the maid, his eyes widening as she described his sandwich.

  “Anton worries that he won’t be able to maintain this quality of meal for long, sir. If the power isn’t restored soon he’s worried the walk-in’s will be a total loss.” Milly shared the concerns of who I assumed to be the chef.

  A vein pulsed above Hargrove’s left eye, and his face turned an ugly red.

  “I’ve already ordered that lazy fuck Jamil to get down there and fix the generators. If a single filet goes bad I want it shoved down his useless throat! Go!”

  Milly fled. I watched the asshole smirk in self-contentment at the fear exhibited by the maid. Real men, hell, real people, didn’t need to make themselves feel bigger by making others smaller. I always hated assholes like this. I thought maybe I’d be torn up about this or have some moral quandary. Watching Ray here, knowing what the Arbiter told me, and trusting my instincts? I knew this fucker didn’t deserve to live. He didn’t deserve any of the things he’d gotten in life; he’d obtained them through fraud, bribery, and blackmail. In a just society he’d never have made it this far.

  The world wasn’t a just world. Earth was, if anything, a Perverse world. Power was held in the hands of a real limited few, who clung to it in a self-reinforcing cycle of domination. The weak labored under the rationalization that this was just the way things were. Generation upon generation of oppression had resulted in the internalization of suffering, and many even defended their oppressors. That was the way the world works, they’d say.

  I remember sorting out the estate that Sophie left behind. Medical debt forced me to sell off the family home. Dad had left it to Sophie, and when she died, the mountain of medical debt got called in. I followed the lawyer's suggestion and sold the family home at auction. This asshole in front of me bought it and turned it into a rental for three times what the mortgage was.

  I lifted my hand and focused. Raymond Hargrove didn’t deserve any benedictions, warnings, or goodbyes. I focused on creating the flow of Lumen Arbitris and for a brief second, a white bar of light with a luminous core of black connected my hand and Raymond Hargrove’s left leg. I didn’t know how powerful this would be, especially in Veiled Eclipse, which reduced my ranged powers.

  Hargrove’s leg exploded in a fountain of blood, bone fragments, and loose pieces of flesh. It was like the Hulk hit a meat pinata with an unbreakable bat.

  I found myself nodding. I watched Hargrove. He fell to the ground, where he writhed in pain. I changed my aim, and the second blast hit him in the center of the chest. More pieces of flesh, bone, and hair filled the air.

  You have completed your mission! Elimination of Raymond Hargrove is complete!

  Return to the Room Without Mercy for your rewards.

  Given the circumstances, the voice was too cheery and a little out of place. Still, it seemed a bit easy. I just floated on in, exploded him, and now I could walk out. Anticlimactic, sure, but it was done. A man was dead, and I didn’t feel guilty about it. Should I have?

  I debated with myself the three minutes it took me to get back to the road, and the conclusion I’d come to was that I didn’t feel guilty because Raymond Hargrove hadn’t been a man at all, he’d merely been a parasite in the shape of one. You didn’t feel bad for killing mosquitos or leeches, after all. I couldn’t get it unstuck from my mind, nonetheless. I felt like I should’ve felt bad, and that I didn’t made me feel a little broken inside.

  Not that broken, though. Maybe I’d feel more on my next assignment.