August 26, 2058

Rivers Family Compound

Several miles southeast of Moonbeam, Algonkian-Manitou Council

~~~

While Leon and Sylvia were planning their run on BarrierSafe, Brandon was travelling down the old Trans-Canada Highway, headed back to one of his many family homes.

It had been 13 years since his exile from the Rivers clan. It had been a very bitter split, over issues that got Brandon heated when he was a young brave. But time healed some wounds, and some members of the Rivers clan had agreed with Brandon's stance at the time and to this very day. He still carried the last name Rivers, and his death would still be avenged, if it were a murder. However, he carried a mark upon him that he was not fully part of the family, with his traditional blue headband being adorned with four burned feathers, instead of four clean ones. Brandon had charred the feathers himself, as his way of breaking ties with the family.

Today, he was reconnecting with a member of the Rivers clan, one of his cousins from some vague branch of the family tree named Tyson Rivers. Tyson needed help breaking down a poor soul via interrogation, who had broken into a Rivers family compound. People who committed any sort of crime against a Rivers had to be met with a swift and vicious response. It was the Rivers family way. However, before they killed this wannabe break-in artist, they needed to know who sent him. Tyson was inexperienced with true torture techniques, so he called in Brandon to help teach him some things and handle this job. It was a paying job, of sorts, and Brandon still felt a pull of duty despite his complicated relationship with the family.

So it was on the road to Moonbeam, a small boomtown in the eastern part of the Council lands, in what was formerly the Canadian province of Ontario. Moonbeam had become a popular place after the Awakening, as a giant 1950s style UFO prop in the town had somehow become a mana conduit. The astral plane of Moonbeam also contained some pretty interesting spirits, enabling shamans to learn some powerful spells, and shamans also theorized that there were good materials in the local flora to use in rituals. With magic as its industry, Moonbeam's population swelled a bit, and became a popular stop for young braves on vision quests, and lower-level shamans looking to step up.

The Rivers family had bought land near the town and set up a compound, using it to train freshly Awakened shamans and store valuable ritual materials. Presumably, the materials were what the burglar was after. But he was about to find out, as he peeled off a side road into the family property, where a jovial-looking Tyson Rivers waited by the gate.

"Heyyyyyy cousin!" said Tyson, as Brandon's truck drove in. Tyson proceeded to hop in the back cab as Brandon parked, and beat some sort of rock and roll drum tune on the roof. Brandon guessed he was high on something, probably marijuana mixed with astral sage. Some members of the Rivers clan needed to be in an altered state in order to do what was expected of them.

Brandon got out of the truck and embraced his cousin.

"It's been too long, Brandon! How ya been!"

"I'm getting by."

Tyson laughed, and was clearly high as hell on something, as they chatted banally about nothing while heading towards the compound. A flunky let them into the side door of a warehouse, and locked the door behind them.

Brandon walked down a maze of long hallways lit with red bulbs. It was the typical effect in Rivers properties, making whatever poor bastard was being walked down to interrogation feel like he was in the ninth circle of hell.

"You know, some of us miss you, eh?" said Tyson. "We didn't disagree with you at the time. Some of the old people running the Rivers family these days are such sticks in the mud. We need to get back at those corps, man! Show them that we run the land!"

"We do that, we end up dead." said Brandon. "I've run a couple small corps. If it weren't for a wiz shaman we've got with awesome Invisibility spells, we might've died."

"How is that guy you're running with anyways? Leon Eagles, right? He as good as they say?"

"No, hes not as good as they say......"

Brandon smiled at Tyson.

"He's even better."

Tyson laughed at that. As they reached the end of one hallway, there was a grim-looking portrait of the old family patriarch, Sam Rivers. The first one to Awaken to magic amongst the Rivers clan in 2011, Sam was a key figure in Algonkian independence battles against the old Canadian government. Sam even was present at the Great Ghost Dance ritual, aiding its success with his considerable magical abilities. As a result of his service, he became a top advisor in secret to the Civil and War Chiefs, once the Algonkian Council nation was established.

Unfortunately, Sam died in the same way he liked to live: In bed with his wife and two prostitutes. The cause was thought to be a heart attack, although conspiracy theories had been quietly bandied about since. Sam was Brandon's grandfather from his mother's side, and attending his funeral was one of the last things Brandon did before leaving the family.

Tyson snapped off a lazy salute to the picture. Brandon did the same. Another family tradition.

Finally, they reached a large room where the break-in artist was being kept. A weaselly looking man was chained to the ceiling, bruised and bloodied, with his feet strapped to the back of his thighs. He swung in the air like a big punching bag, and as he saw the two Rivers boys enter the room, he started laughing.

"Oh man, you suck so much at this, you had to bring in big bad Brandon Rivers! How do Leon's boots taste, you greasy fragging Injun!"

"You know this guy?" Tyson said.

"Yeah, hes a nobody. Just some two-bit cat burglar called Stormin' Norman." Brandon said, with a vicious-looking smile on his face. "What brings you to Moonbeam?"

"Like I'm telling you. You won't get me to talk, just like that drek-head beside you couldn't make me talk."

"Hey come off it with the disrespect, eh?" Tyson said, before walking over to Norman and slapping the taste out of his mouth. Brandon quickly pulled Tyson back and admonished him.

"Come on man, didn't they teach you anything when you turned 16? You don't start with the head, the victim gets all fuzzy."

Brandon put on a pair of gloves, similar to the knuckle dusters Leon wore sometimes in fights.

"......This is how you do it!"

Brandon fired a crashing left hook into Norman's ribs, and then followed it up with a right hook to the other side of the body. Norman wheezed out in pain, taking gasping breaths, before he eventually started chuckling.

"......You......you hit like a girl......you know that......?"

Brandon and Tyson slowly looked at each other, and started chuckling. Brandon then paused, took a deep breath, and suddenly glowed with a yellow-ish magical aura. He had triggered internal chi points and manipulated the chi flow in his body using his Adept techniques, and now, he was more than he was before.

Brandon hammered Norman deep in the solar plexus, almost bending him in half, before holding him steady in the crook of his left arm. Brandon then used his free right hand to hammer punches into Norman's ribs, leaving visible bruises. Small cracking noises echoed through the room after the third or fourth punch, and they weren't Brandon's bones making that sound......

Norman gasped for air, trying desperately to fight through the pain of several broken ribs, and also trying to remember how that novel concept of breathing in and out worked.

"Your employer's the one in real trouble, man!" said Tyson. "There's no need for you to stand tall on it!"

"......Theres no other way......I can see it......"

Tyson sighed.

"Alright, lets get serious."

Tyson motioned over to what looked like a tool belt in the corner. Brandon rooted through it, and knew exactly what Tyson wanted. He grabbed a pair of needlenose pliers, passed them over to Tyson, and held Norman's lower half tight.

Tyson wheeled the pliers around in his hand, hooked them onto Norman's biggest toenail, and yanked hard. Most of the toenail popped out with a small squelch sound. It reminded Brandon of ripping the legs and wings off a grasshopper.

Norman howled with pain, as Tyson laughed.

"1 down, 9 to go buddy, how you feeling?"

Norman's howls of pain subsided, but he stubbornly refused to respond. Tyson shrugged, and started yanking out the remaining toenails, while Brandon firmly held Norman in place. Halfway through, they switched off. Tyson held Norman in place, while Brandon started ripping out toenails.

As Norman howled in pain, Brandon's thoughts flashed back to happier times in his life. He imagined a moment from when he was a teenager, where a friend of his mother's, possibly even a vague relative of some sort, asked Brandon to look out for her while she bathed in a creek one day.

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Brandon was 13 at the time, and of course he couldn't resist his base impulses. He peeked, and saw magical particles glowing all around her, as she twisted in the creekbed's water.

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Slowly, she turned around, and revealed her nude self to Brandon. She was a few months pregnant, but she looked gorgeous and perfect to Brandon at that moment.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

She smiled sadly at Brandon, and seemed to notice all along that Brandon was watching her bathe in the nude. But she continued to wash unabated. Brandon had looked away at first, but was tempted enough to keep stealing quick glances. As she wrapped herself in a towel and left the creek, she thanked Brandon for being such a good lookout, and gave him a knowing smile. Brandon didn't remember seeing her again after that day, which was a shame......

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

You had to think of the little things in life. The good things. Especially when doing stuff like this. It didn't bother him nearly as much as Sylvia was bothered by killing at the end of big runs. Hell, he suspected he even had a stronger stomach for violence than Leon, and Leon's body count was high. But it still bothered Brandon a bit to be doing this, even if he wouldn't admit it to anyone. For the rest of the Rivers, they dealt with it, either by taking drugs like Tyson, or by being a total sociopath, like most of the rest of the family. His mother included.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

But then, given what corporations like Aztechnology and Yokogawa and Renraku did these days, killing thousands of people for a relative pittance, as long as the pittance meant more Q4 profits...... Maybe the Rivers family weren't sociopaths after all.

Maybe they were just behind the rest of the curve......

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"