“So let me get this straight,” O’Malley began, “This guy was a renowned demi-human hunter, with a heat-blade, and still ended up like that?” The other investigators nodded, glancing at the bloody spectacle behind them and turning back to O’Malley.

“It appears that way,” one of the investigators said, “He had his permitted heat-blade, a medium sized bag of quick-rite, and a license for purging demi-humans.”

The next butted in, “On top of that, the locals know him as ‘Joshua of the Mana Wire Mill.’ He’s a bit of a celebrity, actually. According to the records, he’s purged over a dozen demis. He’s supposed to have a mana shield, but we didn’t find one, so the suspects either stole it at some point or he simply left it at home,” she added. The rest of the investigators sporadically included more details, painting a clearer picture for O’Malley. From all of the evidence gathered, he could piece together a simple timeline: two people, at least one of them demi-human, were walking through the alleys of the industrial district when Joshua found them. After, no doubt, a few threats one of them attacked and killed the man in a single, bloody strike. They then fled the scene, paying little mind to any evidence they left behind.

It was clear that the murder was not premeditated, as more conflicting mana would have been left to throw enforcers off of the assailants’ trail. Despite that, it was still clearly done without remorse judging by the state of the body. He sighed and held up a hand, “Either way, we will have a clearer picture once the-”

“The Speaker arrives, correct?” a new figure asked, “Apologies for my lateness. I was held up by the greatest plague in the land. Politics,” he said, garnering subdued chuckles from the investigators. O’Malley turned to the new figure and found the signature faceless mask gazing at him. The figure, a man, wore a robe of deep green, proving his identity as a Speaker. “I appreciate your work, gentlemen and gentleladies. If it would not be a bother, I would like to Hear the words of the air.” Every investigator moved to give the man room as he strode deep into the alley and lowered his head.

“A figure speaks. A young girl. Her brother, a young man, replies. They haven't a clue as to their location. They ponder where they are. The girl wonders what a factory is. A third voice rings, not quite there. She speaks of Titans and pagan gods and different worlds. One of them is named Luna, the man Kain. A fourth voice speaks, promising cleansing. They converse, Kain being polite, the second man slipping further into god-fearing reverie. He speaks his title, Joshua of the Mana Wire Mill. The air whips. Blood flies. Luna defends her brutality with words of self defense. The second female voice agrees. A new voice emerges. He stumbles his words, speaking of… bars and clubs, h-he then offers them sanctuary. Th-they follow, with h-hurried steps,” he huffs, out of breath, “I apologize, but this is strenuous. Reading the air is difficult, especially after such a long time.”

O’Malley shakes his head, “Not at all, Speaker. We have plenty now,” he assured, turning back to the other investigators as an enforcer helps the Speaker sit by the entrance of the alley, “We have names, possible locations, and even some interesting details. One of them spoke of different worlds, which can only have one meaning,” he said as everyone else widened their eyes and held their breath, “We have three void-dwellers, rift-walkers, or whatever else you want to call them. I would usually say that this is above our paygrade, but we are some of the highest-ranking detectives in the city.”

The Speaker stood suddenly, and walked up to O’Malley, “Again, I thank you for your work. You keep this city safe and I can only appreciate that. I will be taking my leave now,” he said, walking briskly out of the alley. O’Malley shrugged and got back to work.

*=====*

Kain stirred and his eyes shot open. He stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up. The basement was colder than he would have liked, but was undoubtedly more comfortable than the cave he and Luna slept in for weeks. As he stirred, the crystal on the nightstand began to effuse blue smoke, soon gathering into the multi-armed form of Ythane, “You seem to have slept well,” she observed.

He shrugged lightly, “It’s colder than I would like, but it’s better than sleeping out in the street. Anyway, it’s about time I make new clothes. We’ve been using these for a while, so they probably stink,” he mused, pulling out a large roll of grey cloth. After making multiple outfits, he was quite good at sewing —even if Luna was faster— so he was able to finish just as Luna awoke. He threw her the new outfit as she stretched and turned away as she silently changed. Once he did the same, they ventured out of their room with Ythane behind them.

After navigating the short hallway, they entered the common room and laid eyes on real demi-humans. In one of the armchairs facing the television sat a short man. He was bald, had a large red beard, square jaw, tanned skin, full cheeks, and an extra pair of black eyes on his forehead to match his two lower white eyes. The next demi-human was cooking breakfast in the kitchen area. Her non-human trait was much more obvious, as her entire lower body was dominated by a ticket of thin, smooth tentacles. Most of the noodle-like tentacles were wrapped around her legs to form a makeshift dress that didn’t reach the floor, revealing the otherwise normal legs the woman possessed. Her hair was pink coral, the same as her tentacles, and her eyes mimicked the hue. The third and final demi-human was a seemingly normal human with brown hair, blue eyes, and remarkably effeminate features for their broad shoulders and thick arms. The man with effeminate features was seated across from Gus at the dining room table, arguing, “We can’t keep going like this,” the third demi-human said, showing his sharp teeth, “The Purity bastards may be too afraid to comb through the slums now, but if we wait another few months, they’ll have enough of their flock swarming through the slums looking for demis to burn. At that point, all the Union has to do is kill one of the rioters, blame it on the people of the slums, and have full support in slaughtering the entire area!”

“They wouldn’t go that far,” Gus countered in a weary tone, “I can’t imagine a reason why they would want to purge the slums. If nothing else, they can get a stream of poor or debt-ridden cannon fodder if they dig their claws in deep enough.” He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples.

The woman standing in the kitchen and cooking with her hands and tentacles spoke up, “Gussy! Don’t use that sort of talk here! We don’t claw-shame in this household!” she lectured, her voice emanating authority over the room. She turned from her task to address Gus directly, “You should- Ah, our guests have woken up!” she cheered, smiling at the group.

Her words compelled the other two demi-humans and Gus to turn to the adjoining hallway. The red-bearded demi-human was the first to speak, “These are the ones who gave Joshua his reckoning? That seems about right from what I see. Their disguise is almost perfect, even,” he said with a smug grin.

While the short man spoke, the third demi-human took a good look at the three, “Agreed. For once. They seem at the very least competent. Especially if they’re who I think they are,” he added with a secretive smile.

Luna and Ythane seemed unphased, but Kain gave a quizzical glance down at his posture. He realized that he had slipped into his hunting stance he learned from Uncle Trunks as a child, his knees bent ever so slightly and muscles taut to hide at any moment, and corrected his posture with a forced smile, “Apologies,” he said, “We are simply new and in a… precarious position. One we did not expect, at the very least.”

The four smiled politely, the stocky demi-human giving a grin by the end of his statement. “Yep,” he declared, “Mana right there. And some whacky sorts as well! I can only imagine what sort of magnum opus you're wearing there!”

Kain, Luna, and Ythane, slightly stunned, stared at him in confusion while he grinned at them. The woman in the kitchen cleared her throat, trying to get the room’s attention, “Where are our manners? We still haven’t given you our names. My name’s Valerax. Odd name, I know, but I came from a different place and a different time,” she explained, still warmly smiling.

“Good thing you remember that, ya old hag,” the man in the armchair snickered, “I bet you’re older than half the countries of the world.”

Valerax’s smile strained a bit, but she still kept her kind tone, “I’ll be forever 21,” she declared, earning a smile from everyone else in the room.

The man laughed, “Whatever you say, Elder Val,” he said, “Anyway, I’m Buck. Don’t ask about the name, by the way.”

The third demi-human nodded, “That just leaves me then. My name is Zlea. I noticed that the other two didn’t give their demi-human type, so I’ll tell you instead. Miss Valerax is a Xujamet, Buck is a dwarf, and I’m a mixed human. Now that you’re caught up, mostly, we have a few things to discuss. First and foremost: are you three extradimensionals?”

*=====*

So… I have been busy. Unfortunately, this schedule is going to continue for another week, but I’ll be mostly clear after that. Anyway, thanks for reading.