Thud, thud, thud.

"Knock, knock, rise and shine!"

Fetter's face was beaming as Nero opened the door with sleep still painted on his face. The person who was banging on his door this early in the morning was dressed in ragged clothes, and behind him, was a large man in a suit. He could only hope this wasn't some sort of comedy skit.

"I don't want to buy anything..." Nero attempted to close the door, but Fetter caught it with an unnatural amount of strength.

Grant flashed his badge while Fetter spoke. "We aren't here to sell you something, just asking a few questions and returning something."

Nero stared somewhat blankly as the words took their time to process in his still sleeping mind.

"Sure, come on in. Make yourselves at home."

Fetter and Grant stepped into the tiny room. It was as though a normal suburban home was shoved into a pocket of space, a bedroom was on the left, a kitchen was on the right. Piles of clothes were scattered across the floor and Nero standing there, opening the fridge.

"I've got some soda, and water. I don't have enough to share food though."

"No, we don't mean to intrude. Instead I'd like to make you an offer. It seems like you aren't doing too well financially, despite attending the university, and I myself am in need of someone who attends."

Nero sat down on his bed, leaving his two guests standing. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just gather some information, you don't even have to worry about being covert."

"How much can you pay me?"

"Two hundred and eighteen thousand. Payment due after receiving useful information."

Nero seized up. This was an impossible amount of money for him. This was precisely the amount of his loans that he was using to attend the college. "What do you need?"

"Any and all information on whether any teachers or students are working with other organizations. Even just rumors are helpful."

"Why? Can't you just check their background like you did to me?"

Fetter laughed before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the plastic ID card. "I didn't need to check any information on you."

Nero reached down to his pockets, patting at his pants, as if expecting a familiar lump to reappear.

"Relax, we have the rest of your wallet too. It's also free, not part of the deal."

"Who are you guys?"

"Fetter Young, heir apparent for Red Claw, current leader of District 7. This here is Grant Johnson, a detective with the IMB."

Nero sat in silence for a minute, and then let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll do it."

***

"Where are we going now, Fetter?"

The duo was walking down a road, the sun setting to their left.

"To the new boss of K13, we've got to let him know that there is a potential coup in the works."

"This seems counter productive for establishing your own foothold."

"Everything's nicer when we work together."

"Do you think he'll even believe you? You left the others to escape yesterday, and it will be our word against their's today. On top of that, we are the outsiders."

"That's why we pick up those three first, and get them to admit their guilt." Fetter pulled his phone out from his pocket, with it ready to record.

"Do we have any idea where they are?"

"I got a tip that they are right up ahead, at an abandoned meat creation plant."

"I was never fond of disguising plants as meat. I understand that it's necessary for our city to be self-sufficient, but they should just call it like it is."

"You are a surprisingly picky stoic."

They turned a corner to face a large cream-colored building. It was a perfect cube, except for the various lines of windows up the side of the building. The gray double doors looked miniscule on the side of the massive block. on the right handside was a loading dock for trucks to deposit materials and pick up the freshly processed meat. A working factory would be a busy sight at all hours, but this one was deserted.

Fetter turned towards Grant. "Would you like to go first?"

"Please."

Grant tightened his musles with a deep exhale. A lustruous sheen seemed to develop him as he went inside the door. The moment the door opened, a loud crack could be heard. A steel beam had fallen onto Grant, and bent in half over him. He simply shrugged it off and continued on to trip the next trap to make way for Fetter. Shouting could be heard echoing through the halls.

The building's interior was divided into four sections, the bottom floor had a loading dock for trucks, and the equipment to load and portion the various ingredients to create the signature meat substitute. The top floor had the management offices and all of their physical record keeping, both sides of the facility were identical.

"Don't bother hiding then big man." Fetter let out a whistle as he stepped over the steel beam. He calmly walked behind Grant.

Opposite them, Eric came down from the stairs. He looked across the room and immediately went about pulling up walls to lock them down. Apollo was beside him, and began shooting orange pellets at Grant, who was clearing the path. They did little to slow him, and didn't even show signs of scratching him. Behind them, the leader was pushing his way through to see what was happening.

"Boss Fetter, quite a pleasure to see you and your IMB cronies coming all the way to little old District 13!"

"Quite boastful for someone whose parents disowned him as a preteen, Karl McClure."

"Shut the fuck up about things you don't know." The small man rushed headlong forward, breaking past Grant who was preoccupied with the bullets and walls.

Fetter grinned, and launched himself forward with explosive speed. The ground he pushed from showed no effect, yet the fist buried into Karl's gut felt as though he was smacked by a semi truck in the small space. The wind blasted past him afterwards, launching Karl backwards with it. The snap of a sonic boom deafened his ears.

Fetter's arm meanwhile, was hanging at an odd angle, a strange grin still sprawled across his face. "God damn that still fucking hurts. Allen, Eric, you can let up now."

The two large guys stopped attacking Grant.

"Thank you for your tip, as promised, you have a spot with us. Betrayal is frowned upon normally, but a damn rapist will rot in a cell."

"You... betrayed... me?"

The groaning husk of a man on the ground brought himself back up. A new fire was renewed in his eyes. Another pair of arms, a giant blue phantom of sorts, appeared to his sides.

"Give it up Karl."

"Fucking try me! I don't care if you are the boss of some goverment dogs! A damn puppy ain't shit to fucking beat the crap out of."

"I warned you."

"Your fucking arm is broken and you still want to go?"

Fetter began to walk up to him, and Karl lunged forward as a response, the phantom arms swinging violently the entire time. Fetter ducked down, weaving between the blows, and placed a hand simply on Karl's shirt.

"Lay down."

Karl fell to the ground, the weight was immeasureable, the fabric of his clothing had pulled him not to just kneeling, but laying flat on the ground, crushing the air out of his lungs.

"Good boy. Now go to sleep."

Fetter tapped against the back of his neck, and a sickening crunch resounded. He turned towards Grant.

"I've paralyzed him from the neck down. Call for someone to pick him up. I don't want to be out here any longer."

"I sent a message before we entered."

"Good. You two, come with me. We have more business to attend to."

***

Fetter entered the heavily guarded warehouse. Rather, it was now more similar to a sheet metal castle. There were fortified guard towers, search lights, and barbed wire fences surrounding the place. The interior was colored with luxurious black and gold, and a young man sat on an actual throne.

"Fetter Young, what are you doing here?"

Ricardo was on edge since he received the report that Fetter was spotted wandering around District 13. His presence could be the signal for the start of a deadly gang war across unrelated Districts. With Red Claws' governmental position in District 7, it was bound to take a toll on the city at large, and bring in the IMB to keep the peace.

"I came to give you some information and an apology."

"For what do you owe me an apology?"

"I didn't rescue your sister before she unfortunately had her face bruised, it might even leave the scar."

"Maria? Where is she?" Ricardo jumped up from his seat, almost belting across the room to see Fetter's face. He was barely hanging onto his throne with one hand.

"Relax, she's being treated at my place right now, she'll be back when she is healthy. In the meantime, I took out some trash for you. Karl McClure more specifically. He's the one responsible for the attack on your sister."

"Do you have any proof? Such a statement could simply be trying to incite inner turmoil in my faction. I will investigate this matter on my-"

"Ricardo. I told you I already took out the trash. Of course I made sure it was well and truly trash if it wasn't in my own bin. I even have some witnesses."

"Then what's your motive?"

"I finally got someone I can use on the inside, I can finally find out who that new level 6 they are hiding is. I just need you to not interfere with that specific one."

"'A man full of guile is only your friend if the goals align.' Sure I'll take your word on this. I expect to see my sister safely back here soon. If she isn't, I will retaliate."

"Do you not want to ask for a reward if all goes as planned?"

"If there well and truly is an unsecure level 6 roaming about, there isn't much that I could be rewarded with besides my and my sister's safety. Any more is no longer up to our whims."

"Suit yourself." Fetter walked off casually from the heart of another's territory, whistling.