The sun had set, dusk lasted thirty minutes before the sun fully retreated, leaving the night sky pitch black. The Armored Limousine CSS used for excursions was white. It may have been armoured, but it still needed to look as though someone of class, and when the Romacellin’s are involved. Class is the only language to be sanctified.

After all, they were Bridge City’s richest family.

The humming groan of the engine pulsed continuously as we made our way to our destination. I sat at the window, taking the lights from the city below, which eventually disappeared whilst thick green forests with snaking roads appeared beneath us.

The Western District of Bridge City was where we were headed. A gated community of some sort, but more like a Walled Community. It was where the majority of the credits lived, Not actual credits, but those own majority of the credits. The One Percent. Or so they would like to believe I mused.

As Onesers, they too had the firepower to protect themselves. Combat Drones soared beside us, expecting us with propulsion boosters groaning loud off to make the Armored Limousine shake upon a passing flyby.

It wasn’t the appropriate etiquette for a company such as CSS, but how else were they to warn us that we could be blown out of the sky.

The Romacellin Mansion came into view as we approached, five acres off. It was a five-story castle, surrounded by five acres of flowers, statutes and anything they deemed valuable to show their lavish lifestyle.

All I saw was wasted credits on bullshit that could’ve fed half the Federation.

The first acre consisted of jasmine flowers, their white petals meshed together with the green stem, giving an acre the look of white dust sprinkled across an unlit cricket field.

The second acre was yellow bellflowers, swaying with a gentle gust of the wind. I couldn’t see the bell-like petals from the distance above, but I could hear the gentle swish the flowers made. It was tranquilly hypnotic.

The third acre was bougainvillaea, the pink to purple flower glowed in the night. Naturally, bougainvillaea didn’t glow, but it was now possible through genetic engineering. I’d never seen the flower before, but I was happy to see them now. If only I could pick a few for Shin-Lee and Hannah I mused bitterly.

The fourth acre was black lilies, which had a shade of purple. Out of all the flowers I’ve seen tonight, the black lilies were my favourite, especially with their trailing purple effect.

The remaining acre was green, a simple lawn design with maze-like hedging cut into shape, making the white five-story castle even grander, the closer we got.

I did all this to keep myself distracted, but it was no use. As I still felt Rynord’s eyes trained on me, as if I were some fish he was about to gut. “Problem Rynord?” I finally asked, taking my eyes from the window.

“No problems Cypher,” He answered, smiling ruefully as usual.

“Are you sure? You’ve been eyeing me the entire trip.”

“I’m sure.” He said rocking his head back in his chair.

I turned in my seat, feeling as the leather squeaked beneath me as I tried to make myself comfortable. Outside of the Limousine may have been armoured, but on the inside, it was far from.

Stelyne sat opposite me next to Naedon and Stelig, the one with the mohawk and Tryzer, the one with the neck tattoo sat next to Rynord.

The Limousine began descending from the sky at an angle, which forced me to the right. A loud spooling sound bellowed from beneath me and a loud clank followed, then, the limousine stabilised.

The door shot open and Stelyne was the first one through the door, datapad in hand. Stelig and Naedon followed.

Rynord, then Tryzer, I came up the rear, but still caught Stelig eyeing me as I exited the vehicle. A gust of cold cool breeze brushed against my lips, stealing moisture from them. I dabbed my lips with my tongue, tasting to fresh green air, which left an impression on me, one I couldn’t describe. “This is the cleanest air I’ve ever tasted,” I whispered to myself. Is this how they live…with such lean air?

I took myself out of my thoughts and rounded the car, going left, whilst the squad was taking up their designated positions.

One would think that was the most dramatic thing about this, but it wasn’t it was the castle that stood behind them…in its glory.

The five-story castle was eighty-seven feet in height and fifty feet wide. The hue from the moon made the white paint seem pristine and the yellow and green vines, that were etched into the side of the building, made it seem like a building right out of a book.

In front of the building, were eight white pillars, standing there, holding up nothing. I tried to understand why the pillars weren’t attached to the building itself but no answer came, It just didn’t make sense, unless it was done for aesthetics alone.

Rynord whistled to my right and I could hear the Captain’s neck muscles snap as flicked his head left, glaring at him. At least I know he lacks the discipline of an ordinary soldier…or is it arrogance? I asked myself.

The CSS squad and I formed a short line and watched as the doors swung open for a castle and the Romacellin family slowly came pouring through.

The Romacellin stood at the top of the staircase, wearing daishiki’s and kitenges, with varying colours and lengths, making them seem as though they never set foot inside of Bridge City.

Stelyne, who strutted across the lawn, approached the bottom of the staircase and waited for the Romacellin family to saunter down the staircase, all six of them.

I hadn’t noticed it before, but they all wore masks. I zoomed in with my cybernetic eye, noticing their elongated eyes and a nose to match, white dots dabbed onto the nose and around the eyes of each mask. The style of the mask registered as a Dogon mask within my cybernetic eye, a style I’ve never heard of.

The Romacellins pulled their masks free and I was met with pampered faces, haughty sneers, and wrinkled noses. As if they couldn’t be any more bourgeois. I wanted to roll my eyes, I knew how the elites were and imagined that deposit hitting my account. Yeah…don’t care enough I said to myself.

With all six gathered at the bottom of the staircase, I did my best to hide my frustration, was this dramatization even needed? I think not, but whatever.

The Romacellins weren’t paired off, with the men standing to my left and the women to my right. The first Romacellin man on the left wore a perfectly fitted blue dashiki with four inverted arrows in a textile embroidery weaving across his chest and waist.

His head beamed from the moon’s light due to his baldness, with the only form of hair he flashed was the prickly beard he tried to show. His teeth seemed whiter than the castle itself, and that was something I barely caught glimpse of as he seemed to keep his mouth sewn shut.

That was Reggiin Romaecellin, the dossier Stelyne gave me, showed he had a pension for alcohol, which meant we had to watch his intake or watch him ‘bring the family name down’. Ugh, I thought.

The second Romacellin stood to the first’s right in a sombre yellow daishiki with circular-like embroidery coloured in purple and white. This one had more confidence, as his face held a knowing smile to match his sneering eyes. He had a little gut, which didn’t match the first Romacellin’s perfectly fitted daishiki, but it still made him seem regal.

Staphor Romacellin, the prince of Romacellin, as they so like to call him. The dossier showed he was clean…too clean, which meant his shit was deep, everything he did had to be cleaned up. Perfect, I thought.

The last Romacellin man, who stood in the middle, hands clasped behind his back, emphasizing his broad chest and small waist. He had a square face with friendly wrinkles. His hair was pitch black, a stark contrast to the silver-grey beard he had which was cut quite short.

His daishiki was black and white, matching his hair, overall. However, unlike the other Romacellin men it lacked any form of embroidery stitched into his clothes, as to say he didn’t need it. Interesting I thought to myself.

Ulion Romacellin, the Patriarch of the family. The man who ran the family, and its businesses. Easily the most important man here. His record was clean too. The dossier showed his friends, which was a page long. However, it was ten pages long in the case of his enemies. You had to do a lot to have ten pages full of enemies. I thought, hmmm…my list is still longer though, a whole Empire.

The three Romacellin women were as elegant as anyone would expect. The stoof on the right, wearing flowing kitenge’s to match their husband’s dashikis. The eldest looking woman who stood next to the Patriarch was his wife, Romacellin wore flowing Kitenge with her shoulders showing. The floral textile design of her dress was mashed in green, white and light brown. The gele she wore, covered the majority of her hair.

The textile design matched her dress. She wore a simple necklace that extended to her waist. However, between the three women, I noticed that her dress was the longest, sweeping the ground.

The second woman wore a Kitenge, but of a vastly different style. It was a crop-top Kitenge, puffed at the shoulders. The Kitenge skirt was also puffed but a few inches from her waist, tightening around the lower section of her thighs, displaying her toned legs, perfectly.

The textile design of her outfit was peach, blue and white and was of a simpler design compared to the older Romacellin. Its design was a series of squares, straight lines interloped into a jaded slash.

She wore knee-high sandals which looped into X’s from bottom to top. However, that wasn’t the interesting thing she wore, but the fringe choker necklace she had on. It is made up of beads, matching the colours of her kitenge.

Chalest Romacellin, wife to Staphor Romacellin, the one with sneering eyes. There’s no information about her before she turned up, as Staphor’s wife, which led people to believe she’s his clone…which is downright freaky, if true.

The final woman, who was the youngest of them all, wore had her hair twisted into eight spikes with gold woven into each spike. Her face was supple, matching her voluptuous figure, which made her Kitenge dress seem as though it was painted onto her body, despite only showing her arms.

The textile design of her dress was black and gold in splotch-like effects. Her face was average at the beast, but her lips were thick and curled when she smiled. The fringe choker necklace she wore wasn’t beads, but a series of black and gold rings, with fine interlocking black and gold chains dangling in front of her chest.

Weonio Romacellin, she was the childhood sweetheart of Reggin Romacellin, well that’s what the dossier read. The only information the dossier provided was that, dangerous when provoked, which meant keeping her away from conflict. Which meant, I, as the Shadow, had to make sure she stayed out of trouble.

“Now that we’re all here.” Ulion Romacellin said, “I think it’s time we leave.” He walked past us as if we weren’t even there and stomped himself into the Armored Limousine without care.

That was all dandy and good, but as soon as I turned making my way to the vehicle something, no…someone caught my eye. A woman appeared at the bottom of the staircase, where the hell did she appear from I asked myself.

The woman walked up to Stelyne, whose head was down in her datapad as usual. The two chatted for a couple of seconds, then Stelyne pointed to the Armoured Limousine, ushering the woman towards.

The urge to zoom in on the woman was there, but I let the moment pass, then I finally saw her face when she but a mere metre away from me. “Cypher, fancy meeting you here.” The woman said lightly, giving me a wry smile and a mocking salute.

I bit my bottom lip, held in my anger and watched as she walked by me. “It’s good to see you too Commissioner Hexan,” I said, lying through my teeth.