There is evil and there is good. They always believe in that, Gaston thought. That there is only that in this world. Gaston couldn’t believe in that. No man in this world. No person would be so good or evil. There might be a few around, but most of them die young in his experience.

He stood not far from a television store. It was an old one that somewhat stood the test of time. It was a landmark in this city. A remnant of the old world that had ended.

The new world wasn’t so different. The difference was that there were superpowers that were provided to protect the populace from the monsters.

From the start it was questionable to have them. In the beginning, they hide the powers, hoping that the military could only use them, to create their super soldiers. But the ichor made from the SPARTICLEs made it impossible to hide them. It didn’t help that those who are exposed get mutated.

Some turn into mindless mutates. The rest become mutants that are hated by people, disgusting sub-humans, is what they called. You think the problems with the skin color were already troublesome? Add grotesque appearances, extra arms, and deformed bodies, and you get a new kind of racism that was even worse when it was only the color of your skin that was debated.

The ichor itself was the shield that prevented this. The breakers were made because of their ability to take care of this problem. The serum itself was a vaccine, an all-cure, and immune system booster that makes people healthier and resistant.

On one hand the government would lose their super soldier formula made from the sacrifice of the natural-borne. On the other hand, there would be no humans alive if they don't give them the technology. The serum itself was the holy grail of all medicine. The panacea that evolved humans. The panacea that made it impossible for humans to continue on living this broken world.

The bioenergy shielding that they wore around their belts. The consumption of the ichorium was so massive that if humanity didn't regularly enter the split-ream. The world would face a crisis. It was the fossil fuel of the current world. The oil that keeps the world turning. Of course, if the ichorium is lost, the world would not end, but it would be harder to fight the biomass entities.

They breed too fast. Grow too fast and multiply through sexual and asexual means. They could cultivate mountains of flesh cocoons or have their partner create monsters from their wombs.

The Breakers are necessary. Second only to the weapons that keep the hands of humanity safe. Nonetheless, the birth of the Disruptor-tech has made it possible to neutralize the ichor. And through this tech that they might be able to put a chain on every breaker, making them docile, and non-addicted to the SPARTICLE that they consume.

Imagine that. Millions of humans wearing the cuffs that could disperse the ichor. Gaston was not that subservient to Sir Mortimer. He had to make sure that the cuffs that he was using made it possible for them to neutralize the ichor.

Maybe Sir Mortimer anticipated him to do so. Because the results showed that not only that the cuffs used the ichor in the body itself, it also transforms this ichor into a field.

Gaston had guessed that Sir Mortimer’s plan was to cuff every person in the world, or at least the people in major cities to create this field of ichor-neutralizing effect. It was a plan to create nodes that thoroughly cleanses the ichor.

The question however was if the world would allow it. There were many who profited from this. Many who profit from the mining, the fighting, and the contracts paid.

But Sir Mortimer was not afraid of them. Hell, even Gaston believed that he’d find a way to make huge profit from these. He doesn’t believe that he was doing this for humanitarian claims. The man was a businessman first, before he’s a human of morals.

He had spent long enough time in this field to understand that. They wouldn’t do this without benefits. And even if they did this for the sake of the human race, it doesn’t mean that they would do it without profiting from it.

They weren’t evil. They were simply humans who managed to be on the top of the food chain. They were brilliant realists who earned even if it meant stepping on a few.

Their methods are questionable most of the time, but they steer the world. The people might change things, but these men were the voices in the dark that could decide policies.

Rubedo Andino is a good man that had been targeted. He simply was the good man who needed to be trampled. Not only that it would neutralize his position, test the cuffs effect, it would also mean that there are individuals in higher positions that could benefit from the changes within the Thomas Church.

Destroying some of their members was simply enough. Gaston believed that this was a power play and a demonstration of what these cuffs can do. He didn’t have to reach Rubedo for this scheme to work, because he somewhat knew that all they needed was for the one behind the Church to take notice.

This wasn't simply like the movies in which arrogant men would come without thinking, question the ones targeting the Church without thought of the possible consequences. If they didn’t have the smarts, would they have been part of an organized union of mobsters?

They were not as rash. They were careful. It was why they insisted on talks instead of conflict. Why would they bother to make a noise?

It was simply unthinkable for these professionals to make such a mistake. They have their own connections. Contacts that they could ask if someone was targeting them. The world wasn’t so secure that every movement could be hidden. Not to mention that this change of leadership would benefit them.

Rubedo Andino was a good man.

A good man forced into doing bad things.

Among the many people that Gaston had met or known. He was sure that Rubedo Andino was truly one of those good men that had truly given his life for his cause.

And that same man now stood before a court of men. Shamed, slandered, and forced to confess his crimes against the people and the state.

It was a display that happened too quickly. As if the bureaucrats couldn’t bother waiting. News programs, radios, forums were simply exploding with the headline: Church Leader supplies Extremists.

He was being connected. He was turned into a scapegoat for the people. Rubedo Andino stood on trial with a gloomy face. Was he contemplating this betrayal? Or was this simply just another bump in the road?

“Good work, good work,” Gaston muttered to himself. It didn’t feel good. Being the one who would put a good man like Rubedo. It was easy to trick yourself into this idea that you are the good man here.

But that wasn’t good for the soul. He had to admit that Rubedo was a good man, suffering this now instead of later. It was hard to be the one who puts them into this kind of situation. He didn’t do this out of some personal beliefs. He did this so that he could simply survive.

He hated the idea of fighting. He hated the parts of his job that made him do this. But despite that, Gaston knew that he couldn’t throw it away so easily. It was because of the payment alone. The benefits he was getting from knowing these people and doing what they requested were too good.

No one does anything without benefits.

He wanted to believe that truly.

The program showed Rubedo being scrutinized. Witnesses, former members, and even opportunists were making use of this to bring him down. Rubedo didn’t deserve it, truly.

Gaston sighed. He checked his email and saw a notification. The payment from Sir Mortimer coming in with a disposable email. Decrypting the file sent, he played the video sent to him.

“I thank you for your good work. Your reputation and effectiveness is truly among the best in the intelligence community, Sir Hardy. The payment has been wired, and you shall receive your pension if you do decide to retire to the red planet.”

Gaston closed the video, deleted it, and then turned his attention back to the program as Rubedo gets called for a statement.

Then, the skies rumbled, Gaston looked up and saw dark clouds gathering alongside the heavy wind coming from the west. He gave the television a good long look before entering his car. He drove back to the apartment, climbed up and entered without knocking. On the fridge was Hil drinking a beverage while barely dressed.

Gaston gave her a glance, grunted. “Can you dress up first?”

He went out of the door and waited for a minute before going in. Opening it, he strode in, and then crashed on the sofa. She was dressed now, in her tank top and her athletic shorts.

“Thought you’d leave by now.”

“I might. This apartment is cozy, but not the type I’d stay in for a year or two. Could have been a good place to rest. Too bad someone is too hard working.”

“Still with the passive aggressive phase?”

Hild smirked, “A kid that I trained a year ago was asking if being a Breaker or a super hitman was fun. I kill people for a living, but most of the time they are beyond the expiry date. Proto-mutants, biological bombs waiting to create a problem. The thing about this job is that we don’t get to pick the targets. Are they good guys? Bad guys? No, most of the time they are quite decent, just doing what they need to do.”

“And your point?”

“Nothing. Just came to mind seeing that we’re done with the job here. I expected it to be longer, then again, you weren’t really being merciful to them. I guess all the paperwork, being a stooge for others, haven’t chipped you.”

“Again, what is your point?”

“Just chatting. Geez, why are you so annoyed?”

Gaston snorted. He leaned back and then closed his eyes. “Going back to headhunting after this?”

“I’m quite rich. Might take me four years or so to spend all this cash.”

“Yes or no?”

“You’re not fun at all. I’m going to train some trainees. I got a lot of people that find my shooting skills worth hiring. Going to talk to students, have them shoot stationary and non-stationary targets. Easy life. But for now I’m considering going to a quiet country to hang around, and spend my money.”

“Good for you.”

“You should have earned a lot from this. Are you still saving up? I don’t get this fascination of yours with the red planet. I mean, it is quite beautiful, but it isn’t home you know?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Hild leaned forward. “This confuses me sometimes. I don’t get it. Why do you want to get off this planet so much?”

“I just want to.”

“Do you? Before you became like this. You were always so eager. You weren’t like this before the Golden Gate incident.”

Gaston glared. Hild saw that look and shrugged her shoulders.

“I get the idea. Anyway, I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Then go.”

“Rude. Anyway, this safehouse is one of the gifts Sir Mortimer gave us, so feel free to stay around.”

And with that she got herself off the living room, dressed up, and left with her luggage. Alone in the apartment, Gaston stared at the ceiling. He closed his eyes. He felt the air change. The world, becoming fleshy and squishy.

Opening his eyes he was back in that moment.

That fleshy sky.

A mountain corralled with biomass towers and nests..

Caves of flesh cocoons and a prairie of biomass structures.

It was a place where the monsters rule.