The next morning, Vincent and his friends—minus Zander—arrived at the front door of Archard’s manor. It was a bit chilly, and the wind didn’t help warm the air up at all. There was some dew that clung to the hanging plants on the balcony, occasionally dripping down on Vincent’s head.

Fang walked up to the front door and knocked. A few seconds passed and one of the doors partially opened. The silhouette of Lawrence appeared in that crack and looked at the group. His expression was a groggy one, but it lit up the moment his eyes recognized Fang and the group.

“Oh, it’s you guys,” Lawrence said. “Come in. Come in.”

He ushered them through the familiar house and into Archard’s office, where they were met by the godfather, himself, and Larry. Lawrence then made his way out of the room and shut the door behind him.

Looking at the men in the room, there was an obvious distinction between them. Archard was sitting at his desk, drinking a cup of coffee, while reading what looked to be a notebook. Larry, on the other hand, was standing towards the back of the room, looking intently at the group.

Looking up from his reading, Archard said, “Ah, welcome.” He then opened a draw and carefully placed that notebook in it. “I take it that you’re ready for your first assignment?”

Vincent looked at his friends and said, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Excellent!” Archard replied, standing up from his desk. “Now, for this mission, I would like you, Vincent, and Larry to go meet up with a trusted informant of mine.” He then walked up to Larry and handed him a slip of paper. “It’s a relatively simple and harmless task, but one that I would like two people to do…just in case.”

“What about us?” Fang asked, gesturing towards them and Eliot. “We would be more than happy to accompany them.”

“No, no,” Archard said, “I need you here. There’s something I need to…” he stopped for a second, “...talk to you about.”

“But, Archard I—” Fang tried to argue.

“Fang,” Archard sternly said, “that is final.”

Silently, with disapproval on their face, Fang nodded and backed up a couple of steps.

Eliot then shyly stepped up and asked, “And what about me?”

“Oh, um, I would like to send you to Paulette’s—she may have something for you to do,” Archard answered. “You are a Resonator, right?”

Eliot hesitated for a second. “Um, yes,” he answered.

“Good, good,” Archard said. “Go downstairs and tell Lawrence to take you to Paulette’s.”

“Ok,” Eliot said, walking out of the room.

The moment Eliot closed the door behind him, Archard clasped his hands and said, “Now, let’s get down to the mission at hand. Vincent, I'm going to send you and Larry to go to a trusted informant of mine and come back with the information—I’ve already given Larry the location. Are you ready?”

“For sure,” Vincent replied. “Let’s go.”

Larry walked up to and past Vincent. In the brief window of time when their bodies were directly next to each other, there was a moment in which time stopped. Both of their eyes met, locked, and moved on. In the moment, a slight chill was sent down Vincent’s body, from the top of his skull to the bottom of his feet.

Even so, he decided to follow the mysterious man and begin his mission. The pair walked out of the building and into the heart of the city. It was a deafeningly silent walk as they made their way through thoroughfares, alleyways, and the occasional highway. Each step of theirs seemed to echo off of the open air, almost like the tenseness of the atmosphere caused the air itself to become more dense.

Throughout that trek, Vincent had noticed that Larry never walked in front or behind him—he was always at pace. Also, the eyes of the mob man never went out of focus, even when his head slightly, but constantly swiveled. That, in addition to the fact that his hands were always in his pockets, gave off a casual, yet careful confidence. Unlike the empty, grey, boring city before him, Vincent was enthralled with the contradiction that walked beside him.

“So what do you do?” Vincent asked, breaking the silence. “What are you all about?”

Larry did not respond. In fact, his sight never even made it to Vincent—it continued to look ahead. Annoyed, Vincent began to prod even further.

“Come oooooonnnn,” Vincent said.

Still, Larry remained unresponsive.

“Dude,” Vincent said, “give me somethin’ here.”

Larry stopped, causing Vincent to halt, too. Without even looking at him, Larry said, “Lemme give you a piece of advice, then: don’t talk unless you’re told to, alright?”

Vincent frowned and flipped him off. That being said, he complied with the notion—for a limited time—and remained quiet.

For the next hour, the two of them wandered the city, sometimes taking the most absurd paths. There were times when they would enter into a mostly empty building, like an abandoned clothing store, go to an upper floor, then go back down and out the same door they entered. And that was just one example of the strange things that Larry did.

Eventually, as they turned into an alleyway, Vincent noticed that they passed a person—a rarity within the city. He barely caught the fact that the man’s eyes slightly looked at them, but then continued to look ahead. While Vincent didn’t think anything of it, he noticed it nonetheless.

Larry and Vincent then walked down the alley. After getting a dozen or so feet in, Larry pulled something out of his pocket. It looked to be a tiny sack of some sort that moved as though there was a powdery or liquid substance within it—it couldn’t have been more than an inch wide. With one swift, nonchalant movement, he stuck the pouch on the wall to his left.

“What are you—” Vincent started to ask.

Before he could even finish, Larry slammed his hand in front of Vincent’s face, silencing him. Larry then looked at Vincent, and with an ice cold stare, he sternly said, “What did I tell you?”

Moving the hand off of his face, Vincent furled his eyebrows and replied, saying, “Why are you such an ass?”

Larry narrowed his eyes and waited a second before responding. “Stop asking questions—it’s better that you don’t know any of the answers. Knowledge is power in this world, but it can also be a detriment. Just listen to me and do what I tell you to do.”

Taking offense to that, Vincent replied, “Why should I? You haven’t given me a reason to listen to ya.”

“I shouldn’t need to,” Larry sighed.

“Yes, you do.”

Rolling his eyes and grinding his teeth together, Larry said, “Fine.” He then leaned in close to Vincent. “If you keep talking and doing things on your own, you will get us killed. Got it, kid?”

“Well—”

“Shush. Just trust me this one time, alright? Nod your head if you can do that.”

Vincent frowned and slowly nodded his head.

“Good,” Larry said. He continued to walk down the alleyway with both of his hands in his pocket.

Eventually, the two of them arrived at an old house that was crammed next to a few others right at the end of the twisting alleys. A couple of the windows were shattered, propped up by some wood and cardboard behind them. The wooden front door was starting to splinter in places, but it seemed securely shut. As they walked up to the house, the stairs leading up to the door creaked under the slightest bit of weight.

Just as they approached the door, Vincent felt the most minute sensation. In the back of his head, he felt the slightest bit of nausea breeze through and leave as quick as it came. It was like the quick scent of a nostalgic smell, gone before you even had time to process it.

“Five,” Larry said under his breath, seemingly to no one.

Larry then knocked on the door once, waited for a few seconds, then knocked on it again. After about a minute of waiting outside, Larry looked around and then back at the door. He placed the back of his hand on the doorknob, nodded to himself, and then turned it.

As he opened the door, he motioned for Vincent to stand on the other side. The hinges moaned as the door slowly swung open. The lightless interior was partially illuminated by the noon-lighting of the outside, creating a narrow path of sorts that led straight into and through the house.

The inside of the generic-looking building had a lot of dust that was visible when it crossed into the beam of light. After taking a step inside, the darkened interior was motionless. The first room that they stepped into was large and open, with wooden beams across the exposed ceiling. Any furniture that was in there was either old, worn out, or covered in plastic wrapping. There were a couple of areas in the room that were blocked from sight, placed around some short walls. Towards the back was a single staircase that climbed upwards into god-knows where. In terms of other rooms, there seemed to be some, but they were at the ends of longer corridors.

Vincent began to strut into the room at his usual pace, but was stopped when Larry held a hand out in front of him. Rather than audibly protest, Vincent remained silent and just looked back at the spindly man. Larry’s eyes were intense, but it was not an intensity like a raging inferno. No, it was much more akin to a ravaging blizzard—cold, calculated, and cautiously cruel. Snow, on its own, is wonderful and beautiful, and gently falls to where it needs to go. However, when enough is gathered in one place, focused and pushed along by the wind, it can smother any other presence beneath it.

Gingerly, Larry led the two into the building, slowly closing the door, but not completely, leaving a small gap between the doorframe and the door. It was too small for a noticeable amount of light to pour through, but large enough that Vincent barely saw it. As those two entered the room, Larry’s eyes shifted all throughout the room, seemingly clocking everything there was to see. From the cobwebs in every ceiling corner, to the smallest cracks in the walls, Larry saw it all.

Without words, Larry gestured for Vincent to follow him. Vincent obliged and inched along, slowly walking through the room. Each step he took on the wooden floor was rickety and it always was followed by some sort of noise. Eventually, they made it to the stairs in the back that led up to a landing that was positioned in a way that made it impossible to see what was on the floor above. Even still, they climbed and made their way to the next floor.

Waiting for them at the top of the stairs was a single, spacious room. There was nothing but dust, a couple wooden beams, a single rocking chair and cardboard boxes. Towards the back of the room was a single window that led down into the alley below. However, the one thing that immediately jumped out about the room was not the room itself, but what was waiting for them in it.

In that room, sitting in the wooden rocking chair, surrounded by cardboard boxes, was a man. He had shorter, blonde hair with long bangs that swished to one side. His face was a bit plump, and his body wasn’t fat, but it also had a slight bit of rotundness to it that was more obvious while he sat down. At first glance, the man looked to be in his early twenties, but after looking at his slightly weathered face, Vincent could tell that he had to be at least in his forties. His “hip” attire, his hair style, and the way he carried himself seemed to be an act to make himself look much younger than he was.

Just as Vincent and Larry crested the second floor’s horizon, stepping past the last step, the blonde man began to speak.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here,” he said, pushing his hair out his eyes.

“Who are you?” Larry asked.

“A friend,” the man casually responded, resting his hands on the arms of the chair, “and a scale.”

Vincent saw Larry’s eyes narrow and gaze intently at the man. When he followed Larry’s line of sight, however, it wasn’t directly at the man. While his eyes seemed to be set on the man, somehow, Vincent could tell that Larry’s focus was on something next to the man.

“What do ya got for us?” Larry asked, hands still in his pockets.

“Exactly what Archard ordered,” the man replied, rocking in the noisy chair. “I got something for you.” His gaze then shifted towards Vincent. “But I don’t think I’ve seen you before, kid.”

“I’m new,” Vincent hesitantly responded.

“Oh really?” the man said. “And what do you do?”

“I’m a res—”

But before he could finish, he saw the dagger-like eyes of Larry piercing him. A thought entered his mind that told him not to continue what he was saying. He was reminded of what Larry told him.

“I’m a fighter,” Vincent finished saying before shutting up.

Rubbing his hands on his chin, the blonde man said, “Hmmm, I see. Well, seeing as this ain’t your, uh, purview, why don’t you go wait downstairs while us men get down to business.”

Just as Vincent started to move back down the stairs, he felt his arm get grabbed by Larry, who adamantly said, “No, you’ll stay here.”

Listening to the command, Vincent remained in place.

Sighing, the blonde man said, “If that’s how it’s gonna be, well alright then.” He then leaned to his right, resting both hands on that chair’s arm, leaving his right arm to dangle off the chair a bit. Shifting his attention back to Larry, he said, “And about what Archard ordered, I got it. I’ll give it to you fast and just like I promised. After all, I know who you are.”

“What do you know?” Larry asked, his eyes narrowing even further than before.

“That you’re THE Lucky Larry—the greatest relayer in Libra. There ain’t ever been a situation you haven’t gotten out of. You always come back with the goods. I would expect no one less to come receive what the godfather ordered.”

Larry just silently looked at the man.

Continuing on his speech, the blonde man said with a twisted smile, “But I know you’re more than that. I know what you’ve done. I know who you really are. And because of that,” he said, slightly moving his hand towards the inside of the cardboard box on his right, “let me get you what you came here for.”

With a motion faster than the blink of an eye, a shot rang out throughout the space. Vincent’s adrenaline immediately spiked and he lowered himself into a colder place, instinctually. He saw Larry with both hands out of his pocket, holding a small pistol-like gun in his left hand. When Vincent's gaze made its way towards the blonde man, he saw that the man was motionless, with a bullet wound in his head. The man’s chair continued to rock back and then forward, dumping the man off of it, causing his corpse to slump on the ground.

“What did you do!?” Vincent yelled.

“Look down,” Larry said, oddly calm.

Snapping his attention towards the ground, Vincent saw a revolver laying on the ground next to the blonde man’s right hand.

“Wha…” was all Vincent could get out. He took a second to let his brain function again, stepping a couple feet away from the body. “What just happened?”

Kneeling down towards the corpse and pulling the collar down on the blonde man’s body, Larry looked at the man’s neck, which was obscured from Vincent’s point of view. He then said, “Betrayals are more common than you think.”

“Wait, did you…”

“Like I said, stop asking questions.” Larry then stood up. “This man tried to kill me, plain and simple.”

It was at this time that shuffling and the movement of multiple pairs of feet could be heard coming from the bottom floor. And it was getting louder.

Turning around towards Vincent, Larry asked, “Are you ready to go?”

“Go!?” Vincent exclaimed. “Go where?”

“To Archard’s, of course,” Larry replied. “We got a betrayal to report.”

A bit of the tense weight that was on Vincent’s shoulder was released upon hearing those words.

“Alright,” Vincent said, “so how do we get outta here?”

“Well, there are three exits downstairs—two windows and the door—but those are obviously outta the equation. That leaves us with looking for a way out up here. And the only exit up here is—”

“The window,” they both said at the same time.

Hurried feet were starting to make their way up the stairs.

Larry pulled out his gun, pointed it at the window, and said, “We ain’t got any time, so let’s blow this thing open.”

“Wait,” Vincent said, placing his hand on Larry’s shoulder, “let me handle this.”

He then ran up to the window, lowered himself into a colder place, and unleashed a starbreaker directly on it. The glass shattered outwards, and the wooden wall cracked. As he disapirated the void, there was now a round hole where the window once was.

“Let’s go!” Vincent yelled back at Larry as he jumped out of the hole.

As he landed in the alley, he felt a slight pain in his ankles. He then immediately started running in a random direction. Following suit, Larry fell to the ground, but rolled as he landed in order to minimize the damage done from falling from such a height.

Catching up to Vincent, Larry said, “Go left, take two rights, and then straight until we reach the streets. After that, follow me.”

As he said that, Vincent looked behind him and saw a few figures come from around the corner and into the alley.

“Shit,” Larry said.

As the two of them ran through the twisting alleys, they were followed by chasing mobsters. The sound of somewhat distant gunfire could be heard every other second, followed by the sparking bursts of bullets against a stone wall. Eventually, they reached a fork in the alleys, and emerging from both sides, were groups of mobsters.

“Shit,” Larry said, pulling out his pistol.

Without hesitation, Vincent jumped in front of him and ran towards the mobsters, headstrong. Just as the rest of the mobsters started to pull their guns out, Vincent used godspeed to close the distance in the matter of a second. Before the mobsters couple even react, Vincent unleashed a flurry of starbreakers, flinging them all against the alley walls. Each and every one of them was unconscious.

“Huh,” Larry said, putting his gun away and walking up to Vincent. “You really do have powers.”

“I told ya,” Vincent replied. “I’m pretty strong too.”

“I guess…”

They then continued to run towards their destination. Just as the light of the open streets ahead began to make itself known, a shadowy figure blocked some of that light. Another, larger, mobster with a spiked bat started to run at Vincent and Larry. Right behind that guy, was a group of three more mobsters with guns.

Just as Vincent began to prepare to attack, Larry put his hand on Vincent’s shoulder and said, “Lemme handle it this time.” He then pulled out his pistol and aimed it towards the wall next to the approaching enemies.

It was at that moment that Vincent realized that they were in a familiar alley. As Larry pulled the trigger, Vincent saw what he was truly aiming at: the small pouch stuck to the wall. The moment that the bullet collided with the pouch, it exploded, engulfing the entire group of mobsters.

“Run! Now!” Larry shouted, sprinting into the dust after the explosion. Vincent immediately followed him.

Jumping over the unmoving bodies on the ground, the both of them made it to the streets. There were no signs of people or struggle, but Vincent knew that it was only a matter of time.

“What now?” Vincent asked. “Do we just run all the way to Archard’s?”

“No,” Larry said, catching a little bit of his breath, “I already had a plan for this.” He then pointed at a parking lot near a clothing store. There were a few cars parked there, along with a few bikes. “On the other side of the store, there’s another lot with a black car. That’s the goal.”

And so, they ran with all their might towards the glass-covered building, hurriedly making their way through it. They burst through multiple clothing racks, scattering shirts and shorts on the ground, and slammed through many doors. Eventually, they arrived in the back parking lot. And just like Larry stated, there was indeed a black car parked there with tinted windows.

Larry opened the fuel cap, grabbed a key that was within it, and looked at Vincent. “The hell are you doing? Get in!” he said.

Both of them got in the car, with Larry in the driver’s seat. He started to the car and took off with an immense speed. The screech and squeal of burning rubber against the road was more than audible. Fortunately for the both of them, not a single gunshot was fired at them while they drove.

A few minutes into the drive, when there seemed to be a semblance of peace, Vincent asked, “So did you plan all of this?”

“Not quite,” Larry answered, still looking at the road, “but I always plan for whatever comes my way.”

Vincent turned his head a bit. “Really?”

“Always. I always know how many exits I have at all times, just in case I need to get out of there quickly.” He casually ran a red light and turned left. “And that’s why I placed that small pouch on the wall—just in case I had to run and I was being chased."

“And the car?” Vincent asked.

“That’s been here. I cased the surrounding two blocks after Archard told me the location yesterday. I figured that this was the most inconspicuous place to place a getaway car, just in case I needed one.”

Vincent was in awe that someone could plan so much. In his mind, Larry’s ability to think about the future was almost on par with Zander, and he had never met someone who was even close to Zander’s level.

With partially starstruck eyes, Vincent asked, “Did you know this was gonna happen? Can you see the future?”

“No, of course not—I can’t see the future. But, lemme give ya another piece of advice.” Larry turned and looked Vincent in the eyes. “You can never be too careful.”