Ask twenty different heroes what made the Underworld so dangerous, and you'd get twenty different answers. Ask a hundred villains, and they would tell you the same exact thing.

It was the crossroads of desire.

Though the exact mechanism behind Waking was unknown, people have long since noticed certain patterns and similarities among those who became cowled. To gain a power, one needed both the desire to change the world and the intent to follow through. Academics called it an Impulse. It manifested in every powered from the moment they Woke – a rush of desire, one so powerful it could hollow you out and leave an empty shell if left unchecked. Villains were those who remained true to themselves, who harnessed the Impulse and used it to drive themselves forward, to pursue their initial wish to the point many called them obsessed. Heroes were those who flinched. Who grew frightened by the strength of their desire, who stepped back and chose the rule of law over their personal beliefs.

Underworld was the crucible of villainy.

It was the place where every cloak ended up sooner or later, testing their convictions, pitting their will and skill against other cloaks without the protection of law or limitations of the Great Game. It was a place where obsessions ran rampant and every plan inevitably spun out of control.

Underworld was the place where each villain tested just how far they're willing to go.

***

“And then what?”

In my state of hyperawareness seconds seemed like hours. I could feel every gust of wind from the air conditioning system, see the slightest discolorations on the opposing wall, smell the scent of my own sweat, but I was all too aware that I would never hear the shot that ends my life.

“What happens after you kill me, Andreas?”

There was a shuffle behind my back, but I dared not turn around.

“You know who I am,” Kirin stated.

I nodded cautiously.

“Andreas Vera. The first and only person to escape the Morrower.”

Morrower was the colloquial name for Variative Cryogenic Containment facility, born from the saying: 'never do today what you can put off till tomorrow'. It was the final destination for the worst of the villains and commonly considered one of the largest failures of the current government. VCC was a tacit acknowledgement that the governance was incapable of enforcing its own laws, unable to safely intern powered prisoners and forced to keep them on ice – granted, it was supertech magical ice – until such a method was devised. The Morrower was reserved for the worst of the worst, real monsters, people whose sentence exceeded their natural lifespan.

So it was a rather big deal when somebody managed to escape from it.

“All the less reason to keep you alive.”

I shook my head.

“I know more than that, Andreas. I know you were an operative for the Cowl Suppression Force. One of the best, with mission count in triple digits. Your file has almost as many commendations as censored sections. I also know about your family.”

Kirin's breath hitched for a second.

Even without the reminder, I knew that I had to tread lightly.

“Your wife and six-year old son, ritualistically murdered in their own home. The killer was never found. You attempted to investigate on your own, but were suspended – because you were emotionally invested and because it was out of your jurisdiction. So you went off the reservation, vigilante-style, leaving a trail of bodies behind in your search for truth. In the end, though... You failed.”

I paused, hoping I was not about to get a new opening in the back of my head.

“Fortunately or not, you were captured by law enforcement rather than one of the many, many people you've crossed. I don't know the details of what happened afterwards – I suspect you knew too much about CSF's inner workings to risk a regular prison – but in a closed court session the decision was made to place you in enforced cryogenic sleep. That's how you became Morrower's sole non-powered inmate.”

“Is this going somewhere?” Kirin asked, impatience coloring his tone. “Because I have yet to hear a single reason to keep you alive.”

I turned around, staring at him directly.

“So you've given up on finding your family's killer?”

Kirin's full body flinch was the strongest reaction I've seen from the man.

“Because you were frozen for two years,” I continued. “Any leads that you've had are long lost to time. Say you kill me... What next? You have nothing left. Are you really the kind of a man who's content to spend his remaining years at the bottom of the Underworld, constantly looking over his shoulder, with no goals beyond immediate survival?”

“Appeal to pride?” he noted, pulling himself together. “You really are scraping the bottom of the barrel.”

“Oh, no,” I shook my head. “I'm trying to hire you.”

Kirin's startled blink would have been open-mouthed astonishment on any other man.

“Hire me,” he repeated dubiously.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I have the resources, capital and connections necessary to continue your quest. An unscrupulous doctor, one who wouldn't ask too many questions, to make your face utterly unrecognizable to any pursuers. An arms dealer or two to provide all the weaponry you might need. A stable source of income so you don't have to rely on sketchy deals from the likes of Honest Men to feed yourself. I'll take care of all the details – you can concentrate on the hunt.”

“And in return?” he asked sceptically.

I shrugged.

“I find myself in need of a bodyguard.”

Kirin lowered the gun, but did not look convinced.

One final push, then.

“We work well together, don't you think?”

A sharp intake of breath. I could see the exact moment it dawned on him.

“Our meeting... It was not a coincidence, was it?” he asked slowly.

I smiled with just the right amount of self-deprecation to avoid looking as if I was bragging.

“One of my connections noticed you two days ago. The rest was simply a matter of observation and planning.”

I was being somewhat facetious here. I still didn't know what initially spooked Kirin – or whether he was simply paranoid enough to avoid staying in a single place for even thirty minutes – but his early departure scrambled my plans, and I had to improvise. Instead of being my trump card, the explosives I've laid across the Grand Pyramid were reduced to an opening act, a spark to kickstart the attack. Marchioness moved to protect her territory, and the invaders were forced to act before they were ready or deal with a fortified and prepared defense.

Even that turned complicated when Resonant stalled us to the point I lost sight of Andreas. As a result, I had to approximate his position, ad lib the recruitment speech, and I wasn't even going to go into the nascent Incursion...

“You organized the attack.”

“Organize?” I shook my head ruefully. “While flattering, something like that is far beyond my capabilities. No, like any self-respecting villain, I took advantage of the chaos to further my own goals.”

“And your friend?”

With the original plan gone entirely off the rails, I needed a new cause to recruit Kirin to. Rescue operations were something the former CSF operative was distinctly familiar with, and they left behind a warm, fuzzy feeling of doing a good deed – something for Andreas to subconsciously associate me with.

Blythe just happened to be close at hand.

“He thought he saw me moving in another direction,” I shrugged. “Happens to the best of us.”

“You deliberately let him get captured.”

“I had faith in his ability to last several hours without my company.”

Kirin's eyebrows turned down by a fraction of a degree. On any other it would have probably been a glare.

“If I was still on the Force, I wouldn't want someone like you as my superior.”

“But you're not,” I observed. “When working for a villain, you don't want them to be good. You want them to be competent.”

“And are you?” he asked. “Competent?”

“I think the results speak for themselves,” I replied. “Here we are, you and me, with you about to accept my offer.”

“Confident.”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Yes, I am.”

I was not a natural leader. Not like some of the people I knew over the course of my life. Everything I did, I did deliberately, using lessons learned from years of observation and imitation, trial and error.

That's how I knew that I had him.

“I'm not telling you how I escaped from the Morrower.”

I grimaced. Disappointing, but not unexpected.

“Your plots will not get in my way,” he warned me. “And I want any information you find on Cults of the Helpless God.”

“Reasonable,” I nodded.

I extended my hand.

“Partners?”

After what felt like an eternity, Andreas reached out and grabbed it.

Now that felt like a victory.

***

It was only later, as we sat hashing out schedules and meeting spots, that he asked the question I've been postponing until I've secured his allegiance.

“Your plans are... extensive. What is the endpoint of all this? What's your ambition?”

I moved toward the open part of the balcony, leaning on the railing. The Hall was dim, but people were slowly starting to trickle in, bringing with them various sources of light.

“Oh? I thought it was fairly obvious. It's only the most villainous ambition of all.”

Andreas shuffled behind my back, not quite restless.

I grinned.

“I want to rule the world.”