– D A Z Z –

My brother stared me down in that insufferable silence of his. A blade flicked between his scarred hands as we didn't break the standoff over the thick glass table.

"You wouldn't even admit it if you attempted to kill her." He cut through the silence with cold dark, grey eyes.

My jaw tightened and I drummed my fingers through fingerless gloves on the shining surface.

"It wouldn't even occur to you what you almost cost us–cost me." He uttered in a deep timbre.

"Yes it was always about your goals–your future wasn't it?" I quipped watching the blade stop in his hand. "They'd roll in their graves if they could see you now."

"Why are you still trying to pry open a reaction from me?" He growled, knowing full well I referred to our long dead, dear old parents.

"Because you make ridiculous statements like that. What does it possibly gain me to kill the leader of Division 52?" I demanded, pressing my palms to the table and blowing a strand of electric blue hair out my face.

"That was an Imperial grade shuttle they don't just malfunction to the point of crash landing. It wasn't even going to be a landing. The ship disintegrated at that speed–"

"You think I don't know exactly what speed that shuttle was going? Precisely what velocity, distance and weight that shuttle was?" I snapped through his words. He glared. "I'm not going to apologise for the fact that your precious leader was almost killed by her own idea. Her own ego seems to do that quite a lot." I snorted as I leaned back into the office chair.

The clouded glass around us hid us from the outside eyes of her henchmen prowling around in too much red and black. Bottom feeders with too many guns.

Instead of the rage I expected in response, he swiped a hand across the glass table. The holo screen glowed to blue life before him–using an admirable security protocol that may cause me to break a sweat for a few minutes–if I wanted access. He wordlessly moved his heavy hand across the glass until numbers flashed before me in large number, in the form of accounts, the form of credits...

"I was debating whether or not I should simply forge your identification and take it for myself." I said flatly as the money poured into my account.

With another swipe it melted away and became nothing more than a thick glass desk. He looked up at me and set his elbows upon it, bridging those thick, damaged fingers before him. The lives those hands had taken... I suppose my own had as much red but through digital means.

"I have nothing more to say to you." He murmured.

I rolled my eyes and stood. "Then I guess we're ending things on familiar terms, brother."

"You never make it easy." He said in a low voice.

I ignored the jab and moved to the glass set of doors in the sleek office space. He remained in his seat, in no effort to make our conversation last as usual. But I turned my head on my shoulder before the threshold.

"Don't ever accuse me again, Proximo."

I didn't give him a chance to retort. I doubt he would make the effort unless his golden eyed superior asked it of him. The doors slid shut behind me and I shook my head at the idea.

I stalked quickly away from the laughable amount of staff she employed to oversee the digital presence and surveillance of Division 52. I could do the work of thirty technicians with the simple swipe of the hand and army of algorithms I had in my vaults.

A craft waited already for my leave. I leapt in without hesitation and passed my destination of Sector 35 to the driver. A predictable route, a known one to my brother... I would let nothing seem out of place tonight.

It did not take long. As if the driver had been credited to deposit me as quickly as possible. The thought only made me smile. I stepped out into the rain the moment we were within stepping distance to the sidewalk. The craft hummed before bursting off to life and flying back towards the death cult known as the Division.

I pulled a thick black hood over my head and walked straight into the apartment block. I took the stairs two at a time and threw my door open after scanning a half assed identity band across the touchpad. I didn't waste a second. I pulled the blue wig from my head and dropped the nano skin tattoo running along my collarbones. One that had always annoyed Proximo for its easily identifiable nature... one he never even guessed was fake.

My true, shoulder length black hair dropped down in light curls and I shook it. That was the best part about people thinking you were so identifiable...

The moment you suddenly weren't.

My black hood was replaced by a torn and ragged cloak. I fitted my torso with several knives and daggers. Then holstered the twin chrome fusion pistols at my sides. There was nothing more deadly than underestimation. Something my brother claimed he never did. Said he saw through all. But he never saw his own shadow, the sibling that had always sat inside it.

The final touch were the intricate and flawless green iris lenses I used to replace my grey.

I pulled the thick hood over my head but was sure to let the black hair flow out. I swiped my wrist and altered the street cameras to play a feedback loop for the next few minutes. By that point it would be too late to know I was far from Sector 35.

The simple, black craft waited for me when I left the apartment. I stepped in and shut the door quickly.

"You're early." A voice noted in calm surprise.

I turned to the figure shrouded in darkness. "I wasn't too keen on lingering in 52's new digs. The inflated self importance in that place is suffocating."

A deep dark laugh filled the craft as we ascended.

"You always did have a deliciously refined hatred of the Underworld's finest." He drawled in thick irony.

"And you the vision to unseat them." I snorted as I eyed his well built stature and physique. He had always seemed more god-like than man. His agendas were enough to match at times. "You took a huge risk going back to him you know. Any other Imperial soldier and it wouldn't have been a blank round." I murmured as I watched him draw back his midnight hood.

His purple eyes danced in humour below his intricately tattooed face.

"Dancing with death is in my name." Hades growled as he leant forward to me in all his glory.

"And apparently so is it in Scorpion's." I almost growled back.

He raised a carved eyebrow at me. "So she escaped the shuttle?"

"With seconds to spare. Forgive me... I underestimated her capacity for improvisation." I told him quietly.

But a smile tugged on his beautiful features. "Fear not. She is out of the picture with dear Miss Xavier. It is the Silver Sun we focus on now."

"But the Division?" I urged him with a frown. "They are vulnerable, I have information, the location of their base of op–"

"Patience my dear." He rumbled with a dark grin. "The Silver Sun are an asset to us. We acquire their people, their weapons and we have a stance against the Underworld."

My mind came to the realisation I knew he had already come to. "The satellite weaponry." I murmured in a daze.

He nodded slowly with a predatory smile. "Now you're thinking ambitiously enough."

"No anti-air could counter a beam from space." I grunted, there would be scattered remains from the rubble of that. If that. "What do you need from me?" I asked as I leant forward on my knees and never broke his violet gaze.

He moved forward too and collected my smaller hands in his as my bones heated.

"In good time, access to the Imperial satellites and you will have your war, Dazz." He told me with more promise in his eyes than the gods ever gave me.

I tightened our hands between us.