In the Global Guards and in the Department of Domestic Defense, there was the International Agency of Homeworld Investigations. The act that had established the agency was numbered eight-hundred-fourteen, and you could recognize an agent of the international police by the blue-tie they almost always wore. These were the origins of their most common nicknames: the eight-fourteens, the blue-ties.

There were also other nicknames for them: assholes, literal demon-spawn, heartless bastards, and the rest were remixes of clever insults and anger-filled swears. Every Slayer’s worst nightmare was being investigated by the eight-fourteens; they were the hounds of the Global Guards, given the extraordinary power to chase after anyone or anything suspected of violating obtuse international law. Heck, anything tangentially related to worldly security was fair game in their eyes.

Nathan over his career had witnessed the agency gain greater powers and jurisdictions. He heard many horror stories. Some were well-deserved justice, others not so much. Duskfire was one such example. While not involving the eight-fourteens specifically, the Department of Domestic Defense had found him and forced him to pick: Otherguards or a Black Order from the Anomalous Entities Bureau. Other stories involved Slayers who’d erased every molecule of evidence pointing to their crimes, geniuses who could outsmart even God, and the most secretive and paranoid of people hiding from law’s hammer. All of them were caught and arrested and prosecuted to the fullest extent.

There were also cases of abuse, and for legal purposes these were rumors and hearsay, unreflective of Nathan’s opinion regarding the International Agency. Targeted by officials high in the ladder, victims suffered unjust prosecutions; innocent Slayers harassed endlessly and intimidated by hard investigations; all enabled by the courts who had a keener interest in protecting the Guards’ wishes than protecting the sanctity of justice. Then, there were stories diving deep into conspiracy: possessing the power of Apocalyptic designations, they’d used it on journalists and whistleblowers attempting to shed light on skeletons deep in the Guards’ closet. Because Apocalyptics were no longer considered ‘human’ in the eyes of the law, anything could happen to them.

Anything.

The eight-fourteens were an iceberg of secrets, most hidden beneath the water's surface of commonly-thought civility.

They were hated and feared. Ruthless. They had some of the most skilled investigators in the world. You could drop a grain of sand on the beach and they’d find it. A child could cry and they wouldn’t care at all. A perfect match, then, against a world filled with men and women capable of launching war against a nation by themselves.

You had to be a cold person, Nathan figured, to survive prosecuting some of the world’s strongest.

Him, Sera, and Kashan had split up to ensure their other interests were secure. Sera was with Problem protecting their goods, and Kashan had called Aiden to return to the Hospital to protect Chie and Alexander in case the Anomalies had caught wind of their location.

So Nathan was left with the most dangerous mission of the entire Disaster: surviving a confrontation with the bloodthirsty eight-fourteens, trying (and probably dying) to rescue his Baptists from their questioning.

He serenely strode into Eden Center wearing his full [Compound Myth Armor], the traffic lights above reflecting off his polished armor. His natural senses had already detected numerous units hidden in the buildings. He could hear their hushed voices, speaking clinically into their radios as though they’d spotted a dog on the road.

The street had a chilling quiet that unsettled him greatly. The shadows were whispering and there was no hint of life other than the active facility down the road just a few blocks away. Along his path he faced monsters in the dark, leaning against the walls, smoking and checking their phones, leering and glaring and staring at the SSS-Rank Slayer in fits of curiosity, interest, disgust, and sheer hatred. They wanted him to know they were watching; he made no effort to be hidden.

Their current hideout had belonged to the Ordoian government: Eden Center Artisan Workshop, which was now handed off to the blue-ties for their own operations throughout the reconstruction. It was a fairly large property with high gates and only one entrance, surrounded by tall buildings. Made it easy to defend.

Waiting at the entrance, right underneath the peeking roof of the security booth there, was a familiar face enjoying a pleasant drag in the tranquil March night. A skinny middle-aged man with a scar down his left cheek. His dark hair almost completely blended into the night, and his pale skin made him look vampiric in a way. Dim ocean midnight eyes snapped towards Nathan, and he didn’t seem to give a damn.

Senior Agent Murke, Systemic Criminals Division and specifically the High Echelon Section. Meaning, it was his job to sniff out offenses committed by high-rankers from fraudsters to Apocalyptics. Understandably he was one of the most infamous agents for this reason as hundreds of his fellow blue-ties had the displeasure of collaborating with him.

“So you’ve drawn the short end of the stick, eh?” teased Senior Agent Murke of the before puffing out a ball of smoke. “I thought Rector would come, not the ex-founder of Angels Guild. Once you have wings, you can never forget ‘em, I suppose.”

“Where are they?” Nathan asked, grave and serious, standing a few feet from the smaller and weaker man.

Agent Murke cracked a smile and turned his head up. He took one long breath and puffed smoke straight into Nathan’s helmet. “You don’t need to pretend you’re tough around me, baby. We all know the man underneath the helmet—“

“The Baptists,” Nathan stated again.

Murke rolled his eyes and stood sideways towards him, looking down the adjacent sidewalk and seeing a few of his men there. One puff later, he said, “That’s what I despise the most about you high-rankers. Everyone is too afraid of looking at you the wrong way, everyone has to walk on eggshells, and you get to duck under every line of red tape you come across. So it really makes my day slowing your busy schedule by a few minutes.”

“Murke.”

The Agent cleared his throat and flicked his stump onto the ground, stomping it out. He spoke professionally, “I need your Baptists for this investigation. Officially-speaking, we can only detain them for a few days except for special circumstances.” In the dark, his lips split open to reveal cutting white teeth. “Since this investigation deals with a very serious charge in a city post-outbreak, can you get anything more special?”

Nathan stiffened. Even as Kosmos, he couldn’t waltz in and take his people back by force. It would literally mean declaring war against the Global Guards. A war he would lose. This was a plain threat from Senior Agent Murke and one he couldn’t retaliate against. An illegal threat probably, but his punishment at most would be a slap on the wrist and a whispered “Well done!” from his superiors.

“Your posse really likes making contracts, don’t they? It's a pain for our guys in Anomaly.” He began raising fingers. “You have: Firebrand with Phoenix-Ifrit, Gul with that water fairy, whatever you have going on, and Sage.”

A harsh breath of air hissed from the silts of Nathan’s helmet.

“According to a dozen witnesses so far, she has apparently awakened to a new power unrelated to her current set. Izanami-no-Mikoto, wasn’t it? We’re still cross-referencing our encounters with the goddess, but where we’re at? It’s all but confirmed. A human possessing divinity is definitely in our brothers’ jurisdiction.”

Threat after threat. Nathan kept breathing to steady his heart. The eight-fourteens wanted him to get emotional, to earn themselves an excuse to go harder. He mustn’t step a single foot into the compound or lay a finger on Murke; the best plan of action was to say and do nothing.

Taking his silence, then, Senior Agent Murke’s grin shrunk and he crossed his arms. “It’s only a matter of time before we unearth Conqueror’s secrets. We're investigating his uncle now but strangely we're finding hoards of classified intelligence. I don't believe you have anything...? No, okay, don't say I didn't ask. We’ve already spoken with Prominence and his Slayers; even soulless bastards like them protect their own. They didn’t say a single word. Then again, it might be because Prominence still holds a grudge against me after Oasisgate.”

I’m sure Alexander will be surprised hearing that when he wakes up. From what everyone says, he shares an unpleasant history with Oasis. “Anything else?” Nathan asked simply.

Murke’s head canted to the side slightly, attentive to his earpiece, and licked his lips. “No, nothing else. We have a couple new guests coming.”

Nathan could already hear their footsteps coming from the west. He peered over his shoulder and spotted two dark-skinned men approaching them. One had dark hair with crimson coming at the edges, and the other’s was charred red. They arrived wearing their Slayer [Loadouts], where the former had a typical magician’s robe where one sleeve was tied off while the other was equipped with heavy armor not dissimilar to Nathan’s.

Evenfall and Duskfire. Damien and Ignatius Fayer respectively.

“Kosmos,” Evenfall greeted him with a slight bow of his head, then did the same for the eight-fourteen.

“Fayers,” Nathan followed and locked eyes with the Chief Slayer in the group. “Senior Agent Murke has my Baptists detained here for questioning.”

Murke made no effort to defend himself and instead eyed Duskfire. “Why is the Chief Slayer of the American Alliance an ocean away from his territory? Dealing with matters irrelevant to him? Your masters might get mad.”

Duskfire showed a stable sign of frustration. “Are you officially arresting the Baptists here of a crime?”

The Agent, then, swiveled his head to Nathan. “Why is an American fighting your battles for you—?”

“It’s a negative,” Evenfall cut in with something of a proud smile. “Murke, isn’t it? You couldn’t get a lick of information out of my comrades, could you? You came in the middle of the night, took them by surprise, teleported them here, but their lips were tighter than a bank vault. You have nothing and you will continue to get nothing. What’s the point of keeping them here?”

Murke shrugged, unfazed from the young Slayer’s deductions. “It’s for their own protection. Ordo is in a dangerous state. Here? They’ll be safe from outside harm.” He laughed after saying that, like even he couldn’t believe his own words.

Facing two of the most powerful Slayers plus a Baptist, Senior Agent Murke reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He peeked inside and groaned, showing the empty contents to the men. “All out.” He crushed the box and tucked it back inside. “Okay then. Frances!”

One of the eight-fourteens nearby perked her head.

Murke ordered, “The Baptists overstayed their welcome. Bring them out to their daddies.”

Frances nodded and zipped past the front gates.

“It’ll take a while,” said the eight-fourteen. “Sit tight.”

It took forty-five minutes for them to bring out the Baptists. Even when conceding this battle, Murke took every opportunity he could get to inconvenience the tyrannical high-rankers with a mischevious grin. From the building’s entrance, Nathan saw his people shambling out haggardly, drowsy from lack of sleep and whatever conditions they were kept in.

Agent Murke smiled seeing them crawl out. “Enjoy them as much as you can, Kosmos. We’ll be talking together again real soon.”

For one final taunt, he patted Nathan’s back and gave the three men a quick finger-salute, then went into the compound whistling. He passed the escorted group of Baptists, each glaring at him in their own ways, but he cared not at all for their animosity. Their hate couldn’t compare to his.

Once they left the property’s boundaries, they were officially free. Quickly, they sped away from the site.

Evenfall noticed Gul was apart of the group. “I thought you were at OU, professor.”

Gul nodded, rubbing her eyes. “I was, but they nabbed me there. They told me they’d already detained my kids, so I had little choice but to follow.”

“They kept us all in separate rooms…” Uprise was hugging herself, doing her best to stay upright. From behind, Forest Master supported her. “They had people watching us so we couldn’t open the System and talk to you all. We couldn’t make a sound.”

“Yeah, I sneezed a couple times and they chewed the shit outta me,” Victor said while viciously scratching his head. “Anyway, I didn’t see High Dominion here. They caught ‘em too?”

Nathan told everyone, “No. They were alerted and kept themselves safe. Either that worked or the eight-fourteens didn’t come for them.”

“Mhm.” Evenfall put his only hand on a hip. “I can’t tell you how many messages Votary pestered me with. She’s more concerned about her own safety than the well-beings of the new friends she’d made.” He paused. “I’m joking, don’t take it seriously. She was and probably still is worried.”

“Tell her we’re fine,” told the Empress, keeping close to the Queen. Out of everyone in the group, she looked the worst. Between her current workload and this incident, the effects were taking a serious toll on her body.

The Queen added onto her statement: “Tell her we look like dogshit, but we’re alive. What’s our next move?”

Nathan gestured vaguely down the road. “I contacted Scrutiny—the Empress’s handler in Angels—and she has a couple SMVs in a Royals-owned site for you. You’ll be taken to your homes to rest, but prepare for a few long conversations when you wake up.”

“I would never imagine they would escalate this far…” Forest Master mumbled.

“That’s naïve,” Duskfire cut. “To you, this is a line drawn in the sand. To them, it’s the starting line. They knew getting information is unlikely; instead, this is a plain message: We are coming after you. From now on if not already, you’ll be constantly monitored by the eight-fourteens. You’ll probably be approached by them, cornered against a wall, whatever methods they invent to catch you slipping. Think of this as an active hunt, and you are the prey. When they receive ample evidence, then they might move against you and Seraph.”

“They wouldn’t think about crossing her, right?” Victor glanced at Nathan. “It’s basically fighting Kosmos himself.”

“One of the Guards’ main goals is to reduce Kosmos’s influence over the globe. While they would like to arrest Seraph, I’m not absolutely certain they will actually follow through but the chance is non-zero. Before the Disaster, it’d be an insane move. Now, though, when political balances have shifted across the board…” Duskfire grimaced. “Anything is possible.”

***

“Here will work,” Nathan told the Fayers as they entered one of the Angels’ offices near the area. Before either of them could speak, he searched deep in his [Inventory] and found a communication bubble device, then activated it. A soapy translucent sphere expanded outwards and engulfed the empty space.

Anyone outside the bubble wouldn’t be able to hear their conversations; knowing the eight-fourteens however, they definitely had workarounds but some defense was better than no defense.

Evenfall exhaled, letting out a breath he’d been keeping for a while inside his lungs it seemed. He fell onto one of the cushioned chairs and allowed himself to relax; most high-rankers wouldn’t think about loafing with Duskfire in the room. Though Evenfall was an exception among exceptions: his eldest son, a half-demon like him, and hunted by the eight-fourteens and the Anomalies.

Duskfire stood at one of the windows and frowned. The bubble also made it impossible to see clearly beyond its borders, obscured by the same soapy sight. Instead he drifted to the nearby shelf, reading the labels on the books and binders. “Agent Murke is correct about one thing: I’m out of my jurisdiction.”

Nathan stood near the door, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. “Does this mean you’ll be leaving Ordo soon?”

“Either voluntary or commanded,” the Chief Slayer replied. “I’m more chained to the Global Guards than my peers, if you care to remember. I have to obey unlike them.”

“I’m aware.”

Duskfire was in a convoluted position. He was technically under command of an agent at the Anomalous Entities Bureau, who effectively functioned as his parole officer, alongside that Cardinal (whose name escaped Nathan) from the Vatican. At the same time, he’d ascended to the role of Chief Slayer of the American Alliance; he was as autonomous as he was oppressed.

One of the few Otherguards who would obey their counterparts. Not willingly, but still.

“I’m sure they’ll force you to leave with Latham tomorrow or the next day. They need you gone if they want to move on Seraph,” Evenfall said. “Whatever protections you’ll provide me, it won’t matter.”

“I know. Which brings me to the central matter I came here to discuss.” Duskfire turned and faced Nathan; his demonic nature came at him like intense humidity in the air. Ever-present, uncomfortable, and ominous. “Your Baptists are technically enrolled in Angels Guild, yes?”

Evenfall reached into his robes and withdrew his ID card. “We received this first thing.” His eyes skimmed the text. “It’s a temporary ID until we’re officially processed in the system. The guild system.”

Duskfire followed, “A stopgap?”

His son affirmed with a nod.

“I see.” Duskfire softly smacked his lips together. “What are your intentions, then, Kosmos?”

Nathan didn’t quite get his point. “Elaborate.”

“What do you want from the Baptists? I’m no idiot; you have other plans for them, but I need reassurance that you’ll be able to protect my son from the Global Guards. Right now, he’s shielded behind Angels Guild and Seraph. It’s not currently a bad castle but you have too many enemies at the gates. Do you understand?”

Too many enemies at the gate… What exactly does he mean by this? Within seconds, the answer came to him. “You’re concerned about our problems. Their problems, Angels Guild. As it stands, they’re being attacked through three avenues: the Nemesis investigation, Devoy; the Anomaly investigation, Sage and Conqueror; and the Sungrazer investigation, the universe splitter and whatever else they’d acquired. And that’s on top of the already-pressing stress generated from the Disaster and any second-order effects.

“Chief Slayer Duskfire, you’re implying Angels is sitting on a house of cards. The Guards will find a way to break through. When that happens, the Baptists will no longer be protected and your son is at risk of sharing your fate.”

His answer was right on the money seeing the older man’s affirmation. “Yes. Angels will be on a timer once I leave Ordo with Dawnfire. Whether or not they’ll succeed is another matter, but they will try to pull out every brick they can grab. One of them will surely be Damien, so what will you do, Kosmos?”

Evenfall was listening intently to the conversation, looking between his father and the world’s strongest Slayer. Without permission, he joined, “You’re asking a dangerous thing from Kosmos, Dad. He kept his hands away from politics and refused to be involved with the Guards in any substantial way—neither for nor against. It’s why he—why you—left Angels Guild and became a solo.”

Momentarily his father looked confused with his son’s sudden defense of Nathan before his expression returned to a cold normal. Evenfall wasn’t defending him. It wasn’t in his character to do so. Instead he had felt inquisitive: what would the Kosmos do? His words were a reminder of his previous stance, and he was completely correct. Had been correct.

Nathan avoided involving himself in deep politics, refusing to comment on any policy or scandal dominating the international public discourse at the time. His duty, he believed, was defending the world against external threats. That was his only duty. Not playing politician or activist, but performing his obligation as a Slayer. Some said it was humility, others said it was cowardice.

To him, it was responsibility. He had too much power and influence. Any affirmation meant millions raising their hands in support, any condemnation meant millions of clenched fists. To the history-keepers, they could count the number of times he’d spoken out on a topic with one hand and subsequently write theses spanning hundreds of pages of the effects of each instance.

That was the sort of power he had. With his mouth, words were tornados that could level entire nations.

He left Angels Guild for that reason, a guild he’d founded with his wife and best friend. No single entity should wield that power, only a single man.

But now, when a new crisis was emerging from the horizon… With the future EX-Rank Slayer in his care…

“I have to change my position,” Nathan told Duskfire with a shaky conviction. “Not because of your son, but because of the new crisis facing us. Sirius Aethfell is a different beast than the previous Dragon King, and I can’t trust the Global Guards with the handling of this operation. We’ve already seen how hostile they are to me, to you. Any amount of cooperation will turn sour and we’ll have internal conflicts worse than the war we’re thrown in.

“So…” Nathan inhaled, feeling the wind within his words, “...I will do it myself.”

The Fayers simultaneously raised their heads with his declaration. Nathan saw the confusion and rising anticipation in their demonic eyes. Do it himself? they must’ve thought.

Nathan answered the unspoken question, “I won’t be alone. In this mission, I’ll have the Baptists and Conqueror most of all. He will be the missing link to everything, someone who can go farther than I ever could. A man stronger than me.”

“What do you mean by that…?” Duskfire muttered to himself, the declaration working its way through his mind. Then he realized it. For the first time in Nathan’s career, he watched Duskfire absorb this information and violently react in heavy shock, his confusion and excitement twisted into surprise and underlying fear.

Evenfall had already known this information. He was sitting on the edge of his seat, brimming with enthusiasm.

All the while his father was stunned into silence.

Nathan nodded as though confirming his suspicions: Yes, that gesture seemed to say, Conqueror will be the first EX-Rank Slayer.

Before the Chief Slayer could respond to this revelation, the Slayer System intruded into their conversation and displayed an important notification to Nathan: a message from Gabriel, or Gadabout, the Chief Otherguard.

Gadabout:

I spoke to my contacts in the GG and my people like you asked.

I got a confirmation: Mystic’s been talking to the 8-14s.

Kosmos:

Roger.

“It’s Gadabout. He messaged me and I need to act on it,” Nathan told them. “I need your answer now, Duskfire: do I have your trust?”

He had.