The Marriott was as fancy and grand as Jas had imagined. Its main tower soared up into the cloudy sky, pale gray stone with hundreds of blue windows embedded seamlessly in its face. The front was snarled with official cars of all stripes, including a humr and limousine. Jas guessed they werent the only ones to have noted its helpful proximity to the NYCEM.
Jessica was in her elent and guided them through the bustling crowd and into the lobby. It was exactly the kind of place that had been off-limits to him for most of the past decade, everything gleaming, sophisticated, clean, expensive. Despite everything, despite the events of the past week, Jas found himself hunching his shoulders and waiting for a faux-friendly tap on his elbow as a security guard accosted him.
Jessica retrieved a duffel bag from the front desk and strode back to them both. Clean clothing. Take a mont to freshen up, and then Ill take you to the ballroom. She checked her watch. We have ten minutes.
Jas washed his face in the echoing restroom, the wall mirror revealing him in all his shabby, worn glory. Shucking the torn and ichor splattered clothing, he used a wad of paper towels to wash behind the neck and under his arms, then pulled on more Bass Pro gear.
Jessica had a good eye for this kind of stuff. Despite himself he looked pretty sharp in the mirror. He raked his fingers through his beard and imagined standing before a thousand new DRC mbers.
A fucking thousand.
His shoulders slumped. He wasnt an inspiring leader-type. Hed be what? Just a guy helping organize this shit. Hed not put on airs, think himself important. Hed been around the block too many tis to think otherwise.
Erging from the bathroom he saw Serenity had donned a black Adidas tracksuit with white racing stripes down the arms and legs. She was scowling, but couldnt quite hide how pleased she was, and how well the tracksuit fit her newly athletic fra; shed pulled her hair back into a ponytail and was chewing a stick of gum, her eyes narrowed as she studied Jas in turn.
Look at you, boy. If this whole DRC thing falls through, you could try booking so hobo-chic fashion shoots.
You should talk, track star. He chuckled and realized Jessica was all but tapping her foot. Ready.
This way. Jessica strode down a large hallway, past a bank of elevators, then down another hall to a massive set of double doors. A young man in a suit stood before it with a tablet, and his generic smile ca to life at the sight of Jessica.
Ms. Miles. Everybodys inside.
Mark, this is Jas and Serenity. Marks one of the DRCs latest assistants, used to work out of Budgeting but he was wasted there.
Mark, said Jas.
Sir. Mark blushed. Its an honor to et you.
Jas had no idea how to respond to that, so he just stayed quiet.
Jessica cracked open one of the doors and he followed her inside. The ballroom was indeed massive, the coffered ceiling high above with huge chandeliers made of a thousand crystal rods each, while everything else followed the color sche of a Tiramisu cake. Endless rows of chairs had been set out in a semicircle around a stage, and for the first ti Jas saw the DRC recruits.
They were as varied as any crowd of New Yorkers. He saw a Hasidic Jew with a massive black felt hat, scrawny holess types, guys in suits, teenagers, hard-faced older guys, won in athletic gear, a crew of beefy firen in their navy shirts, a few elderly n and won, and on and on. Every ethnicity, every age, every economic class.
The one thing they all had in common, however, was their weaponry. Whether it was a baseball bat, a cane, a shovel, a rifle, pistols, shotguns, or even swords, theyd all brought their weapons of destruction with them.
Standing on the stage was a balding guy in his late twenties, his eyebrows bright red, his face freckled, his manner energized, engaging.
Richard, no doubt. He was finishing his speech, a slide projected on the wall behind him with a single question mark resplendent in the center.
which is why I want to end on a note of caution. Everything we know is limited to whats been revealed to the world over the course of the last five days. Were going to do our best to optimize that data, but as far as data sets go, its incredibly limited. We can extrapolate from what weve learned about the Neses 1, 2, and the Monitors, but even those data sets can be misleading. Whos to say Nesis 3 wont be psychic? Or able to fly? Turn invisible? rge into a demonic super entity, Voltron style? We dont know, which ans our plans and guides must remain dynamic and flexible.
For now, everything Ive shared with you holds true, but co Nesis 3, it all might change. So dont disregard Night Vision or Remove Fear out of hand. What if Nesis 3 can disappear into shadows and unleash waves of unnatural panic? We just dont know. Which! I know sounds like a downer. But this is the demon apocalypse, people, were not here to hold hands and say affirmations. Dont hate on the ssenger.
That said, Ill be maintaining the DRCs latest guides on our website, so make sure to check those out, and Ill blast you all with notifications of important updates as I make them. Until then, dont hesitate to reach out by email or the contact form on the DRC site. My email is [email protected] Im happy to answer all and any optimization questions, or whatever else you need help with. Yeah? Aweso. Now go forth and prosper.
There was a smattering of applause. Richard waved, walked off the stage, then as the applause began to die out jogged back up, opened his arms and shook his head with feigned modesty. No, really, thank you, thats too much, youre too kind. Thank you.
He pressed his hands together and bowed really low, then stepped back, pointed toward the ceiling as if toward non-existent balconies, then jogged off again.
I like his style, said Serenity. I thought he was supposed to be a nerd?
A lady took the mike and stepped onto the stage. She was curvy, wore 1950s librarian glasses, and smile nervously at the crowd.
Thats Cindy, said Jessica.
All right, thank you, Richard, and no, Im not going to call you Mr. Star Boy. Sorry.
So laughter from the crowd, but not much.
Well, I think the mont weve all been waiting for has arrived. Cindy made eye contact with Jessica, who gave her a thumbs up. He needs no introduction, as hes the man who made all of this possible. Please welco the Deputy Commissioner of the DRC on stage, Mr. Jas Kelly.
People turned, craned their necks, and Jas stared straight ahead as he led Serenity down the center of the ballroom to the stage.
People began to applaud, and quite a few gave curt shouts of encouragent. A few folks even stood as they clapped.
Again, Jas didnt know what to make of it, so he just didnt think about it.
Cindy t him at the edge of the stage and handed him the mike. Im such a big fan, she said, her glasses gleaming. Im so happy to be helping out.
Jas nodded back, then mounted the stage and with microphone in hand turned to face the crowd.
Sexy lumberhobojack! called Richard from between cupped hands.
Chuckles from the crowd.
But most of them were studying him. Jas saw hard expressions, piercing stares. Everybody in this room was at least Level 5. That ant theyd killed thousands of Nesis 1s or more. Theyd seen terrible violence, had faced loss, tragedy, pain.
And now they were here. Willing to hear him out for a few minutes. The vast majority of the room was willing to give him that much, and nothing else. Everything hed done had been enough to bring them here.
The rest hed have to earn.
Hello. Thank you for coming. My na is Jas Kelly, and Im a Supplicant Level 2. A week ago I was living on the streets, just trying to get by. Then a gremlin tried to tear out my throat -
Demon, Serenity called from the stages side.
A demon tried to tear out my throat, and, well, now here I am. You all know what Ive been through. Youve been through it yourself. I guess what we all have in common is a refusal to stand back and do nothing. It doesnt matter who you were, what you did, if you were an upstanding mber of society or sleeping on park benches like . When the mont of truth ca, you found it within yourself to kill the enemy, and then keep on killing.
Nods. So people crossed their arms, leaned back, others sat forward, interest avid.
Now youre here. Wondering what Ive got to say to you. If Im actually a governnt tool. If youre wasting your ti when you could be out there leveling, gaining power, getting ready for Nesis 3. And Ill tell you this: to ? The Departnt of Ranking Citizens is a ans to an end. A bigger bat. A way to take out more demons, faster, more safely, and nothing more. Were lucky to have good people putting this together, helping this mont happen, but at its core, the reason were all here is because weve found out were good at killing demons and we want to find out ways to do it better.
More nods.
Im no leader. Any one of you could be up here saying this shit. But whatever, Im here now, so lets run with it. The armys going to attack one of those demon symbol blocks in a couple of hours. Were talking Black Hawk helicopters, special ops, miniguns, Rangers, the works. They dont think were worth listening too, so were going to do the sa thing, but were going to do it better. The Nesis 2s are doing so heinous shit in those blocks beneath the symbols, and were going to work together to put a stop to it.
A heavyset guy with a shaved head raised his hand. What the fuck they doin in there, anyways?
We dont know for sure. What weve seen with our own eyes is that theyre taking live people and consuming them, then shitting their bodies out as pink goo with which theyre covering the buildings. We dont know why, but we want to find out if those people are still ntally there and capable of being saved.
A good chunk of the crowd hadnt heard this, and reacted with faces curdled in disgust, so shouting their horror and anger, others rising to their feet before settling again.
I know how you feel. Jass voice was heavy with resignation. Its how Ive been feeling since we saw it. And its the reason Im willing to stand up here like an idiot and talk like so politician. But what it all cos down to is that the thousand or so people in this room are going to do sothing about it. The demons think theyre killers? Jas slowly scanned the crowd. Theyre in for a rude awakening. If our species has proven one thing over the past hundred thousand years its that the one thing we do best is kill things that dont look like us, and sotis were not even that discriminating. Killing shit is in our blood. Its in our genetic code. And now were going to rise up and show them why they made the wrong move the day they decided to walk into our town and start slaughtering innocents. Were going to head over to that symbol and destroy every Nesis 2 that we see. Were going to scour that place clean, and then move on to the next symbol, then the next, and were not going to stop till every last demon is dead and this city, this country, this world is ours once more.
Jas inhaled deeply, pursed his lips, and stared intently at the thousand killers before him. You all with ?
Hoarse shouts of agreent tore themselves from hundreds of throats, and while not everybody seed as enthused, Jas knew hed gotten through to a critical mass.
The DRC was up and running.
Bear with , he said, then dug out his phone and raised it up. Thumbed his way to TikTok, angled the phone just right so that his face and the huge crowd behind him was in focus, and hit record.
Short ssage here from , Jas Kelly. Im standing with a thousand other n and won who have committed to wiping out a nest of Nesis 2s. Everybody here is at least Level 5, and by the ti were done, by the ti the sun sets, were all going to be that much stronger. And then were going to find another nest, and another, and keep killing those fuckers till the next wave hits, and then? Well burn Aeviternum and kill those fuckers, too. If this resonates with you, wherever you are, then do this: find other people to stand with. Join forces. Start your own group, your own war band, and start killing. Individually we may be fierce, but together were unstoppable.
He paused.
The hundreds of faces visible on the screen shone with grim determination.
Now if you all will excuse , its ti to get to work.
And he quit recording.
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