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"You don’t see the world as it is, you see it as your wounds rember it, and once those wounds change so does your perspective"
-.....AUTHORX
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Raviel walked till the crowded streets filled with people vanished and reached a small place with few people, probably ’Awakened’ buying their supplies from their trusted sources, but raviel wasn’t here for that,
As he walked for a few monts...
Before seeing a board, clean and polished with stickers on it, that read,
( WILSON and Charlotte’s Potions )
The shop outwardly looked almost like a mixture of a café and a pawn shop, the kind of place that evoked the feelings of trustworthiness and guarantee in the hearts of its custors.
Raviel stopped just a few yards from it, pulling his newly bought mask from the utility bag that he got as a gift from the shopkeeper, the mask when he wore it on his face, now felt cold and omnious with a chill that made raviel think twice,
"Shit, I knew this mask feels eerily..... similar to that cursed mask"
Then almost imdiately as if forgetting sothing important, he tapped on his Arctic, before a screen with flashy post’s flooded the holographic screen,
The second raviel reached the doorstep of the shop,
The automatic doors opened itself with a soft chi, Inside the sll of potions that slled more like energy-drinks flooded in his nostrils as they were stacked neatly in rows and so destroyed guns and body-plates lay sprawled near the corner, but overall the shop was clean, almost obsessively so....
Behind the counter a man stood—
Plump, middle aged, silver streaks shinning on his forehead, and a monocle resting on his left eye glimred faintly in the bright-lit store,
"Welco dear custor" he said, his voice sugary with surgical precision.
"And.....what would you like to buy?"
Raviel gaze steeped throughout the layout of the store once-again till it stopped on the man again, he knew that this was not the man’s real appearance, thinking that he must have used an artifact or decoy to hide his real self.
Raviel then went to the counter, and leaned there casually as he said,
"Hmm... Nice shop"
The man chuckled, "Well, we try to keep it as clean as possible, this kind of image helps with custors you see,
Wilson and Charlotte’s has been since—
"Since you decided to wash your hands not with blood but perfu?" Raviel interrupted softly.
The smile on the man’s face froze for a few seconds,
"I’m afraid I didn’t quite follow it sir?" He spoke as he adjusted his monocle,
Raviel tilted his head as if amused,
"Of-course you do" or "should i call you Fredrick Williamson?" Tell , it will be as per you like it.
The man whose na tag which now shone brightly as the rays got reflected, and his hands twitched slightly near the counter.
Raviel tone stayed calm, almost as if mocking "or perhaps....Chico, the man—the myth, the one who sold weapons for different races, under 6 different nas, the one who is the infamous broker of the black-market or the one who had gone underground for 5-months when the purge started".....
Raviel narrowed his eyes on the natag that read— Henry
’Henry’ Raviel said softly, eyes narrowing behind the mask, "do you know who that is".
The man chuckled faintly, though his shoulders trembled and fingers shook,
"There are many Fredrick’s in the world sir, how would i know which one you are—"
"Oh pardon, my mistake" Raviel interrupted again, his voice now dripping with a venomous edge, "I ant the one with the half-dead daughter, adopted actually as he found her shivering in one of the death-zone, sixteen years ago during a mission and is suffering from mana congenital neurovascular disease, Does this ring any bell"
The man Henry or now you could say Fredrick, remained very still as if struck by lightning and dying on the spot,
Raviel’s tone however remained calm, cold and consistent, every word slicing through the air,
"She’s in Beacon Health Institute, Hapsphere branch, ward- 21 and room no.204, surviving barely on low-grade supprt system, No visitors, not even you"
He paused his tone turning sharp–
"Not even her father"
As raviel switched on the Arctic and showed Henry a picture: a picture of his daughter on a social dia handle smiling with full of life and Henry who was holding her wheelchair with a tired but happy smile.
How..how do you have this, i surely had deleted it
"Tell ", Raviel murmured stepping closer to the counter and leaning deliberately on it as if observing his every expression and action, "does that na now sounds familiar, Mr Henry"
"Because if it doesn’t" then i can tell you how she looks when she sleeps— a doll who is barely few scratches away from being torn apart by her own disease"
Across the counter, Henry now stood still like a puppet, his knuckles turning white as he pressed it against the marble- surface.
And raviel stood there observing him like a ghost.
For a heartbeat no one moved—
But Henry hands struck against the counter with tremondous force as a small dagger moved with a crescent-arc with red sparks of mana trailing as it moved through the air,
But Raviel moved like he had expected the blade to move before it left his hands— a small practiced step was all it took to move out of the weapon’s range,
Henry laughed- cracking his neck, his fingers still held on to the dagger as he watched raviel movents before snapping,
"An E rank threatening an C rank, you know right i can feel your mana which is leaking out of your body, right?"
"Sucidal or gutsy, maybe the latter one, but don’t you know your place, you fucker! I could gut you right now right here and no one would know, you would just be another body in Hapsphere which got disappeared don’t you think—"
Raviel’s voice cut him off again,
"Or I could tell Night-hawk your na"
The effect was imdiate as the weapon in his hands dropped to the ground with a
Clang~
You...you how do you know that na, as Night-hawk was one of the superior who had frozen his accounts and trade till the purge lasted and it worked as henry’s courage faded as fast as it got activated.
Raviel spoke again,
"Or better i could tell your na to the N.U.A or inform them about your accounts or handling"
Maybe the second option might spare you with life-ti imprisonnt, but the first one would definitely bury your daughter’s sickly grave besides your empty one.
Henry who had now fallen to his knees as if losing all his strength muttered almost pleadingly,
"What the hell do you want....."
Raviel chid in as his smile never faded
—All I need is your co-operation Henry.
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