She was like fire.

A chaotic flame that he knew would grow, and probably bite him in the ass by the end of everything. He yearned for the fire, the reward would be worth the mayhem.

Sitting at the opposite corner of the patio was the oh-so evasive Desirae, sipping on her drink as she mindlessly babbled to her friend.

He knew her name. A sweet ringing repetition floating through his head as he let it burn into his memory. Having friends in high places really helped him find the information he wanted most.

Her friend watched her, taking in every word like she was a honeysuckle in bloom. The budding, young love. Oddly enough, she was oblivious to his intent—DeVile was convinced this man could be sitting on his hands and knees begging for her adoration, and she would probably just shrug her shoulders and wave it off.

“What are we doin’ here, anyway?” One of his new recruits mumbled. DeVile shot him a glance with narrow eyes, he was still snappy and defied tasks assigned to him.

“I don’t know, dumbass. Just picking some roses and enjoying the scenic views.”

The other man, Azriel, laughed, his nose wrinkling as he shook his head. “Quinz, you’re a real dumbass!”

Rolling his eyes, DeVile turned his head away. He needed these idiots, they were as absorbent as a sponge—and would serve as a bullet sponge if necessary. WiredSec had remained peaceful and stayed out of trouble for a while, but it was only a matter of time before somebody messed up.

He returned his focus to the duo, watching as Desirae swatted the man on the wrist, smiling wide. He snickered, crossing his arms over his chest after placing a cigar in his mouth. The room was cluttered and loud, laughing families surrounding him as they ate their overpriced meals and drank their weak, watered-down drinks. Chicago had changed aesthetically over the last century, but one thing remained the same: tourists were idiots and drank liquor-water for an arm and a leg.

Desirae was a smart girl. She was intuitive, even with all of the distractions and clattering around her, she found him. Not that he was trying his hardest to remain hidden; chasing was so much more fun when he got to see the look on their face when caught. Besides, he was no spy. He was an augmented criminal. Sneaking around just wasn’t for him.

He took the cigar out of his mouth and blew the smoke to the side, right into Quinz’s face. He coughed, but DeVile didn’t care. Mouthing a ‘hello’, he reveled in the shock that crossed her features. She looked terrified, a trembling image of a woman who got herself into a whole new world. She’d lighten up to the idea soon enough, especially when he showed her where the real money was made.

DeVile wasn’t stupid, he knew she was just a rebellious eighteen year old wanting to make a name for herself. Lost, in a way. He was that way, too, a young hoodrat who got into dealing drugs. Dealing augmentations, and being an impartial messenger between gangs and the network, was similar but there was something about Desirae that made DeVile jump at the gun to recruit her. Unwillingly, sure, but nothing good came without a little meddling.

He chuckled under his breath as she sunk into her seat, pulling the collar of her sweater up past her chin as she mumbled to her boy toy. She was uncomfortable, and DeVile found it humorous. What did she think he was going to do, cause a scene in the middle of this tourist hotspot? He would never… unless provoked.

And suddenly, the bull was greeted by the red cape.

Standing tall from his seat, a boy no older than twenty made his way towards DeVile with his nostrils flared and shoulders pulled back. He was trying to act tough. It made DeVile snicker. Flickering his gaze over the man quickly, he activated his Electric Eye. This augment allowed him to see any augmentations beneath the surface from afar, just so he knew what was coming at him before the action ensued. Luckily enough for him, this kid was nothing but meat and bones. An empty canvas, one he could see making a few thousand off of just by selling him the right accesorry.

“What’s goin’ on?” DeVile greeted him and held up his hand for a swift high-five. The man stared at his hand before shaking his head.

“What’s going on with you, dude? You’re making my friend uncomfortable.”

DeVile placed the cigar back in his mouth with a smirk, nodding his head. “She’s my friend too, you know. We are well acquainted.”

He made DeVile smile, the way he eyed his metallic arm with discontentment. He reveled in the sight of somebody growing uneasy from his augmentations: it was like a colorful, poisonous frog in the wild—the bystander should know what dangers hid behind that pretty facade.

“Something tells me you’re full of shit.”

DeVile sucked in a breath, shaking his hand as if he had gotten burned. “Yikes, somebody is a little harsh. What’s your name?”

“I don’t know why it matters—”

“You two are so much alike, so defensive… a match made in heaven, no doubt,” DeVile said and pointed to the sky. Just a touch of dramedy to remedy this situation, he told himself.

He clamped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes. “Listen, just walk outta here now, dude. I don’t want any trouble.”

DeVile took the cigar out of his mouth and flick some ash in his direction, holding his hands up quickly in surrender. “Alright, alright. You got some balls, coming at a guy like me. I’m going to ask you one more time: what’s your name?”

“Zeke. Happy? Good, now leave.”

“Zeke…” DeVile hummed and shrugged his shoulders, his eyes falling on Desirae who looked terrified. Nodding in her direction, he squashed the cigar purposefully on the counter, watching as a large cloud of smoke flew into the ceiling. The bystanders at the bar coughed and glared in his direction. “Alright, Zeke, tell Desirae our mutual, and me, will be waiting for her on Friday. Remind her to wear somethin’ pretty.”

Zeke’s jaw dropped, and as DeVile ordered his recruits to follow he could feel those john-doe eyes burning into the back of his head with rage.

⟨ᴠᴀɢʀᴀɴᴛ⟩

Chicago has always been dangerous. Whether it was 2015 or 2150, this city always led the way for violence, for crime, and for hellholes hidden beyond the alleyways of corporations. DeVile was a man of this environment, he was bred on it and he yearned for the adrenaline. “Of the City,” was the literal translation to his name, and he wore the title proudly.

He was made of dirty money. Thousands of dollars earned off recruiting a network of messengers and dealers that would collect the names of interested and willing-to-pay patients that served to publicly don the augmented lifestyle. It was taboo, and many politicians did everything they could to severely limit the exposure of extracurricular alterations to the general public. Their people couldn’t get stronger than the rich dirtbags who led the country to a status of mindless acceptance of discrimination towards the augments that saved and changed lives for the better.

Arriving back to the WiredSec headquarters, he nodded at the guards stationed at the entrance. WiredSec was a notorious name, one that was deemed as terroristic by mass media, but as an organization of vigilante’s to the average joe that wanted their freedom to choose.

Once inside, he made way towards the server room and knocked on the doorway. Below him, underneath one of the shelves, was a girl that bonked her head in fright. Pushing herself into the open, Lystra glared up at DeVile while shaking her head. “You know not to come in unannounced like that!”

“Why? Afraid of a little bruise?” DeVile said and walked over. He offered a hand and watched as the pink-headed girl stood, brushing off some dust that coated her forehead. “What are you working on?”

“Just some cable management,” she chuckled and looked towards the wires and shook her head. DeVile raised a brow, shrugging his shoulder and picked a piece of fuzz from her shoulder.

“Whatever you choose to do in your free time is up to you.”

“Where have you been?” She asked, ignoring him as she picked up some zip ties from the ground.

Snickering, he shook his head. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Lystra turned to him with wide eyes, shaking her head dramatically. “Ordinary for you is causing car accidents in the heart of downtown and making a cop chase after one of the new recruits. Oh, come on! Was it Quinz? We’ve had him for like, what, two weeks? You can’t threaten his well being like that. At least, not so early on!"

“Such faith you have in me.” DeVile crossed his arms and cocked his head. “Quinz is fine. I wish he wasn’t, but he is.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, she threw some trash away before waving him out. “What did you do, then? You’re acting way too cocky to not have something to brag about.”

“Just played some psychological warfare, is all.”

“Psychological—” Lystra started before sighing, walking faster to keep up with his longer strides. “I don’t want to know… But I really do! What did you do?”

They sat down in the living space, accepting a cup of water when she offered it to him. The headquarters served as a safe haven for the WiredSec members, a place where they could rest and sleep for the night. Tonight, it was quiet, but oftentimes this room was buzzing with live music and loud voices as people gathered for an evening of relaxation and unbiased eyes. Out in the real world, people stuck their nose up at anybody who wore their augments proudly. Even those who had them simply to increase their quality of life, such as the crippled and handicapped, they were seen as the scum of the earth. That was why DeVile was in this business—the cash was just an added benefit. He would be fine with death, but only if it meant his demise caused crowds of augmented citizens to rise from the ashes, rioting until their voice was heard.

“You wanna see?”

Lystra’s eyes got wide, the corners of her lips tugging into a mischievous smile. Nodding, she moved to his side of the sofa and laid her hand flat on her knee. On the top of her hand was a metal plate that followed the structure of her bones, leading up her arms and tucking underneath her shirt. The connections stopped at the curve of her neck, opening up all the possibilities in this world. Limited to the technology of the times, of course. But, luckily enough for Lystra, the world was more advanced than ever.

Pushing a button on his metallic wrist, he rested a connection point atop the plate and watched as her arm radiated blue; the augments came to life. This ability Lystra held was unique, it allowed her to slip beyond the ties of reality and into an almost hallucinogenic state. However, this was not a hallucination to her, it was reality. A fly on the wall that was able to harness the endless potential of a ghost.

“I’m ready when you are, Ly.”

“Bring me in.”

Smiling, he looked down at their hands and closed his eyes. With one final click, they began to share the experiences DeVile had that day as if she had been there all along.