Gibson family honored at charity gala

It was indeed a who's who of celebrity guests who walked down the red carpet last evening. From Lady Steel to commentator Justice Jones, this cavalcade of the beautiful people certainly was something to behold. Proceeds from the ball are to benefit victims of hunger and poverty and yes, it said 'victims'. Last night was yet another example of how the elite glad-hand each other in order to reinforce the status quo; virtue signaling just how much they supposedly care. Meanwhile, real people are starving and struggling in the southern district. People are crapping on the street and living in trash, but I'm sure said proceeds will find their way to fix the systemic issues facing us.

-Annonymous writer.

Wes Gibson rubbed his eyes, the office lights were dim and he was thankful. The sleepless nights had done little to help his mental and physical health. In front of him was a stack of disposable slates that required his eye scan. Instead, he switched things up and rubbed his temple.

His personal office—the perks of being a Gibson—was large enough to fit a large simulation oak desk, a pair of black ultra-leather couches, and a neon green plasteel coffee table. Even in the low light, the stupid thing was obnoxious; why did he let mother talk him into it? Wes stopped rubbing long enough to look at it.

His gaze slowly moved from there to the darkened corner of the room. He usually hung his jacket there but couldn’t make it out. He squinted, trying to make out its shape or the trace glimmer of light reflecting off its materials. An eye opened.

Then another.

“Knock knock,” a voice said as they pushed open the door to his office. It was the old man, John Gibson; patriarch of the Gibson Clan and second largest majority shareholder in the ICG. John was a well-built man with graying short hair cropped in a military buzz cut, his forehead was large and his cheekbones were low. So close to one another, John looked like an artificially aged facsimile of Wes.

Concentration broken, Wes took his eyes off the dark corner and made contact with his dads. He shot both back to the corner and could make out the details of his jacket; he swallowed down hard.

“You alright, son?” His father asked, closing the door behind him.

“Sure Dad,” Wes said while he stood; beads of sweat made themselves apparent on his forehead. The two met at the center of the room; John shoved a stack of slates into his chest.

“Get your sesh together,” he hissed. “Have you been taking your medication?"

“Of-of course, Dad,” the words dripped out of his mouth while he clumsily took the slates. The elder Gibson studied him with lowered eyebrows.

“I’m making an appointment with your therapist for this afternoon.”

“But dad…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” John said. “I can't have you walking around out there looking like that. Consider the rest of your day off and,” he snatched the slates back. “Give me that.”

Wes’ father left the room unceremoniously and he continued standing in the center of the room ignoring his peripheral vision. The shadows slithered.

***

"I never thought you were a thief, let's just get that out of the way." Corina Kyle stated flatly before adding: "And judging by what you're currently wearing, I'd say I was right."

Roxanne looked down at herself and got momentarily embarrassed; she recovered quickly, what was there to be embarrassed about? Sesh, I look great.

"So explain what I've been seeing then," she said.

"Just a media narrative that they ran with," Corina replied. A part of her hated that this was her answer but how could they even begin to dispute it? It wasn't like they had exculpatory facts to counteract it aside from Corina’s own vague notion about this young girl she had met months before. The rings were gone and so was the girl, hard to combat 'obvious' facts such as that.

Roxanne had folded her arms at the comment, Corina wasn’t sure if she was annoyed and either didn't care she showed it or wasn't sure how to hide it. "You're her successor now, am I right?" Corina asked.

"How do you know about that?" Roxanne replied.

"She mentioned it, in so far as she was someone else's successor…I'm just putting two and two together here."

"Okay," Roxanne said. "Well, yes. I am."

"How did you know? That you were the one?" Corina found herself curious about how it all worked; perhaps fascinated was more appropriate.

Roxanne shrugged, "I mean—I didn't," she replied. "They called out to me. The rings, I mean."

Corina bowed her head slightly in acknowledgment. Honestly, to her, it made as much sense as anything else in her life. Corina approached her and studied her face, this was still that teenage girl she had met all those years ago.

"What happened once you touched them?" she asked.

"I was taken to the Bleed and," Roxanne sighed. "I mean, I was basically told that I'd been chosen and that I had this new purpose and blah-blah." Corina couldn't help but smirk at how blasé this girl made this seem.

Roxanne continued, "I said yes and come back home only to find out I've lost, like, five years of my life?!" She shook her head, clearly bothered.

A bulb went off in Corina's brain, "Ah, so that explains why you look the same."

Roxanne scrunched her eyebrows when she heard her. "Hang on," she said. "You remember me?"

Corina nodded matter-of-factly. "Yeah, of course," She replied. The truth was that she remembered every moment of every part she played that day. Her inaction was at the top of such a list but this girl in particular always stood out.

Maybe it was because she was the last person Azonne had personally saved—actually the only one now that she thought about it—or maybe what happened six months later had solidified the girl in her mind. Either way, she was being honest. Normally, when someone asked that, she would roll her eyes. Of course, she didn’t, typically. Most of the time it was impossible to distinguish between someone she had saved or shook hands with or just said hello to at one party that one time.

Most of those people were faceless blobs.

Roxanne pointed at her, a grin had formed across her face and she said: "You're messing with me, aren't you?" She did an awkward set of finger guns that she had no confidence in and had clearly regretted the minute they had come up. Corina raised both her eyebrows and tried to stifle a laugh with some success.

She placed a hand on Roxanne's shoulder and asked, "Listen, would you be willing to come back with me to Central One?"

"Maybe," Roxanne narrowed her eyes and then shrugged. "I mean, probably. Why?"

"It has some questions," Corina replied. "And, to be honest, if this," and she made a motion with her hands to indicate that she was speaking of Roxanne. "If this is what you're going to be doing, it will probably help you more than hurt."

"Why would it hurt?"

"It'll just help you," Corina responded quickly.

Roxanne thought for a moment; she appeared to be engaged in an ongoing dialogue with herself silently. After a minute she said, "So I'm definitely not arrested?"

Corina laughed; this girl was a trip. "No, you're definitely not arrested."

"Okay," Roxanne nodded. "Lead the way."

***

Wes hadn’t been in this room for almost two years but it was like he had never left. Everything was as she left it; Dr. Serena Sinclair. She hadn’t changed much either, money paid for a lot of things. Her white hair covered a part of her face like half a moon, she was wearing a white pantsuit and sat comfortably with her legs crossed.

“How are you, Wesley?” She asked and he winced; the only person who called him that; like she had power over him. He shifted in his seat and tried to match her posture.

“I’m good,” he said.

“If that were true you wouldn’t be here.” Wes stared at her forehead, a small eye opened on it. He shut his eyes tightly and swallowed; he opened them again; it was gone.

“My dad just worries, is all.”

“Have you had the nightmares again?”

“No! I take my medicine…”

“And yet…?”

Wes looked at her, the eye was back. He realized that light only shined on her, the rest of the office was a visage of nothingness. Other eyes opened in the expanse, some blinked; others did not.

“Maybe a stronger prescription?” He stammered. Ms. Sinclair tapped on her knee, she had been taking copious notes mentally via her AUG; this was going to make her rich.

“We can do that Wesley,” she started. “What is it about this dream that you feel compels you to keep having it?”

“It says it wants to be my friend, it always has.” Wes thought back to that day 5 years ago, when he was helpless while his body attacked Roxanne. He wanted it to stop so very much, but a voice just whispered that things were alright. Once Roxanne had vanished, the voice whispered still that they were his friend before they got silenced forever by medication.

It said the same things now.

“Is it my friend?” He asked.

“It doesn’t exist,” she told him. “Let's get that prescription increased.

***

Roxanne was being escorted by Lady Steel; I'm being escorted by Lady Steel! She was giddy as they both climbed, Brachium was rising and was deep into the early hours of the Long Morning. Roxanne beamed, not only was Lady Steel flying with her but she remembered her; Roxanne was beside herself. All she knew about Lady Steel was based on everything she had read from the media; Roxanne hoped that she could have even just a fraction of Lady Steel’s guts as she goes through with this new life.

Question, Roxanne slowed herself to allow Lady Steel to pull ahead of her. Azonne appeared as a waveform in her HUD.

"What's up?" Roxanne asked.

What was that motion you had performed earlier?

"What motion?"

You took your index finger and held your thumb perpendicular to that—then you pointed your index finger at her.

"The finger gun?"

Searching. Oh.

Roxanne rolled her eyes and caught up with Lady Steel. Central One rose to greet them and Lady Steel guided her to one of the newly repaired towers. Roxanne did a quick search and read an article about how the top floors had now been reinforced with polymer steel resin and ultra-thin nano-fiber woven into each beam at a subatomic level; Cool. Roxanne figured they were going for the elevator but Lady Steel surprised her when she made her way to the emergency stairs.

Lady Steel noticed her puzzlement and offered, "I don't walk much so I take it where I can get it." Which made sense to Roxanne who jogged up to her.

"Uh, Ms. Steel?"

"You can call me Corina."

"Okay," and Roxanne smiled. "So is it always like that? With the media?"

Corina thought for a second as they both descended. "Yeah, pretty much. They're all mostly terrible," she replied.

"To be honest," Roxanne said. "I'm not sure that's how I want to live my life."

"Publicly, you mean?"

"Ah, I mean, I guess?" Roxanne sighed.

"Well, don't." Corina offered. "Live the life you want to live. They all act as if you owe them something but you don't." Roxanne appreciated Corina leveling with her like this but a question had come to mind:

"So is this the life you want to live?" she asked, and Corina stopped in her tracks as if the question itself existed in real space and stopped her progress. She turned to look at Roxanne and offered half a smile.

"Sometimes, it's great and I wouldn't trade it for anything else," she replied. "Other times I just wish I was back off-world living an anonymous existence."

Roxanne could see a wistful look take hold on Corina's face. Corina, having noticed Roxanne looking at her, quickly offered a small smile before she pressed a fingertip to her lips.

"Don't tell anyone," she said and Roxanne mimed her mouth being locked and she was throwing away the key. Central One's inner chamber had similarly been rebuilt and refortified. It was still a harsh and stark white that instantly took Roxanne back to the room within the Bleed. In the center stood the AI's new shell: a massive scorpion mech, chrome-colored and deadly looking.

The machine had massive plasteel claws that opened up to reveal tinier little arms and instruments for fine manipulation. It stood squat on 6 spindly legs and the tail had a bulbous end in place of a stinger. This end spun around revealing a blue eye that was studying her.

Welcome, Roxanne Belmonte, it said.

"Uh, hi," Roxanne couldn't hide that she was a touch intimidated. Not only would this be her first time in the presence of such a giant mech, but this was easily the most powerful AI she had ever talked to up to this point.

Forgive any syntax errors, I rarely utilize human speech.

"Alright."

Am I correct in surmising that you have a personal AI on board with you?

"Well, yes and no," the machine paused to consider her answer before finally saying:

May I interface with it? Data can be shared much easier this way.

A thumbs-up emote appeared in her peripheral so she replied with, "Yeah, sure."

The machine’s massive tail rested as it folded its legs under its hull; the blue light of the lens winked out as Central One's processes accessed the Bleed and then the First/Azonne. Roxanne couldn't quite follow the binary that was being exchanged between the two, realizing that it was—shockingly—the one language she did not know.

Roxanne turned to Corina with an eyebrow raised, she wanted to ask if this was normal but Corina had already shrugged in her direction. Corina leaned forward and said, "Well I had a question myself."

"Oh?" Roxanne asked.

"Are we safe? The last thing Azonne had said was that she figured out how to stop this," she replied. The memory had hit Roxanne with perfect clarity and she nodded.

"Supposedly corruption cannot be burned out without killing the host body," Roxanne stated. "But the darkness itself cannot be fully destroyed so she locked an aspect away in the Bleed before sacrificing herself."

"Why do you say supposedly?"

"Because no one has tried," Roxanne replied, and she shook her head. "I keep being told it's impossible."

"Hm,” was all Corina had to say to that. Eventually, "So everything is good then?"

Roxanne shook her head, "Not exactly, no. After I took the mantle and returned to the real world the gate was opened, releasing it.

"So it's out there?"

Roxanne nodded, "But, Azonne tells me that if I can stop it before it fully infests here again, not only would Izanami be safe but we can restore the balance fully."

“Azonne?” Corina asked. “She’s still alive?”

“Sort of,” Roxanne replied. “It’s hard to explain.”

Corina recalled being explained the Balance briefly and wanted to ask more but Central One had come alive again. The machine unfurled all its legs and then spun around in place. It opened one of its claws so that fiber optic cables could unfurl from within. They slithered out and chomped onto the nearby wall.

Finally, it said: Thank you, Roxanne, I have all the information I need concerning your mission. Any assistance you may need in pursuit of this, our resources are available to you.

Both Roxanne and Corina were a bit shocked at this although Corina was less so. Central One typically kept a lot close to its chest; the AI never gave Corina details unless she absolutely needed to know. Roxanne glanced over to Corina and gave an imperceptible shrug before she said, "Well thank you."

I am also aware of what you may be looking for. If any of my sub-minds come across potential manifestation vectors, we will contact you.

Roxanne nodded, "Alright." She paused and took in the room once more before she turned back to Corina and said, "I think I should get back home. I kind of left something unfinished there."

"Sure," Corina nodded. "I think he's done with you. Here let me cast you my private number, anything you need—just give me a buzz."

Roxanne stood momentarily stunned that this was just offered, it took a lot of self-control to not go full-blown nuclear fangirl; I’m an adult damn it. She blushed, smiled, and said thank you before she'd gone out the way they had come in: out the emergency exit and back up the stairs.

***

Wes Gibson’s AUG had come to life and buzzed internally. Old alerts he had set up, long since dormant, suddenly rose from the dead. It was her; her name plastered over every site: Roxanne Belmonte sighted near Junk Town. Suspected robber foils attempted bomb plot. The headlines agitated something in him, old crud he thought was buried in the basement.

As he watched the footage Wes found himself smiling. It was her; what was she wearing exactly? Like she hadn't aged a day, a snapshot of her had been plucked out from his memories and then placed in front of him.

"This is incredible,” he said louder than he intended. Jessica had stirred; she groaned something to him about going back to sleep; he ignored her. How could he go back to sleep now?

"Baby?" She half grumbled. "You okay?"

Wes tapped her gently on her hip and whispered, "No I'm fine, go back to bed." After a second, he added: "Something came up for work, I'll be back."

It was believable enough, he had been working for his old man since he was 19 and sudden call-ins were inevitable; something he’d exploited on more than one occasion. She was already asleep again as he threw the covers off. If Roxanne truly was back then he needed to see her. He couldn't explain why. He felt 16 again just at the sight of her; it was more than enough. He got dressed quickly.

***

Roxanne had a lot to think about as she flew back toward her home. There was what Central One had told her which was help she was glad to have. There was also the fact that she now possessed Lady Steel's personal phone number; pretty huge all on its own. Both paled in comparison to facing her grandmother after storming out earlier.

She knew that grandmother would be understanding, doubly so because this had been the first time she'd laid eyes upon Roxanne in five years. Roxanne imagined that grandmother would probably just run up to her crying while offering more and more hugs; she felt like such a heel to even consider taking such advantage. Roxanne knew she had messed up, big time. Storming out was not the right thing to do and yelling at her was even worse.

She needed to just apologize and grow the hell up. In mid-flight, she changed her clothes back to street wear and in one motion landed beside the front stairs gracefully. Roxanne took them up slower than usual this time, she had been mentally going over in her head what she was going to say and how she was going to say it.

With a press of her palm, the front door shifted upward and the AI greeted her, albeit less confused than the last time. Roxanne didn't hear it, however. Instead, she heard laughter emanating from the kitchen. Roxanne sidled in, cautiously, with her eyebrows scrunched up as if they had been pinched by tweezers.

Sitting at the kitchen island was her grandmother, of course, joined by a tall man. This tall man had slick black hair with not a one out of place. He was dressed casually, in gray sweatpants and a black tank top along with white and black sneakers. Both of them were already looking her way when she had walked in, having been alerted that she was home. The man looked familiar but Roxanne couldn't place him.

Grandmother hopped off the stool and ran over to hug Roxanne. She said a lot of I'm sorry and things of that nature but Roxanne continued to look at this man, what was bothering her so?

"Hey Rox," the man said, and that was when she saw it. No, he wasn't chubby anymore, or sloppy, or—heck—he was incredibly attractive. But the way he smiled, the way his cheeks bunched up against the corners of his mouth; it was unmistakably Wes.

"Holy. Greshing. Sesh!"