What occurred after Kima Myers declared that she would leave behind June and Ace Wilder at the courthouse? Well, she became a citywide known author, renting out an apartment space to work on multiple manuscripts and push out entertainment for the general public. These books never really got off the ground, and almost no one besides the publishing team reluctantly read them. Well, that was until a miracle occurred. Shrouded in shadows, the screen reflected into his eyes a sight that could never be forgotten.
The teenage girl bent over as she spilled out contents from her fridge, simply attempting to recreate the same breakfast she had early yesterday morning. A simple motion, alone in the apartment she'd bought, she had no reason to be suspicious.
"Sir, what should we do?" Asked a man within the shadows, arms locked behind his back, standing right behind the Head's signature throne-like chair.
"I believe… this girl originates from the Riverton Capital - the hybrid island the US was so desperate to bit a chunk out of. She could be a useful asset to us, if we still intend to battle against the Founder across the sea from the Remnants' stronghold," Every once in a lifetime, the Head rose from his seat as if a King standing from his throne to grace his subjects with his divine presence.
The man enveloped in darkness kneeled to the glorious body of the Head, mimicking his moves with a kneeling motion of his own, a wrinkled hand brushed against his face. The way a father would, to the face of his son, as if that elderly palm was attracted by some indescribable force he couldn't understand, the man needn't dare shiver. Though the Head was surely holy and believed in a sort of god, whichever one it may be, there was no mistaking the chills sprinting up, following downward on his spine. Just breathing the wrong way- would mean his death. But even so, human nature was to survive, no matter the circumstances, so why did he remain at this godforsaken job where just kneeling to your supervisor brought your life at risk?
'Why am I still here..?' He thought with the Head's crumbled hand against his face, 'I don't know, but it's like there's some otherwordly voice within me. Some emboldened entity dwindling forevermore, but the feeling it spreads isn't dread or despair, for rather, it was like my future was calling out to me from the distant path of my life's road. Saying 'this is my destiny.'
And so, on a one-way course with no way to return to the former, the unknown subordinate set out on a goal to chain down but another future prisoner to the cuffs of the Bureau's widespread manipulation. With that variable taken care of, the Head returned to his seat, knuckles sinking into his skin so he could slouch with an apparent arrogance. For that single screen, immorally spying on that innocent young woman, split apart to several others. Their faces, like his own, weren't to be revealed by any external light, so, for the safety of their identities- their communications continued with the blackened environment.
"The time has come. When the time is right, we shall execute the plan and declare our rule over this dominion, once and for all."
As some predators did, they watched from the shadows to stalk their prey, the ones they deemed worthy enough to name their future rations. Always watching, listening everywhere, even with the States fractured as they were now, the New World Order remained ever-powerful. Collective nods from the remaining members were just enough for him to get the silent affirmation, the simplest tap of a button being the cause for the monitor's reversion to showing nothing, the Head, finally, sat up straight.
Taking his hair out the bun with a yank at the tie keeping it up, an elbow kept him propped up, fingers scratching at his chin, the Jester, once more, had infiltrated with ease.
"What a pain. Old fools love to act important even when they're just prolonging traditions. Well, I know you'll hate me, Ace… but you don't know I just did the biggest favor of your life."
Icarus rose from the chimera throne, light bulb flickering, the momentary illumination just bright enough to reveal the room's floor littered with multilayer corpses, bathing in puddles of their cold blood. The door he exited from, was almost refreshing, feeling the nearing chill from the overhead winter singe at his sides with an almost burning sensation, winds brushing against his exposed abs. The stars twinkling against that blackened horizon, the moon shining its snowy shade onto his muscular figure, barely exposed from the trench coat.
"What a beautiful night," Chrollo said, gazing at the Capital's city lights alighting that overgrowing metropolis forevermore.
Icarus couldn't resist the urge to take out that book of his, a candle manifesting beside him, planted carefully onto a wooden box, the Jester, seated on a magically-appearing chair, read back the stanzas written just one night prior. There was no voice to recall these written lines stacked so neatly, but even so, it was as though the angelic chords of the harp were played as another lucky candidate was swept away by the golden winds of God's love.
'I am surrounded by insects.
Their sizes insignificant, their power unimaginable
They send my skin into an irritating itch
But even so, I cannot swat them away
I stay here, idling forevermore,
Awaiting as they swarm not only my body but digging deeper
As if to envelop my soul; mimicking the sun's light
In the wake of day
For the morning's twilight shining onto my face
Not only brightens the overseeing horizon
But the embers of my flickering spirit
Now, they, too, experience
My bewildering, unpredictable warmth
Kept within… the chambers of my soul.'
These lines were formed by the Jester, who, self-centered being he was, couldn't help but cry at the sight of overlooking his poetry, a single tear tracing down his cheek to reach and drop off his chin.
"I truly am so wonderful. I take such pride in everything I do… I am such a demon. Heh."
And from that point on, the way things moved was clearer than ever before. Maybe not to his pawns, like individual pieces used by the game master on a chessboard, but he couldn't help but smirk however menacingly just staring off into the distant whereabouts of endless space.
'What's this feeling?' He thought to ask himself, 'Why do I feel so… happy? So relaxed- peaceful.'
The scriptures continued to be written as the day would soon come when the history of this world would title a book's cover. Perhaps that was what he felt, then. That this lonely moment, with none of his Deck by his side, belonged to the domain of legend.
The Fool takes the Head.
As we know, the order Chrollo gave, masquerading as the Head, would come to fruition. The subordinate commanded would offer Kima riches and fame, however, for a cost.
"What cost?" Kima asked, in the comfort of her own home, werewolf by her side as she sat in front of her TV, back sinking into that cushioned seat.
"I… I've not been able to disclose it. When the time is right, we'll use you for the sake of our selfishness. By the World's Order, this will be a righteous cause, I promise you on America's great name."
In the present, her fingers were typing away against the keyboard, it felt like her mind wasn't even here- like every brain cell possible was racing to come up with the best possible words. For this book wasn't like any others she'd authored before, all Myers could think about was that past, when she accepted that offer- almost half a year ago.
'I was so selfish. I gave up my freedom for the sake of betterment and riches like any other king would sacrifice his subjects for his gain. Is that the person I am? To enslave me for the betterment of myself and only me? Those words Katie told to me last week ring out like a deafening scream in my mind…'
'Do you think anyone gives a shit about your writings? The Bureau put you at the top because you're useful to them.'
Surely, even if the Head was a placeholder for the true mastermind of this lengthy charade all-encompassing the entire Capital, the World Order would've predicted Katie coming to them. Not to mention the unpredictable variable… the Wildcard. Kim could only stare ahead, the aching below her fingers growing exponentially to the point she could feel her bones burning. Maybe, with enough time, her skin would peel away, and she'd be typing with her extremities' bones.
That being said, beings with that much power, dwelling in shadows, would sure to be arrogant. There was no secret they'd manipulated the publishers and masses to ensure enough publicity surrounded the books manufactured to satisfy Kima, but there was one thing she was sure of. None of the puppets the Bureau and World Order manipulated… had so much as skimmed a simple paragraph from her books. Essential to the goal of not herself, but the organization she belonged to, on this day, while June and Jefferson were hanging on a roof far in the distance to her penthouse- there he stood, near her door. The Scarlet King.
"Did you do what I told you?" The King's voice was smooth, but uncaring as the tone was harsh, emphasizing the letters in his words,
"Yeah. Should be ready by tomorrow, maybe early mornin' the day after. Does that suffice, Ace?" Kim queried, to which the Ruler of Riot dug into his hoodie's conjoined pouch, and revealed a card.
"It does. You're a member of Riot, now. You'll be working with Katie and me on the frontlines. I appoint you as lieutenant of Squad Black. Happy, now?" Ace swatted the rectangular card from between his fingers, and like the way a cat would always touch their feet after descending a great distance, Kima caught it with ease.
"I'm thrilled, can't cha tell, 'babe'?" Kim sarcastically teased an agitated Wilder having already turned his back on the past he'd dated.
"Don't try and get friendly with me, Myers. I'm not so kind I'd forgive someone I loved abandon me, not to mention my little sister. I'm not Amara. We may work together, I might lay down my life to ensure you live, but even so, I want to ensure one point is stabbed into your brain. I… hate you."
She'd felt it before; something akin to a knife penetrating her flesh, sinking further into her skin, as if it'd dive deeper to stab into her heart. She could feel that crack manufactured start to spread, almost like a plague infecting a crowd of ignorance. But even so, as his words drove her to tears, how could she blame him? That declaration was filled with the undeniable truth. However, all she could do was weep, faced with her weakness she couldn't avoid before her eyes… what more could anyone do? She was utterly and completely alone.
More than anyone, though, humans' selfishness was to be underestimated, for even within his hearts' depths- Ace couldn't drive it away. Biting his nail, back against the door engraved with symbols from a forgotten time, Wilder's breath wasn't shaky. Rather, imagine a weight slapped away from holding his shoulders like the world, finally, despite how many untrue that statement was, he could be free of her, at long last.
From that point on, it was strictly business.
On April 26th, 2022, a new book by infamous author Kima Myers had gone public to bookstores widespread around the Capital. This publishing was differing from the others in the way that Kim held a public press conference to the world with a government officer donning all black stood behind her as she announced at the podium.
Some had gathered, yet the broadcast had intruded the regularly scheduled programs normal citizens were watching into the comfort of their own homes. The words formed by the ink hidden within that utensil bed were not of her writing skills… she recognized this handwriting.
She could feel her breath whisk away from her lungs as if she were surrounded by the chaotic waves of a typhoon overpowering her body. And yet, even when she had the chance to resume her presentation as normal, she continued with the following words. Perhaps… they were what changed the world that day, maybe it was that maybe it was the World Order's underestimation of her irritation, or how much respect Ace led. Nevertheless, the next words, broadcast widespread, never to be avoided by those who held electronics, would alter the structure of the Evolutionary world.
"My name is Kima Myers. Usually, I'd say you all know my name, however, I doubt it. I am the daughter of Whitney Myers, who was the student of the Requiem Reaper and the best friend of the Judge. I control the vast territory of beasts to ever exist in this ever-expanding world I inhabit. That last part… I'm sure you know. I was the accomplice in the Deck incident at the Smithsonian's grand opening that Ace Wilder was the main suspect in. I'm deeply grateful I'm able to announce this today- the release of a book I've been working on for so long. Its title is 'Truth.' It's been sent to news stations all over the Capital, and it holds the truth of the conspiracies that occurred right under the nose of the public. We are Riot, and we will ensure… the end of oppression!"
To Be Continued.