GUN SALAD

Diallo struggled to contain his impatience as he followed the elderly clerk toward one of the many doors behind the GGE’s front desk. The registration process had been long and arduous; being that he was not a citizen of Wesson, it had taken some time to fill out all the necessary paperwork. An hour or more, if he had to guess. Now, finally, the time had come to test his affinity. Apparently, and much to Diallo’s delight, Montrevi was influential enough to have arranged a private room for this purpose. 

…However, he had also assigned a stranger to accompany them–a snowy-haired child with eyes like chipped ice. Thus far, neither Gio nor Ken had offered any kind of explanation for his presence. When he’d asked, they had simply told him he was a colleague of theirs and left it at that. 

It bothered him, of course, but for the moment, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

“How will you conduct this ‘test’?” he asked. The clerk looked up with a twinkle in his eye, then opened the door and stepped aside to admit them.

“You’ll see. I’m off to process your documentation now, but I’ll send someone along to consult with you shortly.”

With that, he departed, leaving Diallo and his entourage to filter into the room and close the door behind them. It was quiet in the consultation chamber–a welcome change from the raucous atmosphere of the entrance hall. 

Sadly, as Diallo was quickly learning, Ken wasn’t the type to abide silence for long.

“Your hand must be cramped up after all that form-filling,” he said with a smirk. “I’ve got no patience for any of that garbage, myself.”

Gio paced in the corner, chuckling to himself as he paused to strike a match. “What you mean t’say is that you’re borderline illiterate.” He brought the flickering flame to the tip of the cigarette dangling from his lips and took a long, indulgent drag before continuing: “Not like our new hire, here. He’s a sharp one, I can tell.”

“Nobody’s hired yet,” the white-haired boy interjected. “The bar has been raised since you two came on board. Were you to apply today, I’m not sure either of you would make it, honestly.”

His frigid gaze shifted to Ken. “Especially you, Viper.”

“Who exactly are you, child?” Diallo snapped. “Why are you here? I was under the impression that only adults would be present for my initiation.”

“He’s here to ice you if you don’t end up having an affinity,” Ken drawled.

“Shut up

, Ken,” the boy hissed. “You speak out of turn. And you too, Truvelan. I outrank you all, and you’d do well to remember it.”

Gio blew a cloud of smoke, missing the child’s face by inches. “Daddy’s boy.”

That did it. The kid went for the weapon on his back–an unusual armament resembling a flamethrower–just as a severe-looking woman in a black pantsuit opened the door. She looked around at them sternly and shut the door, plainly unbothered by the handful of trained killers in her midst.

“If you can’t behave yourselves in here, I will have you escorted out,” she said. “And I doubt very much that Mr. Montrevi would respond well to his hired thugs being banned from the GGE… Especially in light of his recent mayoral bid.”

That shut them up. Viper looked down at his feet, and the child lowered his hand with visible reluctance. 

“You can’t smoke in here,” the woman said, her eyes snapping to Gio. When he simply smiled and exhaled a fresh gout of fumes, though, she was forced to relent with a sigh. “Fine. Let’s make this quick, then. Who here requires my services?”

“That would be me,” Diallo said.

“Very well. Hold out your hand.”

He did so, and she dropped a glassy pearl the size of a gumball into his outstretched hand before reaching into her pocket to produce a magnifying glass… However, the moment the arcan bead met the flesh of his hand, she stopped herself. Even his entourage, who had drifted into various states of disinterest during the proceedings, turned their heads to regard the small sphere in his hand.

It had turned utterly black, as if ink had been injected directly into its translucent core. Evidently this was an unexpected development, because it drew an audible gasp from their attendant’s lips.

“I’ve never seen such a strong hue,” she murmured, stowing her magnifying glass again with shaking hands. “You’re a Gunslinger, alright… And there are only a few weapons in the building that could match such a strong affinity.”

She swallowed and looked to each of them in turn. “Come with me. We’ll have to relocate to one of our test ranges to complete the process.”

Diallo followed her gladly, unable to keep the smile from his face. He’d always known he was destined for great things, and today he had proven it. He wondered, idly, at what sort of weapon he would be gifted with… Hopefully something powerful enough to end his idiot cousin and his noisy little brat once and for all.

Just as he was about to leave the room, he heard a noise. Was that… A growl? He spun to look back at the consultation chamber, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps he’d imagined it?

His gaze lingered on the table for a long moment, but eventually he shrugged and shut the door behind him, carrying on into the main hall. He had little time for trifles, now.

It was time to meet his destiny.

—

Beretta remained there, breathing shallowly, until long after Diallo and his strange new friends had left. She just couldn’t understand it–why would Diallo come here, of all places? And why was he being tested as a potential Gunslinger? 

Was he still out for revenge? If so, her father was in danger. She was in danger. And she’d just spent several minutes hyperventilating mere inches away from his feet! If, at any point, she had made a single noise…

Sniffer whimpered, nuzzling up to her abdomen from his place in her lap. “You!” she whispered, “You bad boy! You almost gave us away!” He had been so noisy that she’d had to lay him aside for most of the conversation, thus rendering him inert. Of course, she’d been so anxious that she’d grabbed him up again toward the end–an act she thoroughly regretted, given the way his growling had caused Diallo to pause in the doorway.

“You are loyal enough, but someone needs to teach you how to be quiet.” She smiled and patted him fondly, staring at the foot of the door the group had left by. “We have to go find Mimi. She will want to know about this!”

The girl crawled out from under the table, hopeful that her uncle and his posse had moved on by now. Then she opened the door and slipped out into the main hall, trying her best to ignore the newly-minted Gunslingers and their amazing new weapons. She couldn’t afford to be distracted right now; if she wanted to tell Mimi what she’d heard, keeping a low profile would have to be her top priority. Fortunately, the clerks were all too busy with their clients to look back over their shoulders at her.

…The security guards, however, were a different story. 

The two guards in question stood just to the left of the main counter, flanking the big double doors that led to the backrooms. Their eyes snapped to her the moment she came into view, and they looked serious. She approached them furtively, trying not to let their stiff postures or smart green uniforms intimidate her.

“What can we do for you, little lady?” said the thick-necked man on the right. “Are you lost?”

Beretta came to a stop before them and reached deep down inside herself, channeling all of the sadness and helplessness she’d felt just moments ago in the consultation room. Her lip quivered and tears sprang to her eyes, and before she knew it, she was primed to deliver the perfect lie:

“I-I… L-LOST MY M-MOOOOOOMMMM!”

She started wailing, then, throwing both guards into a state of chaos as they worked to placate her. They knelt at her side, cooing softly and asking her questions, but Beretta would only point at the doors and yell “SHE’S BACK THERE!”, thwarting their every effort to get more information out of her.

After a minute or two of this, the guards exchanged an uneasy glance. “I can take her back there to find her?” the thick-necked man suggested, prompting a nod of relief from his partner. The man straightened and forced a smile, taking Beretta’s hand in his.

“Come on, then. Let’s go find your mom.”

He led her into the staff-only area, and then, (after some tearful urging on her part) the Gunsmithy. Rows upon rows of forges and assorted tools lined the long, smoky room, and the guard looked around nervously in search of a woman matching Beretta’s babbled description as they walked the length of it. It wasn’t long before they came across Luca, leaning boredly against the wall by one of the gunsmithing stations. 

When Beretta came near he looked up in surprise. She tried her best to discourage any questions or comments by arching her brows pointedly, and it seemed to work; he buttoned his lip and nodded to the guard, who seemed to relax at the sight of another staff member before his attention drifted toward Mimi.

“That’s your mom?” he gasped in disbelief. Beretta followed his gaze, and sure enough, Mimi was there before the forge… But not the Mimi she knew.

A glowing goddess had taken her place, and she toiled away with myriad arms–two of flesh, and several immaterial–to shape the arcan before her into something extraordinary.