Silhouette

"Aren't you worried your two technology-aligned subordinates will get at each other's throats?"

Mesker Duskenfer the Third, respected demonologist and pyromancer, was as nonchalant as always when making conversation, despite the menagerie of blazing beasts he had conjured to fight Silhouette, commanded safely from the safety of the pillar of golden flames he hid within.

"I trust them to want to prove they're better than the other with their work rather than their fists."

James' answer was just as oddly calm as he ordered his own army of darkness to fend off the burning creatures. Well, in his case his soldiers weren't truly summoned entities, but rather merely him shaping his body as such, relying on his more advanced multitasking and subconscious to form various monsters and warriors of solid shadows to fight like sock puppets. It wasn't as effective in single combat as his usual strategy, but it would be incredibly useful to deal with multiple opponents strong enough to fend off his go-to wave of darkness when dealing with thugs and hired muscle.

Another benefit of this form of training was increasing his pain tolerance. James was already more resilient in this body than he was in his past life, and he had shrugged off things that would have likely knocked him out as a human, but Mesker's unique mixture of holy and demonic flames reminded him that even faint flinches or involuntary urges to stay back could be devastating in a fight. He had ended one of their bouts by throwing himself in the protective wall of flames the pyromancer kept around him, for instance, though he would very much like to avoid repeating that particular feat if possible.

Even an idle chat like they were engaging with was part of the training. James knew better than to monologue like a narcissistic idiot, generally only speaking in a fight to gain time, but trying to distract an opponent would still be distracting. Also, as a leader, he could need to make choices and give orders while in the middle of a battle he couldn't disengage from.

"If you say so. I must say, balancing two men of such high intellect and grand ego must be quite the hassle."

A shark of embers and heat chomped down on a vague mimicry of a dragon made of shadows.

"They are... A handful, that is true. But they're both good people and good workers, just too hardheaded to ever acknowledge they're more similar to one another than either would like to admit. I understand they likely won't ever become friends, but hopefully, some exposure therapy will at least force them to be able to stay within one room without insulting each other for over an hour."

A black hand crushed a blazing bird in its grip, snuffing out its light.

"I see, I see. Say, do you have plans to recruit a magical expert on your team permanently? Not that I don't enjoy tutoring you-"

"For a hefty price."

"But I think you'll find a mere consultant will never be enough for your enterprise."

"Hopefully the recruits trickling in will help build a proper magical business over at the Penumbral Palace. They have already shown great talent, they just need time, support, and experience."

"I was not referring to your legal business, but everything else. Unless you plan on integrating your new recruits into your schemes."

"You speak as though I were a Villain, Mesker. And no, I won't."

"Oh, do not misunderstand, I do believe you are doing more good than harm for this city. If anything, I have a feeling Zalcien has a brighter future on the horizon with you around. Ironic, considering your affinity for the dark. But even you have to acknowledge that many of your plans go against the law, and some are morally questionable. I will never fault a viper for using its venom, but the gangrene its bite causes is unsettling all the same."

Much like two serpents, one made of flames and the other of shadows, were wrapped around one another, fighting, hissing, and biting.

"I do what I must to keep me and mine safe and happy. I have no great design of taking over the city or anything of the sort. Purging Zalcien's worst elements is merely a way to guarantee this, and even then you'll notice I make sure to rattle before I strike those that pose a threat."

"Yes. But I do remember you spouting great hopes of building a place where all would be welcome and would benefit from the same safety, so long as they followed your rules."

"Isn't this what the Shadow Den is? I would say I already succeeded, then."

"It is a first draft. A successful one, mind you, but even you can't deny your need for expansion. You want more. You grow. Soon, that orphanage won't be enough anymore for those who flee the light to your domain."

"I grow as I need to keep away the dangers at my doorstep. I gather the resources I need to fend them off and put them down. When no one threatens me, I will have no more need for expansion. That said, for now, all I need is to build and buy more."

"You are delusional if you think there will ever be a point where none dare attack you. But fine, let us pretend there is. You may grow stronger, you may cover new territory, but like every empire, your problem is your people. You have a loyal group, and they too are getting better, but they aren't enough to cover your whole dominion. You need more. You need outsiders, those who haven't earned your trust. And it works fine enough for now, but soon you will reach a point where you will have more important positions and responsibilities than you have trusted subordinates. What then?"

"There will be those who joined me who will have earned my trust by then."

"Yes. But that number won't grow as fast as you need. And don't forget that no one is permanent. There will be those who will leave you, one way or another."

James stayed silent as a leviathan of darkness rose from the ground to devour a familiar burning bear, the small shadowy knight riding atop the great beast firing black balls and impossible sword slashes to keep the other blazing beasts away.

"Then I suppose I will have to work on making sure that number grows faster."

"There is still the problem of quality."

"I can train those who need it."

"A necessary process, but there is a fundamental level of talent that cannot be taught, no matter what, regardless of Cores and Aspects. Do you think any mage could combine demonic and holy magics so easily? No. It took hard work, for sure, but even archmages with centuries or even millennia of life struggle to replicate the feat. In turn, they have strengths I do not have. We are all unique, for better and worse."

"Then I will convince those I need to join and trust me."

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"Ah, but the problem isn't their trust, though it is important to keep in mind. The problem is how willing you are to believe in their loyalty. And that, my friend, is one hurdle you cannot overcome with brute strength. Not unless you use your talents, and I know you well enough to know you find this distasteful. When was the last time you used it on someone who wasn't your enemy, who wasn't converted instead of killed?"

"Mischief needed the boost to their already developed intelligence and to able to communicate. Any physical boon can be replicated with armor, like the ones the Commando wears."

"But there is also the guaranteed loyalty. And lest we forget, your rat gained more than merely black fur. That new arm of his is impressive. Not unique, many mages have achieved a similar feat of replicating an elemental limb as a prosthetic, but it can do things no armor can."

"You underestimate Techlord's skills."

"And you underestimate the things that arm can do. That, or you live in denial. I am not telling you to throw your morals aside and turn all you see into darkness you can command, your restraint is why I am your ally, but there comes a point where the hydra has to stop fearing to lose its head."

"You are in quite the metaphorical mood, Mesker."

"And you quite the evasive one. Amusing, since you aren't the one doing the dodging today."

"They are still parts of me, Mesker, even if the goal is to pretend otherwise. I feel every cut. Every burn."

"Yes, yes, I know. But you aren't using your main body today."

"There is no main body, Mesker. Only me. All the way down."

"Oh? And what could happen if I cut you in half? If I disrupted the way these things are connected to you through the shadows on the ground?"

"My consciousness will automatically shift to the largest piece of me, though I can choose not to. That, and the pieces will try their best to join back with me."

"Oh? And how do you make sure you won't be shifted into a trap by a well-placed cut?"

"The advantage of being able to shift between the states of matter and a more ephemeral form is that it's easy to hide a good chunk of yourself. Does it seem like I have enough body mass to form so many creatures usually? My default look is quite thin if you ignore the shoulders."

"Ah, I was under the impression you relied on the same trick as during that one training lesson when you mixed your shadow flesh with summoned magical darkness to create a larger body."

"I do still employ it, though I'm mindful of your advice on the consequences of doing such a thing and being hit by anti-magic weaponry. But there is a lot more of me than it appears at first glance, I just make sure to stay light."

"Good. In any case, before we diverted to the topic of the mechanics of your form, what I was trying to say is that you either need to be more trusting, which I doubt you can manage given your personality, or that you need to use your more unsavory abilities more often. They would be a safe way of recruiting remarkable personnel while ensuring loyalty."

"I would rather not hunt for prospective recruits and force them into servitude. Not to mention, I wouldn't be able to hide the change in those already in the public's eye, which would draw Zalcien's gaze to what I can do. The Union and the Villains' gaze. I'd rather they'd not learn any of it. I rather like being unbound myself."

"You do not need to let them be seen, at least not what became of them. Like you do your Infused units. Keep those elites hidden in secure locations or give them each a personalized armor to cover their transformed bodies and voilà. That being said, I do recall warning you quite a few times that a secret like Transformation couldn't be hidden forever. There are already plenty of rumors, considering the sheer quantity of darkness-aligned materials you pull out of seemingly nowhere. I'm fairly certain some of the most important people in Zalcien are already aware, they just have no reason to act on it."

"There is still a difference between producing high quantities of shadow metal and spiriting people away who come back wrong, changed, subservient."

"I suppose. Once again, I do not fault you for playing by the rules, that is very honorable conduct and you have shown you were willing to be underhanded to ensure you reached your goals when necessary. I merely think you've been playing it too safe, too reactive rather than proactive. But that is your life, your business, your fate to decide. I am merely an aid, a helping hand."

"One that costs a pretty penny."

"All the more reason to find your own personal mage, an all-time replacement."

"I would still require your services, Mesker. You are the person who is not one of mine that I trust the most. Even with a loyal wizard willing to handle my darker deals at my beck and call, I would call on you."

"Hmph. Flattery won't get you a discount, Silhouette."

"But perhaps friendship will."

Both men chuckled as the last of their respective creations fused into two titans, a Kraken of darkness on one side and a radiant phoenix of holy flames with purple trails of malicious powers blazing between its feathers on the other, each beast easily taller than the surrounding buildings in this little arena they had sprung up in a former square of the abandoned city. Tentacles shot up to bind the avian construct as fire rained down from the dark sky, illuminating the perpetual false underground world of the ruins.

"I will admit, my friend, I have done more for you than I would for a normal client."

"And all the same, I understand you won't go beyond that. As you so eloquently put it, our fates are ours to define, and your path is merely close to mine, not part of it."

"Ah. To think I would gain such a pleasant acquaintance from merely wanting petty revenge on Runar. Had I decided not to help you bring him down, I don't think we would be in this situation today."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Life has taught me that the past is behind us, no matter how we may wish otherwise. We must look to the future."

"And don't forget the present. I know many who lost their way by ignoring the world as it is."

"Do not worry, I have plenty to remind me. Even if I wanted to, the present will never leave me alone for long."

As the elemental titans clashed, tearing each other apart, the two men controlling them noticed something approaching. To be precise, Mesker felt the rituals he had placed before they began their spar alert him while Silhouette's senses perceived a figure approaching, unable to determine anything more than its humanoid shape at this distance.

The fighters dismissed their creations, the flaming body of the phoenix falling apart into embers that returned to his golden wooden staff as the burning pillar surrounding him vanished while the black cephalopod turned to tar, melting down as it rejoined with Silhouette's shadow, all the while the two men walked closer to each other, uniting on their way to the mysterious intruder on their training.

"It's humanoid, I cannot tell much more from the shadows alone. A little slow, perhaps, though it could merely be trying to be discreet."

"Its mana reeks of death. Undeath. While it'd be foolish of me to tell you to lower your guard, I have a feeling we won't have a fight on our hands. Though I am curious, for it is the thing I believe it to be, then its activity now is... Unusual."

The thing chose this moment to stumble his way out from behind a house some distance away, its clumsy gait showing James' worries of stealth were unfounded. If anything, he felt a little silly to have been even briefly unnerved by the thing. Still, it would be stupid of him to underestimate it, no matter how... Poorly maintained it looked.

For shuffling its way toward them was what James assumed to be a zombie. It fit the bill, rotten flesh, exposed bone, grey unfocused eyes, senseless groaning... It certainly seemed to match. The only strange thing was the oddly well-preserved old-timey mailman uniform it wore. It wasn't clean, with stains and dust on its textile, but it was in a much better shape than its wearer. The thing in the best shape was its leather postbag, the item looking almost new compared to the rest.

It took a few minutes for the zombie to reach them, both from the distance it had to travel and its struggles when it came to locomotion. It stopped and its empty gaze alternated between the two, a hand raised and shakily pointing from one to the other again and again. It finally stopped on Silhouette, bringing its hand up and down a few times before reaching into its postbag, dragging out an unexpectedly white envelope, and handing it to him. A black tentacle rose from the ground to take it, and a few moments after it was out of its hands - likely the time it took for the moving corpse to realize that fact - the zombie saluted, the gesture surprisingly fast and accurate for once, before walking back the way it came.

"What... was that?"

"Doctor Bones' mailmen. One of them, at least. They can't be impersonated, they have the knack for tracking their letters' recipients, and they are loyal. Not to mention, the delivery will be made, no matter what. Even if it can be on the slower end of things. Normally they come around to visit everyone's bases, to make sure they still play nice, to answer the mandatory surveys, and to pick up the rent. However, there should still be some time before that, and the fact it only had something for you rather than us both... Well, I have a feeling this is special."

James studied the letter in his tendril, sealed with wax and with "Silhouette" written on it.

"I told you the present doesn't leave me alone."