Richard opted not to speak at first, letting them all explain themselves to the best of their individual ability. It was more than a gesture of politeness he extended. There were so many things a person could learn by simply watching another as they spoke. Once the initial discomfort wore off, people fell into old habits. Hand movements, eye contact, their tone and inflection. Each one of those things was but a small facet of an individual that painted a larger picture. They were kernels of knowledge that Richard painstakingly collected and kept close at hand. Recollections that let him see through a person should they choose to lie to him.
Of course, some behaviors weren't particular to an individual. Humans typically could be counted on to behave in the same manner under the same conditions. That was how he knew that the three of them were telling the truth...Mostly. Richard's eyes slid towards Bethany and he bit back a smile. The poor girl was clearly hadn't planned on being there. General nervousness aside, her application had clearly been forged. The why didn't matter. There were plenty of reasons to want to take a peek behind Apex's walls. It was the who of the equation he was interested in. Richard wasn't worried about Bethany posing a threat. The girl probably weighed less than a hundred pounds soaking wet. And her physical capabilities left much to be desired. He wasn't even sure if she could tell a lie to save her life. He gave her a bit of credit for trying, however.
"I hope I don't have to put a bullet in one of our own." He thought grimly. The last thing he wanted was to be digging yet another grave and hoped he could stave it off for as long as possible.
"Well, you're definitely all lucky to be here." Matsuko had opted to speak where Richard remained silent. Never one to hold her tongue, the Lieutenant considered it a courtesy that she'd warn people of the dangers that came with pissing her off. "Keep that in mind, because we'd hate for that luck to run out." She scowled only slightly less intense than usual, a good sign. Richard knew Matsuko saw no danger in the three sitting across from them. That and her not having anyone on the floor crying meant that she liked them. A little.
Richard huffed out a small laugh and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, real lucky. We've always got room for new brains in the Research Department. But that's something the Department Head will fill you in on when you meet him." He said. "But you'll need more than enthusiasm here if you want to get ahead. Sure you're interested in what we have here, but are you
ready for it?" He asked. Of course, he knew the answer. As they were, not a single one of them was ready for a damn thing. But that could be fixed. They had no other options when things came down to it.
He arched a brow at Rowan before grunting out. "It's 'Chief.'" This drew a small snicker from Matsuko, and Richard sighed. "I enjoy my job as much as anyone can." He began, folding his arms across his chest. "The pay and benefits are good, I suppose. As for what we, and now you,
do." He shrugged half heartedly. "Well, whatever my wife tells us to do." Richard shared a knowing grin with the younger man. "Trust me. You'll get used to it."
"No, you won't." Matsuko chimed in, nose buried in her phone. "Speaking of your wife. She said she made it home."
Richard cocked his head in the woman's direction, expression morphing into one of mild confusion. "And why is she telling
you that?" He asked, though he had a gnawing suspicion what the answer would be.
"She's still mad at you about this morning." Matsuko responded easily. "And there's something about her getting into a fight with Amy. I don't know who that is, but I guess you both hate her or something."
Richard stamped down the urge to roll his eyes and merely shook his head. "Great." He muttered. While he disliked the HOA as much as Lorette did, he didn't look forward to fielding complaints from them in the coming days. Richard supposed he could start shooting anyone that set foot on their property, but they didn't need any more bad publicity.
Scratching his head and mumbling to himself, Richard set himself back on track. "All right, so you know the regular shit accessible by the public. We manufacture and sell weapons. That's where the biggest chunk of our funds come from. That's covering the cost of operations and research." Richard ticked off on his fingers. "Now the PMC stuff can seem muddy because most folks don't understand what that means. We're not mercenaries. We work for the United States Government and are paid by them. Depending on the job, you might sit on an Oil dig site one day, or shooting rebels in some backwater country the next. But that's not something you three will be doing. Locally, you can expect to be standing around parties or escorting some rich asshole that
isn't your boss all over the place."
Matsuko snickered again, and this time Richard joined her. "Think of that work as face time with the public. You go out, look pretty, and no one thinks you're doing anything weird. Between that and transport, we've got good enough reason to be going places that we normally wouldn't be allowed into. Which means we can cast a wider net for these guys." He pointed at a green viper wound loosely around his neck, and the snake looked up at Richard with notable interest.
"Everything we do publicly is either a front for research and capture, or a means to keep this place up and running. You'll be doing a bit of both as it's necessary to your job description as far as the public is aware. We can't have a bunch of contractors sitting around that don't know how to do their job. Those skills are going to translate well into your roles as Handlers." He waved a hand in the air idly. "You know. The combat skills, shooting, staying calm under pressure. All that shit will help keep you alive for the real reason you're here."
He leaned forward then, gaze sharp as he pointed at each person in turn. "Which is to keep these fuckers from causing trouble. It could be of their own choosing, by accident, or because someone else got the same idea as us. Don't think for a second that we're the only ones doing this shit. We keep a tight handle on the competition and push them out, but believe me, it's only a matter of time before shit gets out. That's what we're preparing for. Not an 'if', but a 'when'."
Richard grinned and tapped his chest. "That's how I got here, after all. I got found out and was pushed into a corner. Afnet and I go way farther back than this place. I'm sure there are plenty of other people out there who can say the same."
The Train slowed its momentum, drifting to a stop, and Richard stood abruptly. "But you don't need to worry about all that nonsense yet. That's my job. Now let's get a move on." He shooed them hurriedly out the sliding doors ahead of the onrush of other passengers, also seeking to escape the confines of the train car. The platform that greeted them did not differ from the first, though the air was noticeably warmer. Richard led them off the platform and bid them all to wait by a closed door while he entered alone. He left them standing there in awkward silence with Matsuko, who looked like she'd rather be anywhere else for an extended few moments before Richard returned.
"We're good, come on in." He said, holding the door open.
The room wasn't overly large, merely a box with yet another door at the other end, and a small booth with a desk behind it. The space beyond seemed filled to the brim with safety equipment of various sorts and the bored-looking woman sitting there said nothing as she slid several hard hats and sets of safety glasses through the hole in the window. Richard passed them out in short order, instructing everyone to keep them on and to stay close.
"It would be really embarrassing if one of you bit it in an accident while we're here." He said. It was their first and only warning.
The hallway beyond was rather nondescript. A long stretch of concrete marred black by countless soot covered boots. Their trek towards the end was uneventful. All that there was to note was a steady increase in temperature and the growing sounds of metal striking metal. One could almost feel it in their bones, a steady thud acting as a backdrop for a crackling hiss and the occasional screech of steel. An oily smoke pervaded the nose, bitter and unpleasant, and Matsuko tried to hide a cough. Whatever their destination, it was hot; it was loud, and it stank to high heaven.
"You get used to the smell." Richard offered unhelpfully. A person would have to be nose blind to get used to the smell of smoke and metal. And perhaps they were those who called the Foundry home. They'd probably long forgotten the scent, or had merely let it become a part of them.
Hanging plastic dividers separated the hallway from what lie within. And suddenly, they were no longer in an office building. All austere offices and shining towers of glass. It was dark despite the size of the place. Several stories of metal and concrete arching high overhead. The only light to be had came from the rows of industrial fans lining the upper walls that led to the outside, and the constant, ominous glow of molten metal.
Here, the noise was almost unbearable and Richard nearly had to shout to be heard. "Welcome to the Foundry. We mold casings for weapons here. The Forge where we make the armor is closer to the back. That's where headed. Stay inside the yellow lines on the floor, and for the love of God, don't touch anything."
The walkways were wide enough to allow foot traffic and the occasional forklift, but beyond those borders near every inch of the floor was cramped with equipment, with only enough room to provide a safe distance from dancing sparks flying from red metal. The people working paid them no mind as they wandered by. Theirs was the kind of work that didn't allow for a lapse in attention. A hand crushed beneath a hydraulic press was something a person could survive. A dip into a pool of molten steel was something nobody wanted. Save for, perhaps, the Daemons working alongside them.
They had no need for safety gear when the overwhelming heat could do them no harm. All that they wore to mark them as employees were some variation of High Vis safety vests that allowed them to be spotted in the ever present gloom. They worked tirelessly over a near endless train of molds on conveyors, pouring steel to be formed into whatever Apex required. The neat lines of offices existed to organize the sale of what they made. It was in the Foundry, and others like it, where the bulk of Apex's money was painstakingly earned.
The noise dulled the closer they got to the back of the massive building, but did not cease. Arhythmic hammering swelled to the forefront, and sparks erupted from planes of hot steel being flattened on anvils. An unseen energy thrummed throughout the area. The Forge was something else altogether. One could spot the recognizable shapes of blades and assorted pieces of armor being shaped, but whatever resemblance to a regular forge there was ended there. A Daemon held each hammer. They pounded at the metal restlessly, folding and shaping it into tools of war. It was sharpened, polished and further assembled by humans, but not a single one to forge the metal themselves.
Richard stopped suddenly, and Matsuko nearly ran into his back. "Hey!" She huffed, but Richard paid her no mind. His eyes scanned the area, squinting in the dim light. "Where the hell is he?" He muttered to himself, clearly seeking someone in particular.
A roar from above nearly cause him to jump out of his skin. They were treated to the sound of something rattling the steel rafters overhead and through the gloom, they could see a massive shadow slithering among them. A high screech like knives on metal pierced the air and an orange glow ignited above their heads.
"WHO? WHO IS'T IN MINE FORGE?" A deep hissing voice called from above. It grew ever closer, ever louder, and ever angrier.
"Strangers art not welcome! Leaveth ere thee findeth yourself in mine own teeth!"
The voice and the creature that came with it were clearly of an archaic sort. Not merely in sound, but in appearance. Tattered wings braced against the floor to support the bony, wretched body of a creature that should have been long dead. If it had been once made of flesh and blood, that was long gone. All that remained was a withered husk, blackened by soot and flame. An ever burning flame raged in its chest, granting it a spark of life that lit its eyes and jaws aglow with untethered fury. Its voice carried strong and sure as the steel being forged nearby and its words were as sharp as blades.
"What is this? What is this?" The scorched Daemon shouted. "Thee hath brought strangers? These folk smelleth free of blood and steel." The Dragon hissed, molten heat dripping from bared fangs at it leered at them. Richard sighed and rubbed his temples. "Would you calm down? They're with me, so they're clear. They'll be needing gear soon."
The Daemon hurrumphed mightily, clearly unimpressed and unconvinced. "These folk are fighting stock?" The Dragon queried. "They seemeth like laughing stock to me."
"Daaaamn." One person who'd been polishing some plate metal said. A few more chuckled.
"Don't be an ass." Richard growled.
"What about me looks like a beast of burden to thee?" The Daemon shot back, as clearly unamused as Richard.
Richard pressed his palms together and sucked in a deep breath. He calmed himself and attempted to broach the subject from another angle.
"These three took down Ki'tal. You know who that is, right?" He pressed.
The Daemon scratched at his bony chin thoughtfully with razor claws. "How couldst I not?" He began. "He shouts his name constantly, as if't be true he'll forget it. Not much of a King in mine own opinion." The Dragon concluded. He extended his neck forward, nudging past Richard to eye Rowan, Sofia, and Bethany with renewed interest.
"Is't true? Didste thee defeat the Fool King?" He asked pointedly.
Richard shoved the Dragon's bony neck aside with a frown. "I just said that they did. And you know the rules, whoever does best in training gets a blade. Now you gonna make 'em one or not? We still have things to do."
The Daemon gave Richard an aside glance before lowering its bulk onto the floor. It reclined in front of them and propped its head up on its paws like hands and gazed at the three. "I can. And I shall. But first Old Rumoi wouldst heareth the story of how they did beat Ki'tal."
