Chapter 03.0-03.1: Lanesdale

Chapter 03.0: New Perspective

The rest of his first shift was uneventful: giving tickets, following false leads, eating a light salad, and repressing the dark deeds he had performed. Max spent the time just in a haze and distracted until the series of loud thumps on the divider got his attention. It was then that he suddenly remembered Susa! Stone drove to the nearest empty parking before sliding the hatch between them open, "Hey there! So, what the fuck is going on, Officer!?"

"I am sorry." Max genuinely could not think of anything else to say. Instead, his attention was more split on mentally handling committing the two greatest sins one could do over carrying a conversation.

"Wait, what?! Are you fucking serious? You murdered my husband, put me in handcuffs too tightly and lied to the police officers and me on the radio. To top it all off, you kept me in the back of your car for over three hours, and all you have to say is sorry. I know you are sorry, but how about doing something useful like taking the handcuffs off me or getting me something to eat, damnit!" In a display of joint-breaking flexibility infamous to the Pest, Susa had moved her cuffed hands from around her back to slam the cuffs on the metal divider. Thankfully the cuffs were not put on too tightly but just enough that the skin around the cuff was a dull red which looked distressing against her grey pigmentation. Once he removed her handcuffs, Maxwell could see the flesh of her hands pulsing. Susa only gave him a huff once she was freed.

"The handcuffs and putting you back here for so long was a simple slip-up on my part. I am going to keep my end of the deal and not put you in holding--"

"Which you might as well have but continue." And so Max did, completely ignoring the snarkiness in her tone as he explained himself, "And! I am trying to ensure you are not sent to prison for false charges. They know I shot Logan because cops are the only ones with access to this firepower. They will try pinning Leanne's murder on you, but since human and nonhuman relations are so poor, I think I can get away with pinning it on Logan. Now, as far as killing your husband. Well..." Susa's eyes told him she was expecting him to say more before his voice trailed off. Max was the first one to break eye contact. They stewed in their silence. Static from his radio broke the air to warn him of someone trying to contact him.

"M-Lion calling Maxie! Having trouble spotting crime out there? Lucky you because we are getting calls like crazy right now!" Mariyah giddily announces, to Max's surprise. He was going to express that before Susa interjected, "Mariyah?! Is that you?!"

"Susa?! Are you still in the police car?! Max, are you there? What is going on?" Any trace of happiness in her tone disappeared as she pointlessly whispered those questions. Max answered sarcastically in the same hushed manner, "Mariyah, I am here. It's a long story that I will explain tomorrow morning, but I need you to do me a favour. I am taking the car back home with me. Can you report that I turned it in? I'll turn it in tomorrow night." 

"O-Of course! I need you to do me a favour too. There is a call for backup at 322 Lanesdale Avenue! It is just three blocks away!" Max closes the hatch immediately before turning on the sirens. Mariyah had already sent the address to his GPS, "I am coming! G-25, over and out!" Susa's complaints were drowned out entirely by the sound of his wheels tearing through the streets.

Chapter 03.1 322 Lanesdale Avenue

Another sign that sleep deprivation was messing with Maxwell's brain was when he only recognized the address after seeing the building. In front of him was an ageing factory dubbed a 'Cycs Shop' by the M.H.P.D. James' 'business' that Max had frequented in his undercover investigation last month. The sandstone brickwork had started to crumble from years of standing as thick ropes of vegetation crept along the surface of it. The busted windows were also boarded up with several layers of planks. Everything about the building was outdated compared to the human-ran variant. What exactly did this factory make? It was illegally used to mass-produce the prosthetic limbs, commonly called cycs/automail, that all Tainted/amputees eventually obtained. James not only illegally created cycs without a license, but the ones he created always were weaponized.

Cornwell was cracking down on James, but there were only five police cars: G-72+, H-16, A-07+, B-77-, and I-43. The type of cars that he saw was distressing. Every unit that ended with a '+' was a cop car that was only called for support and came to the scene with medical supplies and top-notch surgery experience. Every unit with a '-' was the exact opposite, with specialized training against nonhuman forces. The occasional explosive sound of gunfire would shake the boarded-up windows.

One thing about making friends with a Demonkin is that Stone already knew what to be prepared for. A pair of handcuffs with a silvery-blue sheen was on the passenger seat floor. Cornwell knew his stuff. These cuffs were designed especially for Flame Users. Not underestimating James, he reloaded the spent bullets in his Dragoon Blundershot. It was then that he heard knocking behind him. Susa desperately bangs on the backseat divider; not in a rush to die, Max decides to open the hatch. Her grey, wooden-tattooed arms went to hold the hatch open, "Hey! Let me out, please! I can't be here!"

"Oh." Max yawned, shaking himself awake, "My bad, I thought you wanted to say something important. Move your hands."

"Pretty please! I owe the owner of this place a shit ton of money!"

"Or I am shooting them off."

"Then why open the hatch?!"

"Cause I have plenty of bullets." This little conversation made him remember that he had forgotten to turn the safety off, a solid mechanical click ringing off in the car when he fixed this, "Arsehole!"

"Five!"

"Just don't put James back here, please?!"

"Four!"

"I need to get out of--"

"Three!"

"You aren't even a real--"

"One!" Max ended his sentence by poking her wrist with the business end of his pistol! Susa finally took the hint and moved her arms, not before emitting an alien clicking sound that felt like it belonged to a giant insect.

It sounded like someone was unhinging their jaw, hissing to the point where it would turn a human throat raw within seconds and clicking with a tongue simultaneously! Slamming the hatch was not enough to block out the almost deafening inhuman sounds she was making with her mouth.

Once Max was out of the car, he had to put his gun in its holster to cover his ears. It was not what Max heard that made him move away but what he saw. Anyone in Muruya knows that familiar glow of a fire. Red Flames cast over the streets, brighter than any natural fire could ever burn.

Three men were the first thing to greet him in the standoff that was taking place inside the deserted burning factory. One was a plainclothes cop like him, wrapped up with a bloody bandage over his midsection and trying fruitlessly to stand up to greet Max. His leg appeared dislocated, and his skin was pale due to blood loss. The other one had crimson-stained, messy gauze going up and down the length of his arms with a functioning Battle Gauntlet for '-' ranked Officers laying next to him. A face that looks like it has been merged into his helmet due to intense heat. The '+' officer had an entire forearm missing at the left elbow, but her wound was neatly bandaged. An M.P.H.D helmet and visor covered most of her features along with the heavily padded outfit. Their support smoked a cigar between her full lips and addressed Max with a grunt after securing the '-' Officer pulse, "Damn, B-77 was a good one... G-25! You are just in time; grab that B.G, and newbie, haul ass!"

The 'newbie' she referred to was another '+' officer in a heavily padded vest and support gear on his back. On A-07+'s back, a device took up most of his upper back like a large pack. It had three four-gallon-sized, pill-shaped containers filled to the brim with water, tar, and riot gas. These containers led to a hefty, high-power hose device that he used to tame the uproaring fire before approaching his commanderess. G-72, the one-armed superior, effortlessly took a drag and spoke simultaneously, "H-77! Sit down and conserve your energy." The plainclothes officer, struggling to stand, finally sat down. She continued while Max marvelled at the sight of the Battle Gauntlet, "Everyone else, with G-25 here, we are going to rush him. He must be running out of ammo and getting desperate if he's using Red Flames to defend himself. Newbie, you follow close behind him, and everyone else provides suppressing fire with I-43! Over and out!"

Everyone responded in kind and unison, "Over and out!"

While everyone ran off to the room beyond, where the occasional gunfire continued, Max was enthralled briefly by the Battle Gauntlet. M.H.P.D Battle Gauntlet was the latest tech to come from their Technomancers. It was sleek in design and aesthetically pleasing. Overall it had the general appearance of a gothic gauntlet but with space between the joints. Between the segments, a dull blue light was seen. Sliding it on his right hand, he felt where the real technological 'magick' was. It was insulated and suctioned around his fingers once his entire hand was in. His Commandress shouted, "Damnit! G-25! Haul ass!"

In the room ahead, there were turned-over conveyor belts and boxes in a makeshift barricade. Metallic, unfinished prosthetics scattered the blood-splattered ground. James was boxed in the corner where an overseer's office was at. There were three corpses of other Demonkin that weren't James near I-43. This left only James standing while the office wall was being strategically blown away. I-43 avoided hitting James but had left one chunk as cover. James had overturned two desks as a flimsy addition to the outside.

Max and the 'newbie' gave each other a nod when G-72 vainly tried to negotiate, "Listen, James, we already have more Backup and all the exits covered. Come out with hands up or--" James replied to her with a blindly thrown, volleyball-sized orb of fire that exploded on one of the wooden boxes several feet from them. The explosion of blistering Red Flame was triple the size of the fire orb. The officers had to cover their eyes as the heatwave felt like it had singed the hair on their flesh. Max and A-07 used that as their signal to bum rush the overseer office that James was holed up in.

A-07 made his way between boxes to reach James' flank. I-43 immediately provided suppression by blowing more holes around the edges of his cover to keep James pinned. Max made a beeline by jumping over the conveyor belts straight to the dilapidated office. Max barrelling forward with his right shoulder into the wall and into absolutely nothing. James rose from behind an upturned table that was right ahead with a look of pure bewilderment, "The hell? Maxwell!?"

James was a Demonkin who had dull red skin with muted golden eyes. They were typically shaded, but Max could see the pure unadulterated hatred in his eyes without any glasses. Jamie had two onyx-coloured horns that sprouted backwards from his forehead before curling once behind his pointed ears. He had curly locks of black hair that were messily hidden under his coal-coloured head wraps. The metal rings around his bloody wrist were the same off-golden colour as Muruyian currency. Jamie was in a pair of grey gym shorts and hardly anything else. James' shirt and wifebeater were wrapped around his right shoulder in a shoddy attempt at bandaging himself. James was among the few people who could compete with him in the gym regarding muscles. Max had the shoulders of gods, and James had the chest. Branded on the left side of his neck was the emblem for a Muruya Heroes with the number 9 incorporated. The sigil for the Muruya Heroes was a recognizable downtrodden Ox, "So this was how you were going to tell me you were a cop, huh? I am going to fuck--"

Max's eyes widened as a thick black substance splattered across the left side of James' body from the proactive '+' officer who used Max's brash entrance to flank him. It sent him stumbling back with a string of curses coming from him. Stone's body moved on its own while James struggled to recompose himself with the tar keeping his left arm glued to his side. With his unarmed fist, he came in with a powerful jab at James' injured shoulder. When Stone's fist connected, Max clenched his Battle Gauntlet-clad hand, and electricity crackled through the air and popped. He howled reflexively, trying to secure a sloppy hook to Maxwell's chin that only struck the nearby wall. A testament to Demonkin's strength when James' injured blow made concrete explode into dust. Jamie's hand got stuck in the wall, with Stone sieging the opportunity. Maxie grabs Jam by his wrist to deliver an electrifying series of punches repeatedly to his bleeding stomach in time with his words, "Backup! G-72! Hurry! Now!"

It eventually took the effort of every officer to keep James down even though he was injured and tarred. Every display of resistance was met with a body blow from Max's Battle Gauntlet. James took twenty-five body blows from the Gauntlets before he went limp. The only reason that Max could get the cuffs on was that James fainted.

The insectile hissing still emitting from his car abruptly stopped when Stone opened the door to throw James in the backseat. He watched briefly as Susa skittered over to the opposite end of the vehicle as if James was radioactive. She was about to speak before he slammed the door in her face. Max turned around; G-72 was there to greet him with the surviving officers behind her, "Thanks for your help, Officer...?"

"Maxwell H. Stone. It was a pleasure, Commandress...." Everyone except for G-72 got a laugh at how he addressed her. His eyes were stuck on her now forearm-less right arm. G-72 gave him a smirk followed by a light punch on the chest, "At ease, Senepole B. Rosie. Remember the name, and do not look at my arm like that. I choose to give it to save that newbie's life. M.P.H.D will provide me with a specialized cyc. Ugh, one second..."

For the first time, she revealed her face by taking off her helmet and visor. Senpole was a nonhuman! She was what people called a Cracker, after the sweetie Animal Crackers, which meant she had both features of human and domesticated animals. Maxwell must have been tired because she looked like she had the characteristics of a cow! Freckles dotted Rosie's face; that looked like it would be more at home on a farmhand. Adorable, oversized, spotted cow ears complimented her face and soft green/brown eyes yet contrasted hard with her hairstyle. It was shaved on one side and spiked what remained to give an air of intimidation to her. Maxwell respected that she earned the right to express her hairstyle as he did, but her body dissolved the words from his mouth. The danger of their situation made him unaware of how bountiful her chest was, which looked lewder due to the heavy padding she wore. Senpole had his wife's haunches except those made of muscle instead of fat. A wide smile on her full lips as her hips swayed to make her whip-like, fur-tipped tail wag. Tucking her helmet under her arms as Rosie spoke with a sigh, "Fuck, I sweat more than a whore in church in this outfit. Doesn't help that the red fucker was flinging fireballs. Are you guys fine?"

She turned away from Max to give him several eyefuls of her rear. Coco must have still been in effect as he daydreamed about roughly groping her tightly-clad backside. Stone's lack of sleep was not helped as he stiffened up at seeing Senpole snap at him, all eyes on the expressionless emotion on his face. Rosie gave him an expressive eyebrow wiggle, "Wow, you look like you could use some sleep, G-- I mean Max. Keep the Battle Gauntlet. I'll run it by Cornwell while you turn that scumbag in."

"Wait, don't I need training--" She cut him off with a wave of his hand before gesturing over to his car. Senpole was already heading towards her own, "It is a gift. The minus officer won't be using it anyways, plus you seem to get the gist. Over and out."

Everyone responded in kind before parting ways.