Project: Morning Sunrise

Author's note: Some things will make more sense if you read Storm & Stone first, but I intend to write Michael's tale as a mostly standalone series that weaves in and out of the main storyline organically. There will, however, be questions from S&S that get answered here and more might be raised as well, this multiverse is vast and characters don't always know what they think they know. Enjoy!

I should probably open this by saying that I hate job interviews, and I'd been sitting in one all day. It was seven years before Rawn vanished in the cave. Normally, they are a quick in-and-out: you fill out some paperwork, drop a urine sample, answer a few questions, and give them a resume. This job, however, was with a super-secret government organization known only as Project: Morning Sunrise, and this guy now wanted my life story. I'll explain what I do later. For now, back to my story...

"Friday The 13th, when you say it like that, it sounds so officious and foreboding. Don't you agree? Seems people are obsessed with fear over not just that day, but the number 13 itself. Sure, I was a bookworm as a kid, but, I never became obsessed with studying the legends and lore around that number and its dreaded day. No, I left all that foolishness to others because I never seemed to have a single bad Friday the 13th... ever. Oh, make no mistake, I have lived through some really shitty days over the course of my life, it's just that Friday the 13th was never one of them.

"To make matters more interesting, I was born on Friday, December 13th, on the 13th full moon of the year. Hell, most people don't know that we have over 20 years per century where there are 13 lunar cycles instead of 12. To top it off, having the thirteenth full moon that early in the month was also rare, extremely so; to the tune of being multiple millenia apart. To superstitious people, I was basically born under a catastrophic and malevolent conjunction of the stars. Obviously, I was the weird kid in school... the freak. In the end, the details didn't matter much. I was the weird kid, and by extension, an outcast. I did not get picked on, though... much. There were two episodes that set the tone for my tenure in the public school system.

"The first was instigated by a young man named Danny Faulkshire when I was in the fourth grade. Danny was a sixth grader who had decided that a freak like me needed to be put firmly in his place. He made his move while we waited at the street corner for the morning bus to school. Danny came up behind me and shoved me into the street. Everything happened so fast that no-one knew anything had occurred until they heard the tires on the school bus howl against the pavement, and by then it was too late. There had not been any cars on the side of the corner I was pushed into, Danny was not so lucky. He had decided to push me off one corner and escape via the other. He did not expect the bus to be there, however. When he turned and dashed the other way, he ran right in front of the bus which promptly bounced him off its grill after the driver slammed on the brakes. It wasn't all bad, Danny lived. Lived in a full body cast for a while, but he lived just the same. I know, I know... you are probably thinking I'm an ass for not feeling bad for the guy. Hey, he pushed me into the street with the knowledge that I might get hurt. Even now that I'm thirty-three years old, I don't feel bad for the kid and his permanent limp. If that makes me an ass, so be it. I'll own that one."

I couldn't believe it. The man did not even say a word, just nodded at me.

"The second event was a bit more serious, and a lot more final. Nate McCall was a senior offensive tackle on our high school football team and a stone cold bastard. Until he tried to kill me. A few weeks earlier, Nate had been heard talking to his friends about how it was bullshit that I got left completely alone when I was the biggest freak in the entire school. People tried to convince him it was not worth it, but he just would not listen. After the incident, it came out that Nate had been on roids quite heavily and the effects had led to his irrational behavior, but it didn't matter one bit. The consequences were the same: my attacker had the accident instead of me. Nate snuck up behind me one morning after first bell as we passed the stairwell that led down to the first floor of the school. His intent had been to shoulder me down the stairs as we passed and make it look like I tripped. Instead, he stumbled before he could reach me, accidentally shoved me forward and took the tumble himself, whereas I just bounced off the corner of the wall and into the floor. This is where the aforementioned finality comes into play. Nate did not get up from that one... ever. About halfway down, once he had gained some momentum, he went perpendicular to the guardrail and the wall... as opposed to head over ass, and his head ended up wedged between the guardrail's support bars. His neck broke instantly and he died just as fast. I was a sophomore and nobody... I mean no one at all tried to mess with me after that day. Sooner or later, the legend of that incident catches up to me wherever I go, even to this day.

"I did find three close friends in high school, though. Arawn Stonebrook, Ethan Glade, and Raiden Bane. Ray and Rawn took me under their wings when I got fed up and walked out of catholic school at 16 and told my foster parents it was either public school or a GED. They were fellow outcasts at the public school where I wound up.

"I'm aware that your agency already has extensive records on the the rest of the events that have transpired since my thirteenth birthday. Do you mind if we skip what you already know?"

"Yes, though we do wish you would share information about from whom you received your mystical and religious training. We already have information that you studied the arcane under the watch of the Hierophancie.", the interviewer pressed.

I sighed. Enough of this. The dismal gray walls of the no-frills office design in this budgetary black hole were giving me a headache. Well, that and the damn fluorescent lights that filled the building; my eyes never could handle them for long periods of time and this bastard had grilled me for two hours on just my medical history, then spent another two on some sort of psychological exam before we got to this part. Frank is gonna owe me big time for putting up with this asshole. I gave him my warmest smile and my sweetest voice...

"I am well aware of your desire. I'm not sure how you found out about my studies with the Arcane Hierophancie, but I'm not about to break any of my oaths. As I told your director, I'll share that information just as soon as I get a handwritten invitation to start a new NHL expansion in the middle of Abbadon's Furnaces from the fiery old bastard, himself. Now, that's as nicely as I'm going to put it. Do not ask again." I growled.

The man grunted and rolled his eyes, then fidgeted with his paper.

"Very well. There is also the matter of your pay..."

It was my turn for an eye roll, "What about it?"

"It is a bit excessive. We are a government agency and have budget constraints."

"Surely you aren't about to re-open negotiations?"

The man sighed and shook his head.

"Please, Mr. S..."

That pissed me off. It was one thing to press me for information, but these guys were the kind of outfit that gave conspiracy theorists wet dreams. I knew they had money and I was already doing the director a favor... AND the fucker almost said my name! I cut him off before he could finish the first letter.

"Listen here, you overpriced pencil sharpener! I don't know what kind of number-crunching, paper-pushing, bureaucratic purgatory they dragged your sorry ass out of in order to run the numbers for this place, but I am already working for pennies at a half-million per job. I'll not take peanuts! That was a favor to Frank, your director, that you just pissed out the window. Since you want to renegotiate so badly, be my guest. My fee just went up to 3 million per contract. Non-negotiable... and my name... is Amos! I know you've been warned about the curse."

Sorry Frank, I like you but I don't suffer fools well. The man was struck apoplectic by my response. It left me with the clear impression that no one had ever spoken to him so harshly in his life. I didn't much care.

"Absolutely not! The United States Government will not be extorted! This meeting is over and you will leave immediately, Mr..."

AGAIN??? Did this idiot not read his own file on me? I stood quickly and extended my arm toward his face before he could get to my actual name. When I balled my hand into a fist an invisible orb of kinetic energy surrounded the prick's head and snapped his jaw closed so hard his teeth almost cracked, and his lips sealed shut right after. When his eyes went wide and he jumped out of his seat, I rooted his shoes to the floor for shits and giggles...mostly for the giggles.

Okay... entirely for the giggles.

It brought a smile to my face as I watched him realize all too late that he only had two hands, so he thrust one out to break his fall while the other continued desperately to pry open his lips. I laughed when he screamed through his nose all the way to the floor as his feet came out of shoes. I laughed so hard I had to sit back down, when his outstretched arm forced his redirected momentum down onto the other shoulder and slammed the side of his head into the floor. The nasal grunt that was extracted from him by the impact was just too much. It reminded me of an injured goat and left me completely useless. I howled in laughter and fell out of my seat.

When I had collected myself, I stood from the floor and sat astride his chest while he continued to hold his head in pain.

"Ohhhhh, man. You are one colossal dipshit, aren't you?" I snickered. "This curse that you seem to think is a joke? It was designed to torture me, not kill me. The nuts and bolts of it are that you die and I get to watch. You with me so far?"

The stooge's eyes widened a bit and he gave a rapid nod. Good, I finally had his attention.

"Wonderful. Since I don't like watching people die, that means I have to fight. That also means that I get my ass kicked... which is an event this building would not survive... and the person still gets shredded in front of my busted-up ass while I wait for enough strength to return for me to hit my life-alert button."

The asshole's eyes now threatened to pop out of his skull. I was rather pleased with myself at that moment.

"Since you've been such a snotty little prick today, though, I might just save myself the ICU stay and let him have your sorry ass without a fight. Do we understand one another?"

Frank chose that moment to step into the room and answer for him.

"Yes, Amos, I am certain he understands you quite well. I only heard the tail-end of that exchange, but I gather he tried to say your real name?"

Shit, I almost laughed again. I hadn't seen Frank Smith... Hah! Now that I think about it, the name makes perfect sense, but I hadn't seen Frank in almost eight years and he still had that same gentle demeanor of a monk.

"Yeap."

No need for a long explanation. I stood up off of Agent... okay, I am ashamed to admit that I had to look when I got off him. Yes, he got on my nerves that bad all day. Anyway, I got off Agent Peter Kelly's chest and released the kinetic hold on his face and feet.

Frank stared hard at him and explained a few things as the man gathered himself.

"You're lucky he stopped you, Pete. I was there when that curse got put on him ten years ago. The Lord of Tartarus would not have given you a swift end." Frank assured him.

Damned if Agent Kelly didn't stand up and dust himself off, glare first at me and then at Frank, and before anyone had a chance to stop him he blurted out...

"Give me a break, Frank! I know I've seen some weird shit since I got here, but Hades is NOT going to show up just because someone says one of their names in Mr. Satko's presence!"

"... I would not be so certain of that, mortal." said a deep but soft voice from the shadows of a corner.

Well fuck. How the hell does an idiot like that work for an agency like this? No one said a word as Hades stepped out of nothing but the shadows in the corner, adorned in a black himation over a charcoal gray chiton. Atop his head rested a matte black, crestless helm of Italo-Corinthian design. The only decorations were lines of gold trim that bordered the mouth and eye areas, and the overall edges of the helm. The entire outfit seemed to absorb all the light that came in contact with it. I was unimpressed, but, this was our thirteenth meeting and I'd grown accustomed to his entrances.

Naturally, I stepped in front of him and looked him square in the eye. Well, up into his eye-slits anyway, since the Helm of Darkness hid the rest. The godling was nearly seven feet tall and wearing a magical helm I'm not quite six feet, barefoot.

"Hades, old pal... I just can't let you do it. I don't much like the little shit, but he works for my new boss, and I would really hate to create a staffing issue on my first day here. Think we could settle this with an official duel? You and me, one on one, in the parking lot? Zeus can oversee the fight, Poseidon can serve as your witness and Frank will be mine. Everyone here can observe, along with whoever you care to invite, while Petey boy over there can sit with the witnesses for safe keeping since his soul is in the balance... Oh, I almost forgot the last part of the prize... winner gets the eternal, complete, and loyal servitude of the loser."

The warden of Tartarus threw his head back and laughed while, for Pete Kelly, the conversation had just reached the -I've just wet me trousers and the backdoor is picking up stress fractures- stage in a frighteningly short span of time. To prove it, Pete had a growing wet spot on the crotch of his slacks. Hades looked down at me and I could just see the barest hint of mirth in what features were visible through the slits in his helm.

"I accept your challenge, Michael Satko. Since you would be far more useful to me as a slave in the living realms and I know that you lack the capacity to slay me, I assume your victory conditions do not include death?" Hades asked.

"That would be correct. The winner will be the last man standing, loser is unconscious or otherwise incapacitated and unable to continue. Care to call your brothers so we can get this shindig started?"

That caught Hades off guard and he gave me a sidelong glance before he focused his gaze directly on me once more.

"Are you truly so eager to be my eternal slave?"

I just smiled and shrugged.

"Tired of this shit. I'm ready to put an end to this and there is no time like the present. Your brothers... please."

To punctuate my response I turned and with a motion that looked as if I had torn apart the air itself with my bare hands... it was a personal touch that I worked into the spell, opened a portal to the parking lot, then strolled through without another word. It was almost ten minutes before the entirety of the building's occupants all appeared around the perimeter of the parking lot. Hades stood next to Poseidon, still wearing his full regalia, if it could be called that. Greek godlings, like their ancient peoples, tended to dress simply. Thus, Zeus and Poseidon were dressed almost identically to Hades, albeit without helms. I walked over to stand next to Frank and Zeus as more spectators began to filter in, this time from more exotic destinations.

It seemed that half of Mount Olympus and Asgard were there, then there were the random godlings from everywhere and a even a few from places that were lost to antiquity. First, I spied Lady Amaterasu in an elegant white kimono decorated with cherry blossoms, Fujin and Raijin; the Kami of wind and thunder who appeared as Oni, and Ryujin; the dragon kami of the seas in his human form, dressed as an ancient Buddhist monk. Then a chill ran down my spine when I spotted Shiva and Kali accompanied by a contingent of Naga warriors and sorceresses, all garbed in traditional attire. Those two had been quite kind and helpful to me in the past but they could get a little unnerving at times. They only had two arms but their skin really was blue, and to see Kali go on a tirade was terrifying... and then Shiva just lay down on the ground in front of her. The moment her foot touched him, every single time, she snapped out of it and Shiva would soothe her for a moment, then everything would be fine again.

The Naga women were fascinating, sexy, and downright friendly once they got comfortable around a human and... both they and their men were damn handy in a fight. See, where man, myth, and history got it wrong, is that they report the Naga as a race of serpents that could use magic to take on the upper body of a human while retaining the hood of a cobra. They got it wrong and backwards: first, it's a natural ability... not magic, and second, the half-form is their native form. They only turn into full serpents when you really piss them off. I tried to see if there was anyone I recognized among them, but their backs were turned.

Holy fuck, they just kept popping in! Now Osiris, Isis, Anubis, Bast, and Horus? And there's Nyx! I'm not even going to try to name the rest. Let's just call it a who's-still-who of ancient pagan deities. I wondered if Zeus was selling tickets.

"What the hell are you thinking, Mike?" Frank asked when I handed him my black bowler and matching vest.

"What I'm thinking, buddy..." I said just loud enough to get Hades' attention while I stared straight at the slits in his helm while I unbuttoned my white dress shirt and pulled it off, "is that I'm going to beat his ass so bad that Rhea is going to feel it and need conjugal visits with Cronus for a month of Sundays down in Tartarus just so he can fuck the headache out of her."

Zeus guffawed, Hades seethed behind the Helm of Darkness, Poseidon looked like he had somewhere else he'd rather be, and Frank was struck dumb, all by my beautifully faked bravado. Damn, I'd never seen Frank lose his composure before.

"I'm serious, Frank. I got this. Go chill with Petey-boy if you need to, I'll bet he could use the moral support. We can catch up after I'm done here. Now go enjoy the show."

When I handed him my shirt and started to turn toward the open lanes of the parking lot, Frank put his hand on my shoulder and I stopped and looked back. He had a lazy smirk plastered onto his face.

"Mike, I don't know what you are playing at, but make sure you win this. Don't make me the first director of Project: Morning Sunrise to lose an employee before he's even on the books."

I nodded to Frank and turned back. With that, I strode out into the parking lot wearing dress pants and a sleeveless white undershirt, and approached Hades. I had gotten half the distance when the shadows around him coalesced into a blade in his right hand. I snapped my fingers for effect and willed a pulse of magical heat into the blade that was intense enough to vaporize the shadow metal... one of my new tricks, and grinned as I watched Hades cry out and curse while his hand healed.

"C'mon old man, skip the warm-up. We know this dance too well for that bullshit. I'm going to kick your ass in Italian shoes, tailored slacks, and a wife-beater."

The crowd laughed once again and Hades went from seething to enraged. I'd embarrassed him. Good, I needed that for my plan to work.

"I'm not going to enslave you, human. I'm going to kill you and eat your soul slowly over the course of ten thousand years just to make sure you understand what it means to inc..."