Tuesday Afternoon, October 2nd, 2125. Chicago, Illinois. Inheritence Industries of The Braunmen Business Conglomerate.
They drove for another twenty minutes in Ms. Markos unmarked van, through a city plagued by a dozen diseases of the spiritual kind. Even more of the physical as pedestrians sucked on cigarette's spewing foul fumes and drove large cars burning through gallons of caustic diesel. All while passing billboards of business titans buying up land and hosting red carpet events as they gentrified slums and displaced families with real estate loopholes.
They passed small patches of green but most of the forestry was reduced to chlorophyll pods. Black metal cubes filled with green chemicals fluids meant to mimic trees.
Amaru felt his rage rising the longer they spent inside the city of corrosion.
But they'd made it. He knew so as more and more billboards began to feature the name and blurred face of one man. A man he'd seen a few times. Not for good reason.
Ms. Markos and her female Garou pack had completed their mission in delivering Amaru to Mr. Watanokami.
As he stepped out of the van, he found a massive high rise looming over him. Made of glass with silver and black steel guilded edges. It was breathtaking even before taking into account the smaller highrises connected by glass walkways like futuristic spires. It was a castle of the twenty-second century. Fit with its banner in the form of thick booming brand labeling at its helm.
What he assumed was the Watanokami crest or company logo. It was a black eagle descending on a wolf. It seemed German.
He suddenly felt like he was being sent to slaughter.
Not really though.
The presence of weaver spirits was calmer. More organized and docile. They weren't fighting with and working alongside the wyrm spirits. It was more relaxed, but only barely.
Also there were a lot of people outside walking dogs. German breeds. Doberman and shepherds and gigantic wolfish mastiffs.
They eyed him and nodded with respect.
Hesitantly, he returned the gesture before Ms. Markos had a hand at his back.
"Ready?"
Amaru hesitated as he looked back at the van. "This is the place?" He thought.
The women and girls inside waved and flipped him off.
Lexa was at the front seat, "What are you looking at?"
He didn't have the same answer as before. He simply nodded in goodbye. She returned the gesture before rolling the window up and turning up the music.
"She likes you." Ms. Markos said as she led him up the massive cement steps leading up to the building.
"She does?"
"My daughter…..has a distaste for men. For good reason. Her generalization of them as predators, oppressors and vultures comes from a troubled past. I found her on a raid in Brazil. Not my story to tell. The point is, none of us have seen her work with…. Or help, a boy. Or man. Ever. She trusts you. Never betray the trust of a Black Fury. Understand?"
"I haven't fully understood anything since I woke up this morning."
Ms. Markos laughed, "You understand." She adjusted her black blazer and tightened her ponytail as they reached the door.
Two armed guards on each corner remained motionless with their attack dogs as Amaru and Ms. Markos stepped through the revolving doors.
Inside was just as grand as out.
The afternoon setting sun beamed through the windowed walls. The lights shined on and reflected off of men and women in silk and satin suits. But it wasn't the regular suit and tie for them all.
Many men wore sleeveless tunics over white button-ups and overalls.
Again. Culturally German.
He even saw the flag waving beside the American flag from window borders.
Massive two-hundred inch tvs played promotional material in English and German.
Slides and video excerpts of the companies successes flashed by in quick succession.
Speaking of backing successful law firms, professional atheletes— olympians, leading in scientific discoveries relating to the human body and dog breeding. Their scope was massive. And it was all connected to a private school.
Braunmenn Academy.
He saw it through the glass walls at the back of the building.
"You seem confused." Ms. Markos said.
"For someone with a Japanese last name, he sure does flash a lot of German love." Amaru said.
"There's a reason. And in public, do not call him by that name. Call him Braun." Ms. Markos whispered.
Amaru nodded. He remembered the name. It was on the billboards on the way there. He didn't like what he saw attached to the name.
They walked down more hallways until they reached an elevator. She clicked the upward arrow button.
Amaru shivered as he heard weaver spirits skitter along the elevator wires above him.
When the doors opened a large spirit-spider sat in the back corner.
"Fucking— hell…." Amaru jumped.
"Act normal, Warrior." Ms. Markos chided him before pulling him inside.
Amaru entered and shut his eyes to calm himself. Remembering he was there for answers. Among the spiders and spirits.
They rose forty floors before stopping at the top floor.
The door opened and gave way to a single room. It was large— but not breathtaking like the rest of the building. There was no promotional materials or German flags. Just a desk, workout equipment, a map of the city on a whiteboard and a man staring out of a window.
"Braun." Ms. Markos said as they stepped out.
"Anastasia." Braun replied. His voice was smooth. It didn't really fit his build. Even in a suit, Amaru could tell he was densely muscled. His traps were creeping out of his collar. He could see the man's tricep veins through at least three layers of clothing.
He turned around. He was handsome. Clean cut. No beard, trimmed brows, dark green eyes and pale skin with long jet black hair combed into a slick back.
Amaru suddenly understood his last name. And first name. And it made as much sense as it didn't.
He was mixed. Visibly Eurasian. Japanese and German. For reasons unknown to Amaru, he publicly leaned into his German side, and privately embraced the Japanese.
Even when he spoke, Amaru could hear the accent switch forcibly.
"This is the Ahroun?"
Amaru and Ms. Markos turned around to find a woman leaning against the wall next to the elevator behind them.
She was thin and tall with intense dark eyes and platinum blonde hair.
"It is." Ms. Markos said, "Delivered as promised."
"He looks young… and scared." She said.
"He killed a bloodworm, scrotum-sucker." Ms. Markos replied.
Braun smiled and laughed faintly, drawing everyone's attention.
He took it as if it was expected, "The Tribes are a paradox, aren't they?"
Amaru hesitated, realizing the business titan was talking to him.
He went on.
"I mean, the Garou was made for one purpose. Saving Gaia. They're supposed to be heroes— saviors. But they're all made and beholden to slightly different powers. Just enough to hate— to kill, eachother. Why would the Garou be made in such a way?"
"Why is it you?" Amaru asked.
Braun raised an eyebrow in confusion.
"I see you out there. On the big screens. On advertisements. Making big deals. Taking down ghettos and refurbishing them into industrial districts. Everything you've done has damaged earth— I mean, Gaia. What is this? A joke? Is it a test?" Amaru turned and faced Ms. Markos.
She grinned as she eyeballed Braun.
"He's on point, isn't he?" Braun asked her.
"Like a gods damned spear." Ms. Markos said.
Braun took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair, "Mr. Mawh, come join me at the window. It's really a terrible view."
Amaru only came over because of the last bit of his words. And he did so hesitantly as the day began to go from confusing to alarmingly underwhelming.
He had an image of the Garou after hanging with Lexa, Ms. Markos and her band of liberators.
They were warriors— as much as they gave him the label. They traveled cities fighting with their hands and with pen and paper. They saved his life. They slaughtered dark spirits. And then they ended it by delivering him to a business tycoon.
He stood beside Braun. The man smelled like designer colognes soaking designer fabrics.
"You see it, don't you?" Braun said. "You see everything that's got a hold on this city. On this planet, even."
Amaru didn't speak.
"Did you know not all of the Garou can see it so clearly. I've run into some that can't see it at all. They're…. blind." Braun explained.
Amaru was new to it all, but if seeing was believing, he couldn't imagine the confused hell that came from not seeing and only feeling.
"As more of the umbra is destroyed, our connection goes with it." Braun explained.
Amaru looked over at him. Braun was right, it was a terrible view. Up so high, he felt like one of the spiders. Or clouds of dark essence exhaust.
"You don't trust me, do you?" Braun asked without looking at him. He kept his hands behind his back as he gazed, "You find it….. wrong. To be delivered— like an item, to me. A man of wealth and community dismantling for the sake of profit margins."
"Yea." Amaru said.
Braun nodded, "Can I ask you a question, Mr. Mawh?"
"Go ahead."
"Are you familiar with the Samurai?"
"Isn't everyone?" Amaru asked.
Braun chuckled, "Fair. Now I'll ask another. Do you know why the Samurai sported masks resembling demons and monsters?"
Amaru thought on it for a while. He didn't know, but the thought of telling someone like Braun that he was ignorant to the subject irritated him. So he fought. As any Ahroun did.
"Intimidation." Amaru said firmly.
Braun blinked once. "Wrong."
"Fuck."
Braun continued, "By word of human historians, you're right. By human record, you're right. But there are few humans in this room."
For some reason, Amaru caught a chill.
"The real reason Samurai— men like my grandfather, fought wearing the masks of demons and evil spirits is because, they fought in great wars. Wars please The Wyrm. Banes and dark spirits swirled in their clashes. There were those that could see them among the Samurai. And they knew, to keep their ranks safe, they had to blend in. To look like the spirits of death and destruction, they too had to wear its face."
"So you're saying you aren't actually as you appear?" Amaru asked.
"No. I am all you see." Braun said, "But it is still a mask. One I wear for a purpose. Do you know what it's like to sacrifice for a purpose?"
"No."
"I'm told you do." Braun said.
Amaru looked at him.
"You sacrificed yourself to save Lexa. The term warrior and hero are only separated by the context of time, you know?" Braun replied.
Amaru didn't have a reply for him then.
"You and I aren't very different." Braun said suddenly.
"Is this the part where you tell me you sacrifice yourself for others too?" Amaru asked.
Braun shook his head. "No. That's where me and you differ. I'm logic. You're instinct."
"That felt disrespectful…." Amaru thought.
"Look at all this…" Braun referred to the ground they stood on and the buildings connected outside the window. The academy even. "I didn't sacrifice myself for this. Not really. And I can't do it now. There's too many depending on me. Even still, to build this, to better the chances of the Garou and many other fera, I have sacrificed... so much. Countless lives. Countless opportunities. Everything. And that is a language that both you and I speak. Even if it's twisted in dialects of logic and instinct. We are similar."
Amaru hated to say in a weird way he understood.
"Just remember, all the cars, money, cutthroat business decisions and deals I make, are a face I wear among the spirits of destruction, so that I too don't end up destroyed. I'll make us lose the battle if it guaruntees our victory in war." Braun said.
"Does it?" Amaru asked.
Braun looked at him, "It didn't at one time. But you're here now. All I ask is that you join us. I can give you answers. I can teach you about your kind— your tribe. I can give you strength. I can give you family. No more house hopping. No more aimlessness. You're a warrior, Amaru. A general. And we have many soldiers of Gaia that need you and those like you."
A moment of silence spread.
"I'm not going to that uptight preppy academy." Amaru suddenly said.
Braun smiled, "Remember, Mr. Mawh, masks. We all wear them."
"I'm not going."
"I'll give you one less class than everyone else."
"No."
"Two."
"Braun."
"Half-days." Braun said as he clenched his jaw.
"Alright." Amaru said.
Braun turned and looked at him.
Amaru side eyed him, "I take it you've never been poor. Or without family. I'll let you in on a secret, kids see that and attack. I fight back. The half days are for your benefit so that I don't rip your school in half."
"My father was Garou— a Shadow Lord Alpha, who later became a Hakken tribe leader. His name was Luther. Luther the Cold-One. My mother was human kin-folk of the eastern Beast-Courts. A daughter of a high ranking member. To infiltrate their numbers, he manipulated and subjugated her until she pushed out two children unwillingly. I was one of them. I was abandoned."
"You…. were an orphan." Amaru didn't give a damn about Shadow-Lords, Hakken or Beast-Courts after hearing that.
"We are similar." Braun said again, "and much like me, you've come into wealth quite quickly."
Suddenly he cleared his throat and spoke up, "Sophia, the papers please."
The woman once standing behind Ms. Markos shuffled over and handed Braun a roll of newspaper. He handed it to Amaru.
Amaru unfurled the paper and found a picture of the police station/detainment center back home.
The headline read, "Fauverde Juvenlie Corrections and Processing Department torn to shreds by illegal acts of abuse, money laundering, evidence of gang activity and racist cop-militia conspiracy. Star foot-ball player awarded two-million dollars in landslide lawsuit."
It was then that Braun pulled out a thick envelope and handed it to Amaru.
"Congratulations. You're a millionaire." Braun continued looking out the window. As if Amaru's life didn't suddenly change— again.
"What….. what…."
"Don't worry I already took my cut." Ms. Markos suddenly said, "I'll be heading out now. Braun, we gotta talk blood-suckers when you're not window-sulking."
"Understood." Braun said.
"Going on any runs tonight?" Ms. Markos asked as she headed for the elevator.
"We have a dinner tonight." Braun said.
"So, you're defintely going out. Got it. I'm coming."
Braun nodded.
Amaru watched Ms. Markos step into the elevator. She waved.
Amaru returned the gesture before she disappeared behind steel sliding doors.
Braun turned away from the glass, "So, Mr. Mawh. Will you join us in our war against the wyrm and toxic traditionalism. Will you help us save the world?"
"Sign me up."
Braun nodded, "Signings will come later. As my ward, you'll need to look the part first, so we have to go shopping. Unfortunately, this world processes the mask better than the true face."
"I've never been shopping. I guess I've got the money for it now." Amaru said.
Braun shook his head, "That's investment money. Stocks are expensive when they matter."
"What's a stock?" Amaru asked.
Braun shook his head, "That will come later. Let's move, we have a set schedule."
They headed for the elevator.
"Sophia, hold down the fort." Braun said.
Amaru walked with him asking, "So, you assumed I'd join you?"
"I'm very persuasive." Braun said casually.
"You seem more arrogant." Amaru replied as they entered the elevator.
"Arrogance is charming."
"Do you have a slick answer for everything?" Amaru asked.
"It's part of the game." Braun adjusted his cuffs, "You'll learn to play."
"I play just fine."
Braun smiled faintly.
They watched the floors lower on the panel board in silence for a while.
Amaru took the time to look at him again. Every inch seemed calculated. His breaths. His blinks. His movements all felt just sort of unnatural. A performance.
All for the sake of saving the world apparently.
"Braun."
"Yes?"
"I'm….. sorry about your dad… and your mom."
"…."
"I don't know mine, but….. anyway, for what it's worth, even if you were just an evil business tycoon, you're still doing much better than him." Amaru said.
Braun's eyes went wide for a moment too long making Amaru think he caused the man to have a stroke.
Then, the floor reached one. His mask was back on with a smooth dead half-smile.
Even so, he reached out a hand to Amaru.
They shook up as the door opened and entered the weird world together.