Lucia

Chapter 13: True Colors

Warden Wolfe confidently entered the code into the keypad, the metallic click signaling the unlocking of the Meta Block he had kept hidden from prying eyes.

"Welcome to my own personal meta-block," he announced proudly, his voice echoing in the dimly lit room, "built on the remnants of the once towering Iron Heights, a place devoid of records and surveillance."

Amunet, with a hint of impatience, interjected, "Yes, yes, enough with the history lesson. Let's get to the good stuff."

"Mina Chaytan," Warden Wolfe continued, his tone filled with intrigue, "possesses the extraordinary ability to bring effigies to life."

Amunet, intrigued, inquired, "That's quite a remarkable talent. Can she animate other objects as well, I wonder?"

Mina, with a mischievous glint in her eye, retorted, "How about my finger?"

Amunet chuckled, "I must say, she's quite spirited."

Sylbert, with a self-assured smile, chimed in, "You're going to adore me, and I'll willingly comply, my dear."

"Sylbert Rundine," Warden Wolfe introduced, "has the unique power to shrink objects and restore them to their original size."

Amunet, with a sly grin, remarked, "I know a certain smuggler who would pay handsomely for his abilities."

"Ramsey Deacon controls technology, and Becky Sharpe can manipulate luck on a quantum level," Wolfe elaborated.

Amunet's eyes gleamed with excitement as she exclaimed, "I sense a thrilling bidding war on the horizon.

Amunet approached the cell where Barry was confined, her steps echoing in the dimly lit room. Wolfe stood nearby, a sly grin on his face as he revealed the identity of the captive to her.

"A speedster, something you've desired for quite some time," Wolfe announced, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Amunet's gaze shifted to Barry, her eyes narrowing as she studied him intently. After a moment of contemplation, she spoke, her voice tinged with recognition.

"You seem oddly familiar, almost like a distant memory resurfacing," she remarked, her curiosity piqued.

Wolfe, ever the opportunist, wasted no time in laying out the terms of their agreement.

"As always, we split the profits from any metas you provide. So, who shall it be this time?" he inquired, a businesslike tone in his voice.

Amunet's face lit up with excitement as she made her decision.

"Oh, all of them," she exclaimed eagerly, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

________

Ralph strolled towards his apartment building, the very place where his private investigator practice was located, when a distinct scent wafted towards him.

"Is that Drakkar Noir, onions, and liverwurst?" he muttered to himself, recognizing the peculiar combination.

"Oh dear," he exclaimed, a sense of realization dawning upon him as he anticipated who awaited his arrival.

Ralph turned the doorknob of his private investigator practice, the sign with his name swinging gently in the breeze. As he stepped inside, the dimly lit room revealed a worn leather couch where a man lay snoring softly. Ralph's expression soured as he recognized the man as Earl Cox, a troublesome figure from his past cases.

"Earl Cox," Ralph muttered under his breath, a frown creasing his brow at the thought of dealing with him once again. With a heavy sigh, he called out, "Earl!"