Planet Omega

Chapter 32

"Roll call when assassins are in their places," Adamantos commands over the sphere device.

"Avery."

"Leonard."

"Misty."

"Seraphina."

"Erik."

"Zuri."

"Wait, wait, wait, who the fuck is Seraphina?" Cal's voice complains over the sphere device, and I cover my mouth to keep from giggling at her confusion. By order of elimination, it's..."Phin? That's your full name? Holy fuck."

"If you're done being shocked over the name of your colleague, mage apprentice, we have a mission to continue. Clear the comms unless important," Adamantos scolds firmly.

"Well, excuse me," and then proceeds to mutter things under her breath that the rest of us can't hear.

Staff and soldier pawns made it to the event before anyone else. Me and the rest of them blended it without a problem because there were too many pawns to keep track of. The palace itself is just so enormous, no one is going to blink twice at the potential of extra security and help.

Though, we were thoroughly vetted and scanned, ensuring there'd be no way for someone who shouldn't be there would be sneaking in by way of wait staff. It was why Adamantos had carefully chosen us for our roles, but I suspect Ry had a lot to do with the strategy of tonight's events. They're nearly impossible to beat in any strategy game, which hints to me that even though their ability is to essentially read thoughts, they also think four steps ahead.

The palace itself is an extravagant sight to behold. Even though I'm Oh-One, I've never set foot in this massive structure before, and I try hard not to act like I care. But every direction I look possesses ethereal beauty, with golden pillars and white marble floors, and ornamental stones that glitter on the walls. I memorize every jewel I lay eyes on, and every iridescent coat of arms hanging by display weapons and armor.

Five regions, five coats of arms, and the one in the center is Spectre City's coat, the emperor himself, depicted by the head of a serpent with a golden crown over a black background. Every important wealthy person on Omega has that coat of arms hanging in their home - I certainly know I've seen that one before.

This palace was built centuries ago now, one of the finest works of art mankind had ever created with their own hands and with the help of machines. It's a shame that humans only ever sought to satisfy their own gain, and not share the wealth they've acquired. Planet Omega could have been a paradise for every living being by now if that had happened.

With all six assassins in their marked hiding places, the game is set. The five wait staff pawns, including myself, have already mapped out all of the distances in the grand ballroom and in the back kitchens and dining halls. Three of us are EMMAs, and the other two are regular pawns, giving them a greater advantage of blending in.

I was given the role of offering champagne to the guests after the head of staff cupped my chin and called me a 'perfect, purple-haired whore for eye candy.' I'd done everything I could to remain neutral-faced and obedient, while the others had to talk Cal down from storming in on this situation.

"You're okay?" Cal's voice asks.

"I'm fine," I confirm quietly, just before I put on my bright smile and head down to the ballroom with my platter of champagne flutes.

The evening is just beginning, there's no way some prick is going to affect me with just his words. He'll have to do a lot better than that. I've survived a lot worse. Because pawns aren't seen as actual living beings, nothing but machinery and synthetic threading and electrical pulses, I already anticipate being groped and talked down to more times than I can count. I know what this job entails, and I'll do it with pride.