Beneath Zalcien, in a chamber amongst many in a network of tunnels situated between the city's labyrinthine sewers and the Sunken corpse of its predecessor, was a great and magnificent hive of flowers and wax, of green and gold that covered all of the stone, where large blue bees wistfully flew and collected pollen, all under the appreciative gaze of a man dressed in vegetal robes of living plants. He was handsome, with long blonde hair and a charming sere smile. Well, under normal circumstances, he would be wearing this smile. Here, in the privacy of his secret garden, surrounded only by flora and fauna who he trusted more than his human followers, there was no need to hide his feelings. No need not to frown.

The Biflora was not having a good day. Truth be told, he was having a terrible day.

What he had learned from the Patcher hadn't been much, but enough to make him realize Silhouette posed a greater threat than initially thought. He had hoped he would have had the time to better know the man before going from a passive approach to an aggressive one, but the failure of the Siblings he had sent had forced his hand and hastened their plans. His Delegate Shepherd's assaults on his base in the Sunken City had already shown the presence of troublesome individuals amongst his forces, he didn't need the situation to grow any more complicated.

The latest news swiftly punished this desire for peace.

The Patcher has been killed.

The magnanimous leader of the Hivines never had a place in his heart for the elf, and the fact he wouldn't have to part with some of his deceased drones to pay for his information was a small blessing. What worried him was the timing of the event. He was just getting information about Silhouette from the man and less than an hour later he was dead, impaled upon a spike on top of his burning home under the cheerful applause of his creations.

Yes, he had no evidence of guilt, but one didn't become the leader of a large cult without good deductive skills and sharp instincts. As surely as he could notice undercover agents trying to join the ranks of his sheep, he could discern that Silhouette was the likeliest culprit in the city's latest great murder case. If not Silhouette then one of his agents at the very least, for not even mercenaries and assassins in the city would have dared go after the elf, regardless of the reward. And this scared him.

He had distrusted the warnings of the man. The Patcher wasn't known for his sanity, and even then the Biflora wouldn't have put it past his self-proclaimed flesh-crafting rival to purposefully mislead him. The fall of Abrakaboom's friend was impressive for a newcomer on the scene, he had to admit, but there was a large gap between a mere runemaster and a holy man leading the city's greatest congregation.

Yes, Silhouette's enterprise was growing, and he had an undeniable talent for gathering interesting allies, but all of that was within the realm of the reasonable. Never had he seen the shadow man as a true threat, merely a talented potential recruit, a small business competitor, or an annoyance at the very worst. His display of worry to the now-dead man was simply an act, a caricature of his true feelings to learn all he could. The fact he was willing to pay the heavy price of parting with some of his bees' bodies was merely... Commitment to the act. Yes, that was it.

The latest turn of events changed his opinion drastically.

The Patcher wasn't a powerful man. Not a weak one, that was true, he could have dealt with the brunt of fighters in the city, but when it came to the truly mighty, to those who truly deserved the title of Super... The man's actions earned him his place as a Villain, not his strength. And yet, it was this fact that worried him. The Patcher's survival had been owed to his reputation and his importance in the affairs of many of the city's criminal groups, so for someone to ignore all of this and kill him, to have the bravery or stupidity to antagonize the vast majority of the underworld...

If Silhouette was indeed the responsible party, then that meant that the Patcher's warning had been correct. That Silhouette truly would be willing to go against established powers if he perceived them as threats. And now, the story of Silhouette patiently waiting, growing his group while weathering Runar's attacks until he felt he could and did successfully raid and end his opponent's organization in a single assault, had a much more threatening aura for a man who was already stuck as his enemy.

Truly, he could only blame the lost Siblings for this. The Delegate Shepherd did his job wonderfully and followed every order to the letter, unlike the now corrupted pair. At least he now knew better than to send another to pick up where the last ones failed, while the Siblings weren't irreplaceable there were still notable losses. Thankfully frequent memory alteration to scrub precious information from Siblings was already an established procedure, otherwise, Silhouette would have gotten even more tools to foment his revenge.

One of the bees that flew by stopped to rest on his shoulder, dancing its species' dance as it rubbed against his hair. His frown made way for a smile as he raised his hand to brush his finger against the insect's side, taking care not to touch the legs or wings. These little darlings weren't as fragile as their mundane brethren, but they still found these spots a little too sensitive for petting.

"I'm sorry, dear. You need not worry. I am merely fatigued by the situation at hand, but I know the hive will persevere."

It cleaned its antennae in response as it settled down in his hair. He chuckled before returning to more serious matters, addressing the wall of flowers next to him.

"Send the word. Siblings shan't be used in areas close to Silhouette's known territories and agents. Do not engage, but keep track of his activities if possible. He is now to be considered a threat equal to the Blood Angels in the absence of Sunburn."

The plants rustled as petals opened and closed, the information already making its way through the root network of these manmade caverns in the city's foundation.

For now, his focus would have to be on the dwindling Wicked Witchcraft and the expanding mechanical forces of the Empress. Once his spot in Zalcien's hierarchy was secured once more and the chaos of Abrakaboom's and the Patcher's disappearances settled, then he could start tackling this new shadow problem properly. In the meantime, he could still make preparations and adjustments to incorporate more light-aligned features amongst the Hivines' ranks, just to be safe.

Doctor Ivan Decanov raised one of his magnificent prominent rectangular eyebrows at the sight of two strange cats running away from an alley near his home on his way back from work. He might have been hard at work most of his time, but he was still familiar enough with the neighborhood's felines to know those two weren't locals, or at the very least were new arrivals, which would be strange since he wasn't aware of anyone moving in and people usually didn't take in multiple pets at the time. Not to mention, while bald cats had their niche, he doubted they were usually so large or had this many limbs. His suspicions grew when he barely caught something flying out of sight above the roofs of the surrounding buildings, sadly too fast for him to properly identify it as anything more than a hand-sized dark mass.

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He was about to stop and call his employer to report the strange happenings when he heard a small squeak. Turning his head, the scientist saw a particularly large black rat saluting before retreating to the darkness of the alley. The robot took the sign as what it was: Mischief was on the case, and he was free to retire for the rest of the day. There was still too much sunlight for the normally small mammals to be as effective as they could be, but he didn't doubt they already had teams tracking the oddities from the sewers. Following the flying one seemed a lost cause, but the network they had formed beneath the streets would let them scout as meerkats and quickly spread the news of any more "cat" sightings.

The Draskian grunted as he continued to walk home. Mischief would handle the rest, including reporting on the matter, and he would be free to enjoy his quiet time at home.

Soon enough he was facing the repurposed warehouse he called home, the front door automatically opening at his will. As usual, he announced himself as he walked into the antechamber that separated the street from the rest of the building's rooms, a choice initially born out of annoyance at the constant questions those who came knowing at his door had concerning the contents of his workshop that had also found a new utility to help the space feel more "natural" and "homely" for his roommate, someone that unlike him preferred a house to a factory.

"I'm home."

And, just as much as his announcement was part of their routine, so was the sound of cluttered objects falling to the floor. The scientist shook his head at the clumsiness as he placed his feet in the machine designed to clean them from the outside's world filth, though deep down he knew that had he had lips rather than cold unflexing metal on for a face, there might have been a small smile there.

As expected, as soon as he was done and stepped back out of the small cleaner, his roommate finished cleaning and burst into the small room to greet him regardless of the fact it was a little cramped with his body's addition.

"Hey, Doc! Had a good day today?"

The boy's cheerful and smooth voice didn't completely match his body. Yes, he was a young adult in what many would consider the prime of his life, but there was an almost caricaturesque aspect of his man-made body, an Adonis of metal and milky synthetic flesh that looked more at home in a costume store than a real person. Frankly, even while wearing clothes, the only things keeping an onlooker from thinking the boy was a particularly extravagant mannequin were the wig of short blonde hair on his head and the genuine life and kindness on his face, too perfect as it may seem.

"Yes, Adam. Though, out of sheer curiosity, you wouldn't have happened to notice some odd animals around the house lately, would you?"

The boy looked pensive as he began to look up in thought, lightly rubbing his chin.

"Well, I did spot those two weird cats earlier, but I haven't seen them since. Did you see them too? Ah, and aside from that, just the strange things moving in the dark you told me not to worry about."

"Yes, I have seen them. In the future, please do call me or tell the things in the dark if you see them again. I have my doubts about the veracity of their feline nature."

"Tell the weird shadow monsters if I see the fake cats again, got it."

"They're rats."

"The cats?"

"The shadows. They're rats. Trained and highly professional. They have a few hiccups, but overall more reliable than many of my past coworkers."

"Oh! Oh... So Silhouette has trained rats?"

"More like hired hands."

"Don't you mean hired paws?"

The glare the Draskian sent the boy had frozen lesser men. The youngster only chuckled at the reaction his pun caused.

"Regardless, they're trustworthy. If you're ever in trouble-"

"Go into the darkness or call you, I know. You already told me."

"The sewers are also a viable option. They colonized the tunnels with ease."

"Ew. Wait, they colonized the whole thing?"

"Of course not. They only occupy areas that are relevant to Silhouette's business, to be his eyes and ears as well as bodyguards for people of interest."

"Like you?"

"Us. My employer for once understands that worker productivity is influenced by mood, and keeping you safe is just as important as keeping me alive."

"Aw, thanks Doc. I'd like to meet him one of these days, he sounds like an interesting guy."

"He is my least hated employer so far. As for meeting him... He is quite busy these days, and truthfully I doubt you'd have much to talk about. I also quite appreciate his idea of separating professional and personal life. Why do you think he goes by Silhouette?"

"Oh. Wait, Silhouette isn't his name?"

"I never got confirmation, but I doubt it. It would be a little on the nose for someone with shadow powers to have this sort of name, no? Not to mention, when he and Techlord talk there is a fondness there he doesn't have with the rest of us, not even those who were with him from the start like those shopkeepers. He knows something the rest of us don't, and the most logical option would be his true identity or the like."

"Whoa. Welp, I'm happy you're having fun. Do you still have these applications to do?"

"Thankfully, unless we have more unexpected applicants, we should end the inventors and inventions round tomorrow. My presence won't be required anymore when it comes to the administrative staff and I'll be free to return to engineering. And, since we're broaching the topic..."

"Yeah?"

Had he had lungs, the scientist would likely have taken a deep breath.

"I will need to work on another location soon, it has had monster issues recently that bumped up the need for an advanced security system. Due to the time necessary for transport, it might be best for me to stay on-site for the duration of the work."

The boy's face fell as though the Draskian had just announced his birthday was canceled.

"Oh. You're leaving. How long?"

"I'm a genius, Adam. It should be a week at the most. Perhaps a little longer if monsters interrupt, but nothing outrageous."

"Yeah, okay."

Despite his words, it was clear his mood hadn't improved. There was a possible solution to this problem the robot had foreseen, though he wasn't sure of its viability.

"You know, I could perhaps have you accompany me."

The boy's eyes lit up, both figuratively and literally.

"Really?"

"I would need to ask Silhouette for authorization, of course. You'd need to sign a magical NDA considering the secrecy of the organization. But, I would appreciate a trusted hand, even if a little clumsy, and above all an interlocutor who isn't undead, an idiot, or a brat."

"I'd love to! Wait, did you say undead? Will there be zombies?"

"There won't be... Uh. Say, would you consider an undead arboreal entity a zombie?"

"Are you sure it isn't a regular spirit possessing a mundane tree?"

"Considering that according to Silhouette the tree was sitting at the person's desk, yes."

"Alright, so regular physical undead it is. If it's silent or speaks fluently, it's a skeleton. If it struggles to form words or just makes random noises, then it's a zombie."

"Uh. Then I suppose the area is haunted by ghosts and one zombie."

"That sounds awesome!"

The Draskian shook his head.

"I still fail to see what you find appealing about the paranormal."

"Come on, Doc! You can't tell me you're not at least a little intrigued. The mysteries of the soul are just as great as the mysteries of quantum science and the like, no?"

"I still fail to see what is so interesting about failing to die properly."

As expected, the boy proceeded to spend the next hour trying to convince his roommate of the greatness of the paranormal field.

Not that he minded. Regardless of the poor subject, the importance was seeing Adam happy.

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