Now, while James truly did run to Silhouette's office, he didn't stop there. Once inside, he locked the door, stashed his clothes in a hidden compartment, and slithered his way through the secret shadow paths embedded in the walls to rush the entrance, meeting up with members of Mischief watching, hidden in dark corners, as the Empress' forces marched the Penumbral Palace's way.

Well, when put like this, it sounded more dramatic than it truly was. Yes, the mechanical entities headed their way were without a doubt the imperial Villainess' creations, adopting her iconic silver look with glowing red eyes. But those weren't armies geared for war and destruction. If anything, the trio of automatons looked... Well, beautiful was a matter of perspective, but they were definitely more focused on appearance than function, unlike the Harvester drone James had destroyed in the past when he first ran into his newly orphaned rat children.

The guards at the sides, for instance. Yes, they still looked prepared to fight, with a blade on a forearm and some sort of crossbow on the other, and likely would pose a threat if engaged. But these two still looked more like soldiers in a parade or guarding a monument than warriors. Their bodies were forged like armor, yes, but there was an elegance to them, a finesse in their androgynous look. Really, James wouldn't have been surprised to see things like them as purely decorative suits of armor that had never been worn back on Earth in some extravagant newly rich's mansion. The red feathers, skirts, and capelets only added to the impression.

If the guards were expensive decorative armors, then the leader was an even more luxurious doll. While her metallic poofy dress and long braided hair were composed of silver, her "skin" appeared to be made of white gold instead. Like the guards, she wasn't an attempt at mimicking humanity accurately - rather, they were reimaginings of it, caricatured forms of beauty. Her waspish waist was impossible to achieve, even with the corset of her dress. Her limbs were too long, too thin, too delicate. Her face frozen in the way - a gentle smile - it had been in since the day she was forged, with grooves from her bottom lip to her chin being the only indication she could even move her mouth.

James shared a look with the closest rat. Thanks to his connection with them, he could silently instruct them to prepare for things to devolve into a fight and warn the rest of the crew of the incoming contact, while also informing them he would go meet the group. There was a chance their similarity to the usual theme of one of the city's biggest villains, one well-known for her mechanical creations, was merely a coincidence. James doubted that, but still. He had to keep up appearances. And he'd feel bad about kicking out people just because of their fashion choice. Well, theirs or their creator's. Not every robot could personalize themself. It took skill or money, or both.

As rats saluted in the dark and scuttled away, James approached the trio of machines, meeting them in the street rather than inside the Penumbral Palace's shop. He'd rather avoid dealing with self-destructive tactics by defusing any bomb if he could, but best prepare for things to go wrong.

"Why, hello there. I hope you don't mind my forwardness, but I couldn't help but be curious about such an eye-catching group coming to my property."

The guard paused to the side while the lady took a final step forward, greeting him with a little bow. James was no expert, but he thought he could remember something about how far someone bowed was a sign of their respect for the other, or lack thereof. But he didn't know much about the subject, and he'd rather avoid making a scene if they weren't here to cause one. They could insult him all they wanted, so long as it was the only thing they did.

"Salutations, O Silhouette. We have been commanded to come here to initiate discussions with you."

The lady's voice was... An obnoxiously sing-song one. There was no malice, no emotion really, and that was precisely the thing. It was a poor attempt at mimicking a kind and gentle voice, like a big sister or a young mother, with none of the warmth and more of a customer service feel to it. He could even hear the way her words followed a precise rhythm. He wouldn't be surprised to hear her start rhyming next.

"I see. What is it you have to say?"

"You misunderstand, sir. I was only to initiate this meeting. My purpose now is to serve as a conduit."

Yeah, James didn't like the sound of that.

"For the Empress, I presume?"

She nodded. And then, she changed.

There was no true physical transformation, no. It was her demeanor that shifted. The careful and measured pose of a servant was gone, replaced by the assurance and pride of a ruler. The steel of her face was still frozen, and yet the gentle smile had turned smug, and the unfeeling glowing red eyes now had a sharper edge to them, an intelligence that wasn't there before.

Looking into his eyes further, no. There was one physical change. The red light in these eyes had changed. It was subtle. Barely noticeable. But there was a darker core to that glow now. A carmine hue at the heart of the scarlet light.

And the voice that came next was very different as well. It was the voice of a queen, one that delighted in her power. In the harm she could do.

"Silhouette! It's a pleasure to finally see you with my own two lenses. Television and social media do a poor job when it comes to showcasing your natural presence."

"Empress. I must ask, does she have a mind of her own?"

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"Does it matter? All of my creations serve me, regardless of whether they're sapient or not. But you! Oh, you, my dear Silhouette. I must say, it has been quite some time since I saw someone with your talents in this city. You are well beyond the level of the petty miscreants I am used to."

"Forgive me for cutting the niceties short, but I would like to know what you want."

"Ah, work before pleasure, then. A mindset I can get behind. As my Diplomat has already informed you, I wish to talk to you. But are you sure having such a discussion on the street is a good idea? I would like to talk about private matters."

"Anything I have to say to a Villain can be said in public."

"Worried about your reputation, are you? I cannot be annoyed at a man who cares for decorum, unlike the ruffians I am used to. Very well. I came here to come to an agreement."

"I will not be supplying you with our weapons."

"Oh, no! This isn't my intent, dear. Your toys and gadgets are impressive, I must say, but I prefer crafting my masterpiece. No, I had my subjects come here to secure a non-interference agreement, or a non-aggression pact at the least. Contrary to what many say, this monarch isn't picky."

"A non-interference pact? Truly?"

"Unlike the poor fools that compose the obstacles in my way, I am perfectly familiar with the concept of diplomacy. Only an idiot would initiate a war with an unknown party out of pride. No. I'd much rather we stay at peace. I will keep to my affairs, and you will keep to yours."

"I gain protection from one of the city's greatest Villains. What do you get, then? I am no Hero nor Vigilante."

"Ah, but see, I'm not sure I agree with that second part. Yes, you're not one in the eyes of the Union, but you vanquished the Nightsnatcher, you fought back hired Supers sent your way, and... Well, I think most people in town are aware of your little shadow shows in the local bars. If I may, I adore the theatrics. Dragging poor souls who threatened you to the abyss... Ah, sublime imagery."

"I only ever acted in self-defense against hostile parties. If you feel the need for such a pact, then you give me reason to worry. Because it's what will happen if I refuse, isn't it? I'll find robots paying me visits or going after clients."

"Oh, no, Silhouette, dear. I told you. I am not a petty little idiot who thinks a no to being friends means becoming enemies. A refusal on your part wouldn't be an invitation to retribution. To tell you the truth, my subjects have been quite occupied handling the local ruffians. I would rather not engage a new front in this war that I'm winning."

"And when the war is over?"

"Then I'll rule this city, and I would have no reason to go against one of my subjects now, would I? You would not need to serve, just obey the regime. As all other inhabitants of Zalcien will."

"Why me?"

"Oh, modest as well! The qualities keep accumulating when it comes to you, don't they? But enough frivolities. Silhouette. Surely you see it too. This city is but a husk. My opposition? A group of mages selling illicit and flawed goods. A gardener with delusions of grandeur, followed by even dimmer fools. And the ones I almost forgot, the killer who parades around puppeteering the corpse of Natrashka's legacy, only kept alive by the loyalty of a burnt-out star."

She chuckled as she waved off any perceived threat that the most dangerous gangs in the city could pose to her.

"As I said, fools, only kept alive by luck, a war fought on multiple fronts, and the interventions of the city's so-called defenders. But you? You have talent. Ambition. Drive. You have what this frozen city lacks. Change. You brought a breath of fresh air. The scene has been altered since you stepped on the stage, and some of our most infamous actors have retired. No more detonations in the dead of night. No more boogeyman. I wonder who will be next?"

"You speak as though I were responsible."

"Whether you are or not, you are the incarnation of this turning page. The face of the new era. And I would rather know you have no project to get in my way when the roles are redistributed. Hence, my proposition. Safety for you. Peace of mind for me."

One of the guards' chest opened, revealing a hidden compartment from which it pulled a sealed scroll it then offered to James. James formed a dark tendril, not with his own shadowy flesh but magic, just to be safe, and grabbed it.

"Inside this scroll, you will find a magical contract, already signed by my hand. My real hand. It dictates the terms of the agreement I spoke of."

James flicked his construct, breaking the wax seal and unfurling the thing, making sure to aim away from himself, in case it was actually a runic trap. Instead, what he found was exactly what the Empress described, though she failed to mention one point.

"Signed in blood, I see."

"Of course. You know how these rituals go. Magic enjoys performances just as much as we do."

"Yours, of course."

She giggled at his joke, James having made no effort to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Oh, a lady has to keep her secrets, dear. But know this. Should you sign this contract, I will be immediately alerted. The inner workings of the magic even ensure my machines will be informed of targets to avoid, all without any input from either of us. They'll simply instinctively know who they are not allowed to touch. Isn't magic miraculous?"

"I see. The deadline?"

"Oh, ye of little faith. I will abide by the wording of this contract should you sign it, regardless of when and where. That being said, while my subjects are busy handling the competition at the moment, this will not last forever. Before the end of the war, there will be periods of respite. To harvest crops. And, should this happen before you sign, then there will be no immunity granted. I would not be so boorish as to send one of mine against you when this time comes, but the larger your enterprise grows, the more likely it is for one of your employees to be targeted."

"Not a threat, of course."

"Of course not! This is merely a warning, an explanation of events to transpire should the current pattern follow. You can have my word on this, Silhouette. Unlike the others, I haven't made lying one of my core tenets. Lies and deception are for petty squabbling power grabbers. A monarch needs only the truth to rule, and the power to support it."

"If that is all you have to say, then leave my property."

"I still occupy the street, dear. Not your domain."

"I don't think the Union will see it that way."

"Ah, called the guard then. Clever. Not original, but clever all the same. My subjects will depart, then. Farewell, Silhouette. May our next meeting be at least this pleasant. Regardless, I have a feeling it will be entertaining."

She chuckled one last time before falling silent, the machine suddenly snapping back into the demure servant who had first arrived. She bowed, mimicked by her guards, though they bowed lower than she did.

"It was a pleasure to meet you, O Silhouette. We will be taking our leave."

And just like that, what was likely an elite trio of murder machines peacefully left, marching calmly away.

James didn't wait a second to call Blake through Solvent's body.

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