//------------------------------// // Chapter 45: Forty Seconds // Story: A Long Way to Fall // by Cinders of War //------------------------------// Mirror Match slightly turned her head as the Auger made his way to the opposite end of the table, setting his briefcase she knew contained his tools on the solid surface with a metallic clunk. "Didn't think I'd ever be on this end of your interrogations, Auger," Mirror smiled as she watched him. "How are things? Kill anyone recently?" "I haven't had to," he said through his metal mask. "They've all been very cooperative. As will you, I hope." "Oh, don't you worry about me..." The interrogator flipped his suitcase open, revealing his array of shiny tools, used countless times on other Templars to get all the information they needed. Sometimes they even spilled the beans without them needing to be used. "So, I would like to talk about the Templar plans first," he said quietly as he pulled out a syringe with green liquid. "What are they planning next?" Mirror drummed her fists on the table as she thought about what to tell the Assassin. “Oh, the usual. Global domination. Getting unreasonably rich. Killing you. Simple stuff.” "What is the next step of their plan?" he repeated in a different sentence as he tested the syringe. “You know, I’ve known a lot of Assassins in my time,” Mirror mused aloud for her captor’s benefit. “But I have to say, this generation’s ones are proving to be pretty pathetic, in my opinion.” The Auger growled in his throat before approaching her. "Answer the question. What. Are. They. Plotting. To. Do. Now." “At this moment in time, right at this very moment?” Mirror smiled sweetly. "Yes," he muttered, raising the syringe close to her face. The Templar agent eyed the needle with amusement. “Quite a toy you have,” she said with a sniff. “Pretty potent mix of… what’s in there?” The man scowled behind his mask. One goal as an interrogator was the strike fear into the hearts of his victims. It usually worked, but this time, it didn't seem to be having any effect. "Would you like to find out?" he asked. She stuck out her tongue at him. “Honestly? Yes.” "Well, if you insist." He moved to the side and brought it closer to her neck. "This serum is designed to get you to spill the beans, as they say. Sadly, about thirty percent of my victims are immune. That's what the rest of my tools are for, of course." Mirror Match didn’t even flinch as the plunger depressed, sending all the serum into her bloodstream. She smacked her lips a few times, appearing to look for something to say. “Tastes pretty outdated,” she critiqued. “Mix that up yourself, did you?” The Auger didn't answer. He stood, arms crossed, waiting for his serum to take effect. He didn’t have to wait for long; his prisoner’s eyes abruptly glazed over and she leaned back in her chair. "There we go," he nodded to himself. "Not so tough after all, are you? Now, I'm going to ask you again. What are the Templars' planning?" "They… they’re planning… to…" Mirror’s words were slurred, and were becoming hard to hear. Odd. The serum usually didn’t do this to people he injected with it. "Please repeat yourself." “Templars… are planning to… send…” The rest of the sentence was lost in a stream of incomprehensible mumbles. "What is going on...?" the Auger grumbled as he continued to watched the dazed woman. He returned to his suitcase and pulled out a vial. He needed to check the serum again. If it did this to everyone he injected it with, he'd be wasting a lot of his time and resources. The Assassin interrogator walked around to Mirror Match’s side again to look at her neck. Perhaps he’d injected her in the wrong spot, or pricked a nerve. There had to be some explanation for this unusual effect. He prodded a finger into her purple flesh, checking if she had some kind of countermeasure against drugs. “You know, there’s shomething I should tell you…” The Auger ignored Mirror and scratched his chin. It didn’t look like he’d pricked her in the wrong place, although now that he noticed, there was a tiny dark spot on her purple skin, almost like a birthmark that had certainly not been there before he’d injected her. “Shhomee-thing… impooortant!” Mirror continued to sing almost embarrassingly loudly. "Gah, what is it? About the Templars?" “Yes!” Mirror nodded enthusiastically. “But it’s a secret, so you have to come closer, or someone might hear us!” The truth serum was having a weird effect on the ex-Assassin, but the Auger decided to humor her. Maybe at least he would get a straight answer if he played along. "Okay, what is it?" he whispered close to her ear. The Templar nodded approvingly, but spoke so quietly that he could barely hear her. “You know, you remind me a lot of a man I once knew,” she whispered giddily. “Dawn Saber was his name. He was big and strong like you too. Very noble, but there’s more to it than that.” "Your past does not concern me, traitor," he looked into her eyes. "Your future, however, does." “Oh, but don’t you see? You and Dawn Saber are about to have one more thing in common. Shall I tell you what?” "Yes, do tell..." the Auger asked impatiently. He had already wasted a lot of time getting nowhere. All at once, Mirror’s eyes cleared over and the Auger was thrown against the wall with enough momentum to crack the paint and send his mask spinning away. Mirror Match stood up, the cable ties falling away from her wrists like loose threads. She walked over and before the Auger could even draw his hidden blade, she had her fingers around his neck, squeezing and grinning down at him like a wolf. “I’ll tell you, then.” The Auger was hoisted off the ground and held up in the air. His legs thrashed beneath him but he could find no air to scream. Mirror’s mouth opened, revealing a pair of terrifying long canines, almost two inches long poking out of her gums like a vampire’s fangs. She hissed and with one quick sweep of her neck, ripped the Auger’s throat apart. He was dead before his body hit the ground. Mirror Match spat out the dead man’s blood and gave the corpse a kick. “You and Dawn Saber. You’re both dead men.” An alarm pierced the air around her as the door swung open. Both Assassins that had been standing guard outside looked at their dead comrade before pointing their blades at Mirror. In the blink of an eye, she was on them, sliding below a horizontal swipe and driving her knee into one Assassin’s solar plexus. He doubled over in pain and Mirror roundhouse kicked his partner before taking the weapon from his nerveless fingers and beheading the first man. The second one rose to his feet but before he could even get his bearings, Mirror thrust her newly procured weapon right into his eye with such force that it came out the back of his head, splattering blood and bits of brain all over the brick wall behind. The whole escape had taken little more than forty seconds. Mirror Match gave a tug at the sword, but it was embedded too deep in the skull to pull out conveniently, so she left it there and armed herself with a long, curved dagger from the truncated Assassin’s body. She had come here weaponless on the correct suspicion that she would be searched. Blood was quickly pooling around the corpses, so Mirror slipped out of the interrogation chambers and into the bureau proper. “Now, where is that office?” It wouldn’t be long before the alarms brought more of those Assassins running, and as much fun as it might be, her mission here wasn’t to kill them all. No. There was something far more… personal that needed to be taken care of. So she quelled her bloodthirst and slinked away into the shadows, aiming for the stairs. A smile grew on Mirror Match’s face as she scaled the steps three at a time. For the first time in forever, she moved with a purpose, as if all of a sudden she had something worth fighting for. An Assassin appeared at the top of the stairs and she took advantage of her momentary surprise to throw the Assassin over her shoulder and down the stairs. Things broke. Not the steps. “Hard luck, rookie,” Mirror kept climbing. “Always knew you were a bit weak.” She could hear footfalls on the floor above. They’d probably heard the alarms, or someone had found the blood all over the interrogation room. It didn’t matter. Upon appearing on the Mentor’s floor, a bullet streaked past Mirror’s chest and she retreated back into the stairwell. She clucked her tongue with irritation; Silent Frame and about seven others had taken up a defensive position between her and  her destination. Getting shot was so not on today’s schedule. Mirror decided to try diplomacy. “Hey, Silent Frame!” she shouted around the wall. “I can see your aim hasn’t gotten any better! What’s the matter, can’t bear to shoot my pretty face?” This particular remark was met with another bullet, this one chipping off a bit of plaster. It appeared that they weren’t going to move closer, which was what Mirror had wanted. “Nice one! You actually hit the broadside of a wall! Guess Trueshot can learn a thing or two from you, or has he not bought himself a new rifle yet?” She was running out of options and time. Not insults though, she had plenty of those. Mirror scanned the doors closest to her. Storeroom. No good. Toilet. Tempting, but unhelpful. Medical clinic. Perfect. Steeling herself, the Templar agent waited until there was a lull in the gunfire to dart across into Dr. Patch’s wing. The good doctor herself was absent, but there was a bedridden Assassin who sat up and saw her come in. Mirror punched him hard in the face and he went down like a rock. Silent Frame and High Noon could be heard outside. “She went in there! We got her now!” Mirror ignored them. She scanned the shelves of medical supplies for the item she needed, eyes jumping like roulette balls in their sockets. There! Two glass bottles, each filled to the brim with a clear mixture. She snatched them from their shelf just as Silent Frame, High Noon, and a small crew of other heavily armed Assassins burst into the clinic. They saw Mirror immediately. Guns were pointed. “Well, well, well,” Mirror Match said, backing away. “This all of you?” Both her hands were behind her back. “I think I expected more.” “Enough, Mirror Match,” High Noon said in what he probably thought was a brave voice. “We’ve got you surrounded. Just give up.” “Don’t make us do this, Mirror.” Silent Frame had her pistol leveled at Mirror’s head while holding her knife in her other hand. “You don’t want this.” The Templar agent smiled thinly. “No. I really think I do.” Mirror’s right hand swung down, hurling the bottle of chloroform she’d been holding right at the Assassins’ feet before dodging out of the way of their expected gunshots. The cloying scent of the chemical flooded the entire room, choking every one of her opponents into unconsciousness. Mirror Match watched Silent Frame try to lift her pistol, fail, and slump to the ground in a heap. It was nice, Mirror thought bemusedly while catching her breath, to not be affected by things like chloroform. She bent down and picked up High Noon’s fallen revolver and stopped at the clinic door. Unstoppering the second bottle, she poured the entire container of rubbing alcohol onto the threshold and shot it to set it alight. Then she shut the door and proceeded unchallenged to the Mentor’s office. The Mentor’s office was locked, so Mirror spent the rest of High Noon’s bullets shooting out the lock. She swiftly pushed the door open and headed in, keeping an eye out for the Mentor or her lieutenant. Empty. This just made her job easier. Most of the Mentor’s office was stacked to the ceiling with filing cabinets and bookshelves that held reports and accounts of past missions, so that was where Mirror went. “Now let’s see… about three months ago should be around here…” It wasn’t an easy search. For all their leadership skills, neither Star Lance nor the Mentor had been particularly talented in the ways of keeping documents neat and tidy. Anything that was irrelevant was thrown to the ground, until papers littered the office floor like leaves in autumn. There was a whirring noise and a muffled thump. Mirror’s brow furrowed in annoyance, her nose twitching. She turned around, beholding the lieutenant, Star Lance in the doorway, both his hidden blades out and ready, but a rather surprised look on his face. Looking down, Mirror’s eyebrows went north at the sight of a patch of dark red that was spreading across her chest. Mirror Match frowned and rolled her eyes, reaching behind her back to pull out the knife that he had thrown between her shoulder blades. “Really?” she tossed the bloodstained knife away and put her hands on her hips. “I can’t get a moment’s peace around here, can I? You can’t just go about throwing knives at people when they’re reading, it’s rude.” “What are you doing in here, traitor?” the lieutenant snarled. “This room is off-limits without the Mentor’s permission. You’re disturbing her.” “Oh, her? We’re old friends, she and I. I’m sure she won’t mind me dropping by and borrowing a file or two.” Star Lance charged at her, a second knife already hurling in her direction. Mirror stepped to the side and the knife missed, but the lieutenant was already upon her. A hidden blade scythed at Mirror’s neck and she barely had time to scoot away before Star Lance pressed the assault. Mirror growled, frowning for the second time that day. This man was a cut above the rest. Her hand shot to the dagger she had stolen, but almost immediately it was kicked out of her grip. Now completely disarmed, Mirror did the only thing she could. Backing up to the shelves, she kicked up the papers on the floor into Star Lance’s face and while he was still disoriented, seized a heavy glass paperweight off the desk and smashed it over his head. To Mirror’s dismay, Star Lance barely seemed to notice it. Her frown deepened. “You’re a tough one,” she squirted out of an attempted headlock and put the desk between them. “But you’re not like me, are you? You smell too mundane for that.” Star Lance drew a slim machete from his waist, slashing at Mirror and drawing blood. “Keep talking! You won’t be able to once I kill you.” Mirror Match dodged away from the Assassin, her hand finding the knife she’d thrown away a few moments prior. It was barely six inches long but it was still better than nothing. When Star Lance came at her again, she locked blades with his machete, the contact juddering up her arm. Star Lance’s other arm remained free however, and he took advantage of his by stabbing Mirror in the side with his hidden blade. She winced in pain. Kicking the troublesome lieutenant away, Mirror stumbled back, pressing a hand to her ribs and scowling. “I don’t want to kill you…” her voice seemed to waver, sounding like two people speaking at once. “Well, I do. You’ve done enough damage today.” The Templar made a noise that was something between a laugh and a cough. “Funny. That’s just what I thought about your little scheme with the Eye.” “The Templars want to control the world. We want to keep balance. We do what is necessary.” “Then you’ve really lost sight of what it means to be as Assassin. Your founder would be ashamed of you.” The two opponents rushed at each other once again, Mirror ducking beneath Star Lance’s blade and jabbing fingers into various pressure points, her hands moving in a blur. She smiled as Star Lance’s poise broke, but he maintained enough control to stab her in the leg with his right-hand hidden blade. Mirror Match broke contact with him by kicking him in the throat and clung to one of the bookshelves for support, her leg no longer able to bear her weight for the time being. Rubbing his neck, Star Lance’s face darkened. His right hand flicked out and there came a series of clicking sounds as a complex mechanism attached to his hidden blade unfurled. In less than a second, the Assassin was left holding a short, thin spear with the hidden blade as the spearhead. Finally, the blade segment clicked out into an arrowhead formation, completing the trick weapon’s transformation. Even Mirror looked impressed. “That’s a neat trick.” Star Lance speared forward with his weapon, catching Mirror through her cape as she jumped to the side. He pulled down, yanking Mirror back and slamming her against the ground. The Templar tore her cape off and leapt backward over the overturned desk. To Star Lance’s credit, he didn’t betray a single shocked expression when she continued upward and planted both feet against the ceiling, flying at him with murder in her eyes, only steadied his aim and hurled his hidden spear at his onrushing enemy. Then Mirror collided with him and both of them went tumbling head over heels into a filing cabinet. The Assassin’s eyes went wide, and Mirror Match sank her teeth into his upper arm. Star Lance felt something shoot into his bloodstream, robbing him of all strength to do anything but breathe and speak. Getting to her feet, Mirror Match looked down at her lower body, and at the spear that had gone clean through her abdomen, sticking out her back and dripping blood copiously. “Now that,” she wiped a stream of blood from the corner of her mouth. “Hurt.” Star Lance attempted to get up, but it felt as if every muscle in his body had turned rock solid. Even more shocking, Mirror Match wasn’t dead or dying. “That’s impossible… What are you?” She didn’t answer him immediately. The Templar agent’s face contorted in discomfort, her hands closing around both ends of the spear and breaking the shaft in half for easier removal. She tossed the metallic shafts down to the ground and returned to the cabinets to search for her prize. With a triumphant cry, Mirror’s hands closed around a crisp, beige folder and she rifled through its contents, withdrawing a single sheet that she tucked into her coat before coughing up a bit of blood. The Templar agent’s fingers reached into her cleavage and drank from a tiny glass vial of green liquid and sighing with apparent relief.  Star Lance noted that what wounds he’d inflicted had stopped bleeding already, and the most recent one was already slowing down. “What am I?” Mirror leaned over Star Lance and shook a finger at him. “I’m the one who’s going to be walking out of here with this paper while you sleep off my kiss.” “Not if I have anything to say about it!” came a shout from the side. The Mentor stood behind Mirror, a bookshelf slightly ajar, covering the secret entrance she had come from. The other woman’s shimmering hair was unkempt and disheveled, as if she had just woken up. At her side was an item that was familiar to Mirror Match: a gilt longsword that hung in its scabbard. Surprisingly, Mirror Match immediately relaxed her stance, abandoning all appearances of hostility. “Steel Shine,” Mirror nodded civilly. “You’re looking well.” “What have you done?” the Mentor said, aghast at the battleground her office had become. “What did you do to Star Lance?” Mirror sidled away from the incapacitated lieutenant. “Sorry about the mess. He and I had a bit of a disagreement, and if the rest of your disciples weren’t out to kill me, I’d stay to help you clean up.” The Mentor scowled and reached for her golden blade. She began drawing it out of its scabbard, but before it passed the halfway mark, it stopped. The Mentor raised an eyebrow as she looked down at her blade. “What’s going on?” she muttered under her breath. “Oh, right, that. You promised, remember? Or you might not,” Mirror Match gave the Mentor a final bow as she continued to struggle with her sword. No matter how hard she pulled, the blade simply would not leave its sheath. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, Mirror Match giggled and edged out of the office. She arrived at the steps just in time to meet Frigid Night coming down the same way. His eyes widened upon beholding Mirror’s bloody form. “Mirror? What happened to you?” She drew him close. “Thanks for having me, Friggy, it was fun.” “Wait-” “But I really must be going now, so…” Frigid’s face reddened as her lips met his. “Ciao.” And with Frigid too dazed to protest, Mirror slid herself down the banister and out into the lobby.