The night was young, the club hoppers were emerging from isolation to greet the neon, and Khalil was watching from a well covered roost. Once again he was working by himself, his preferred style, and the target was moving through the line in front of the club. This one reminded Khalil so much of his past life. He’s proud, rich, able to cut to the front with no complaint, and high off of accomplishment that’s not his own. Apparently this guy also had some criminal connections as well because his Proxy told him this kid was involved with smuggling TITAN artifacts off of Mars and into the wider market. Khalil couldn’t help but sigh. How had he gone from someone who was paid just to be seen at a club to operating as an agent for some bloody conspiracy? Memories flooded back to him as the sounds of the club faded away…
Khalil had been born into the Jakarin family and knew nothing about the blight of those below him. His father was a gifted investor and politician who made friends with all the right people while his mother’s distinctive military career gave the family a PR token to good not to use. His childhood was founded on wealth few ever experience and he took it for granted. Khalil was never one to question where the riches came from and in the end the source of his family’s power is what brought his life to an end.
The party had been amazing. The woman the alcohol, and the drugs had all been top of the line and the night would be ending on a high note. One of his friends had been given a collection of demo petals by a star designer who worked out of the Carnival of the Goat. The designer had a clientele list so exclusive that the vast majority of people didn’t even know he existed. Khalil took the petal without a moment’s hesitation. He felt his body grow warm, his senses expand, and the petal take his mind to a new level. This was it; this was the ultimate high he had been looking for. That was the last thing Khalil remembered before waking up a few hours later. His head was pounding and Khalil was going to ask someone for a hangover cure when he noticed the blood on his hands. As he looked around him Khalil tried to scream but couldn’t even will himself to do that. Everyone, the party goers, the pleasure pods, even the servants were all dead. Khalil knew that even with the massive drop in rep all this could be covered with money and a few new morphs. That’s when the message arrived.
“Your friends are gone child as well as your old life. I feel like you wouldn’t follow this path so you’ve been forced onto it. You have been given a burden, a relic of the TITANs. You feel it growing within you already don’t you? The sins of the father shape the fate of the son. He made his decision and you will come to regret it.”
His Muse Coza couldn’t track the message and the sounds of sirens were becoming audible. That was the beginning. The day his life ended. The day he burned every favor he had and began a new life. Khalil went into isolation as the voices became stronger and the feeling of an alien fire burning his mind went from something purely psychological to obviously physical. The people around him seemed to bubble with energy and just his touch could bring another transhuman to their knees. Khalil found an abandoned mining outpost on the outskirts of Martian civilization and dedicated himself to controlling whatever crawled within him. Sometimes he would receive a message from the same monster that did this to him asking how his training was going. Besides Coza this was the only contact he had with another person and despite his hate Khalil came to enjoy these conversations. The last message Khalil received from the Doctor as he called himself was an invitation. There was a group who would accept him for what he is. One who employed others of his kind. They were known as Firewall and if he worked for them the Doctor would produce the answers he wanted. Why this was done to him, what he was exactly, and more importantly who was the Doctor.
That was over a year ago and while the answers did come it was very slowly. He knew the Doctor and his father had known each other but beyond that there nothing. He could have gone somewhere new, somewhere with less people that may recognize him but the nightmares keep that from happening. Every night images he cannot understand come to him but his instinct makes him believes they mean danger. Khalil feels like it has something to do with Noctis-Qianjiao and until he feels like the danger has been averted he refuses to move on. The memories soon pass and as his senses returned to the real world Khalil felt the buildup of power as he prepared his body for what was coming. The subliminal message Khalil had planted in the targets bodyguard took control as the music hit its crescendo. The wannabe smuggler ran with his protector, trusting it was in his best interest as he was herded into the private transport. As they drove around the corner Khalil deactivated his chameleon skin and stared at the shocked and scared face of his target. “Hello Mr. Durand. I am sorry to meet you under such circumstances but it seems you have been dealing with things you shouldn’t. No, don’t try to contact your driver. That’s a friend of mine behind the wheel and your transmissions are being jammed. Now please, do not fight this. It will make my job much harder and put you in much more pain.” Violating the mind of another is an acquired taste but as the information he needed crawled up his fingertips Khalil thought to himself his palette was mature enough to appreciate it.
