24.4

March 3, 2070, at 0002

Seattle, Sky Needle

The Sky Needle, a majestic spire piercing the heavens, had transformed far beyond Crystal's recollection. Once it stood as a solitary sentinel, it loomed thrice or quintuple its original stature, a colossus overlooking the world below. Enigmatic runes, birthed from the dreams of a sorcerer with a penchant for the language of architecture, danced along its robust support structure, intertwining with the cold alien metal in a symphony of arcane elegance. These symbols, glowing with ethereal light, seemed to pulse with the world's heartbeat, imbuing the tower with its own faux life force.

The basic silhouette of the Sky Needle retained its iconic integrity—a circular platform, reminiscent of a domed dinner plate bestowed by the gods, perched delicately atop a needle's tip. Yet, this was no architectural feat; it was a bridge between realms, a nexus of power where the veil between the seen and the unseen thinned. The cap of this otherworldly obelisk shimmered with spectral glow, casting a celestial light that bathed the surrounding storm-darkening lands in incandescence, merging falling dusk with night’s gloom in a perpetual sparkling glimmer. It was particularly effective as the clouds gathering above shrouded the entire area in reflective darkness.

Around its base, the air thrummed with magical power, a testament to the Sky Needle's security defenses. It stood as a clear standard of the prowess of modern-day architects and mages, fusing technology and magic that probably cost more than most small countries' gross domestic product profits.

As the VTOL landed and Nadja’s entourage stepped onto the extended pad, Crystal caught a scent of ethereal decay from one of the nearby elves. Scanning through the Matrix memory list of Nadja’s entourage, it took a fraction of a second to identify Aina Dupree. Tracing the scent backward through reality showed her elemental senses a thin thread of red light. Her law whispered the secret of what the crimson line could mean, immediately making Crystal’s eyes harden.

Moving to stand a step behind Nadja on the left side, as appropriate for a servant, Crystal sent the information through Fluffyfeather’s secured link. As her elemental bones retained their previous properties, the spirit link had never been disrupted. The banshee’s eyes only flashed for a moment before her reply was sent with finality back through the Matrix.

“Deal with it in the manner I best believe to resolve the problem quietly?” Crystal thought with a slight excitement. Not every day could a Horror be found connected through blood to one of the highest levels of society. It would take a short time before taking action to make some preparations. There was no doubt in Crystal’s mind that leaving a problem like this to fester was only asking for a black-blooded plague-level corpse tide to rise and drown the world in agony and suffering.

As they entered through the Sky Needle’s door, the hall's centerpiece was a titanic pillar, its see-through walls filled with exotic, genetically engineered aquatic creatures glowed with bioluminescent light. Crystal’s elemental senses detected how the curvature of space had been altered. What was on standard, non-magical Earth, a rather cozy exclusive den, had been expanded. The interior was reminiscent of a football stadium in proportions.  Above, drones flitted about, serving drinks alongside the waitstaff and capturing the event in real-time, streaming it to those who could not attend in person but could afford the virtual entry fee. A large circular bar surrounded the central pillar with all liquid intoxicants. On closer examination, Crystal realized the central pillar was a massive cylindrical aquarium. Glowing species of predator and prey moved in the liquid-like hypnotic lights. The staff manning the bar moved like dancers, swiftly blending, mixing, and distributing drinks with inhuman expertise.

“As expected from Elven bartenders.” Crystal thought as soft music whispered from hidden speakers, a blend of electronic beats and synthesized melodies that perfectly entranced weak minds. She found it amusing that her elemental senses informed her the music had a low-level hypnotic overtone encouraging trade, business, and relaxation. One of the organizers wanted to get some deals closed tonight.

Platters of food moved through the crowd, carried by more elven waitstaff. From the scent alone, Crystal knew the food and drink were futuristic and exotic, and each item served on large silver plates was enchanted to keep them fresh. Crystal’s elemental senses found edibles that played with the mind, cocktails that altered emotions temporarily, and dishes that enhanced particular bodily needs. They had been prepared by magi-tech chef-bots that blended traditional cooking with molecular gastronomy, creating flavors and textures that challenged and delighted the palate. Mana did tend to make everything taste better with proper application.

It looked like this crowd of corpo leeches at least knew what to spend their money on. Food was always a good choice, in Crystal’s opinion. It was even better when organic stuff was on display.

The walls allowed viewing the outside through extensive application of illusion magic, impressing the newborn blood elemental. As her employer moved to take up the circular glass viewing area on the western wall’s curved edge as it turned south, Crystal looked outward at the crowd as the banshee settled into her throne in all but name. It didn’t take much imagination to see a queen surrounded by her court when looking at Nadja and her entourage in the luxurious booth. The distance of a single chair opposite the Dragon Foundation’s leader expertly split by a sleek onyx table made it more evident than words who was the supplicant and who was the empress.

Nadja Daviar was a monarch of the modern age, her sovereignty earned not by lineage but through a formidable blend of intellect, cunning, and an unyielding drive for dominion. It was no accident that Dunkelzahn had chosen her as his voice in the mortal realm. In this world where the boundaries between corporate hegemony and governmental authority had all but vanished, Daviar ascended to the apex of power. Her presence was commanding, with raven-black color-shifting hair that cascaded back to frame a visage of sharp, calculating green eyes and an expression etched with the confidence of one who has mastered the art of control. Her ability to shapeshift was impressive for a mortal.

Bored, Crystal noted the gathering was drowned in the usual pomp and circumstance. The significant deals are marked by quiet, potent exchanges among those who dictate the rhythm of life in and beyond the city below. Her elemental senses unveiled more than even the most potent cybernetics.

Crystal observed the circular hall gradually filled with an eclectic ensemble of figures: corporate moguls with guarded expressions, shadowrunners the local version of expert mercs whose eyes flicker with a hunger for the next job, and political dignitaries marked by practiced diplomatic facades.

Crystal received a message that arched her eyebrows in silent delight. The words flickered in her mind over the spirit link, a direct feed from her Warlock-gained and Chainpact-linked ally, Fluffyfeathers, aka Stir-Fry-With-Sauce or S.F.W.S. The amusement wasn't just at the nickname she had applied; the juicy tidbit of information came attached, promising tonight would be anything but ordinary.

The party, a masquerade of influence and intrigue, was the brainchild of Jonathan "Ironhand" McCallister, a titan among titans whose metallic grasp held the reins of Ares Macrotechnology. This machine godling, with veins of circuitry and a heart encased in steel, commanded the vast empire, an essential colossus straddling the worlds of the arcane and the augmented.

This wasn't just any corporate gathering; it was essentially a convergence of several of the most influential figures on the world stage. It was a veritable chessboard of power where each player was a game master. Ironhand, the machine god incarnate, had summoned the elites to his table, setting the stage for a night where fortunes could turn with a whisper.

According to the bio from Fluffyfeathers, the luminaries of the corporate world came to this gathering, each sovereign in their own right. Hiroshi "The Technocrat" Yamaguchi, his mind a fortress of code and cyber warfare; Maria "Mystic" Esteban, whose whispers could bend the will of gods and men alike; Akio "The Elder" Tanaka, a sage among sharks, his ancient wisdom as much a weapon as any blade he handled; and Wei "The Sorcerer" Lung, master of the elements and broker of shadows.

These titans had taken their places like constellations in the sky, each aligned to the cardinal points of the room, with Ironhand at the central nexus, the point around which all else orbited. The seating arrangements placed the Dragon Foundation’s CEO, Nadja, in a neutral no-man-or-machine land. It was no mere happenstance but a careful choreography of power, a silent declaration of alliances and enmities, visible only to those versed in the subtleties of domination and deception.

Crystal observed ever more invited elites arriving, their auras of power and prestige barely contained within the confines of tailored suits and shimmering gowns. The air was electric with anticipation, each guest acutely aware that this gathering was but a thin veneer over the cutthroat reality of corporate espionage, magical intrigue, and the ever-present shadow of the underworld. Effortlessly, she spread her elemental senses out through the party, looking for a specific signature. Fluffyfeathers, aka Stir-Fry-With-Sauce, had become best buddies with Celedyr through extended digital warfare. The Great Welsh Dragon was a leading researcher in Matrix technology and cyber-ware. After losing several bets against the cybernetic fowl, he passed along information that another Dragon might be attending the gathering.

Unknown to all but a few, "Ghostwalker," the legendary shadowrunner, was a Dragon. Allegedly, they had been hired to infiltrate the party, but it was unlikely the creature was doing this solely for their own beneficial profit. According to Celedyr, rumor had it that the banshee had, or still was, a romantic interest of Dunkelzahn’s brother.

According to S.F.W.S., regardless of other matters, Ghostwalker's main objective was a piece of encrypted data rumored to shift the balance of power in the megacorporate business scene. It didn’t escape her crimson and abyss-ringed eyes that the data hadn’t existed before Arasaka began experimenting in this world.

Crystal’s thoughts flickered as she unraveled another high-level Cloak, moving through the party with unhurried steps. Similar to her own, though of a less brute force variety, Ghostwalker’s method veiled them from electronic and magical means, but it wasn’t perfect. Her elemental senses, though, pierced it without effort due to the presence of potent dragon blood. Tracing the creature’s path through the party, the dragon was a flickering twist of hidden power. A rumor made flesh, their presence undetectable to ordinary mortals amidst the revelry. Quite a few individuals parted from their path in an intricate dance that appeared like a natural accident.

Crystal’s eyes observed the party with relish. It was easy to see who had Truesight methods since only those could detect something amiss. Without a doubt, every single one of the heavy hitters in the corporate world had acquired the veil-piercing vision. If they didn’t, it wouldn’t be hard for someone to cut their throat unseen after all.

The dragon passed by several powerful parties, never stopping for more than a moment. "The Dragon" Saito of the Yakuza, Don Vincenzo "The Shark" Romano of the Mafia, and Chairman Li "The Jade Emperor" Wei of the Triads were the notable ones their criminal empires' interests intertwined with those of the megacorps in a dark tapestry of power.

Oddly enough, Ghostwalker also passed by Mayor Emily "The Peacemaker" Nguyen, a beacon of hope in a sea of sharks, her political acumen tested with every conversation, every handshake. Of note as well as when the dragon slipped past Morgana "The Enchantress" Le Fey, representing the magical groups, holding court in a quieter corner of the southeastern bloc, her eyes alight with unseen fires, a soft voice weaving spells of influence and alliance.

Crystal ignored the dragon as they meandered away from the Dragon Foundation’s territory. Instead, she turned her attention to Nadja in the brief moments when the stream of supplicants and sycophants paused.

Dressed in attire that mirrors her approach to authority—understated yet undeniably formidable—Nadja held court at her booth with a poise that belied the intensity of the evening’s events. Her careful engagement showed a meticulous dance of diplomacy and dominance, revealing as much in silence as in speech. Crystal enjoyed watching some of the more ignorant approaches and being rebuffed.

The atmosphere, electric with anticipation and veiled power plays, seemed crystallized around the Dragon Foundation’s group. Crystal's mind, however, was far from the political maneuvering and social climbing that filled the air within this rarified setting. She had a darker, more pressing concern to address—the presence of a Horror tied to Aina Dupree and the looming threat it posed. It was a cancer that needed excision before it metastasized, and Crystal was the scalpel. She noticed the subtle shift in the air, a change that didn’t escape notice from the elite. The time to act was approaching. She excused herself under the guise of attending to a minor security detail, a believable pretext in an event brimming with the powerful and paranoid.

Outside, under the guise of night and obscured by the Sky Needle's immense shadow, Crystal tapped into the elemental plane. She summoned a whisper-thin wisp of bloody air, a servitor of her will, to scout and track the ethereal decay's source directly to Aina, and what it found confirmed her worst suspicions. The Horror was not just a passive threat but an active one, plotting to release a virus into the party's air, turning the elite gathering into a charnel house. Organics would melt or be turned, creating a body count to challenge any serial killer’s wet dreams.

A sample of the virus carried by Aina made the blood elemental’s eyes harden. It was precisely the same as trace elements detectable in the blood of the Arasaka representative. The rumors of experimentation were rock-solid realities. The possibility that a virus like what existed in this world could make it back to her own was horrifying. Even as her mentality gained stark edges, the law of blood’s caress soothed her mind.

“What was a virus but an agent of change carried in the blood? It would no longer have the power to resist her will than a vampire thrall could break its master’s control. There is no need to let worry take root and freeze my hand.” Crystal thought as the law’s whispers soothed her budding terror.

With a surgeon's precision and the storm's brutality, Crystal decided on a two-pronged approach. She couldn't directly confront Aina without causing a scandal that would ripple through their society for years. Nadja would be instantly the focus of far too much attention, and by extension, so would her Patron. Instead, she opted for subtlety and force in equal measure. First, she would neutralize the immediate threat of the virus. Drawing upon her elemental mastery, she crafted a spell to filter and purify the air within the Sky Needle, an invisible barrier against biological attack.

Next came the silver bullet shot, a necessary evil. Positioned among the crowd, a blood construct of Crystal's making wove into existence—a golem with a single-shot revolver—aimed at the vial of virus Aina carried on her person. With a single, precise shot, the vial shattered, rendering the virus harmless as the blood bullet ate it from the outside in. Aina’s eyes widened as she jerked in shock. The shot, silenced and unseen, went unnoticed by most partygoers. What didn’t go unnoticed was the sudden shivering and shaking of Dupree’s body.

Crystal’s bullet had done more than merely erase the virus. As it had infected the immortal elf’s bloodstream, the magic inherent in it took root. Through the countless untold millennia, a single truth was quickly discovered.

Blood calls to blood.

The red skein of woven thread lit with a bright crimson glow as the law of blood traced back through Aina’s fate. Willing or not, Dupree’s very essence fed the spell that raced across the world, finding root in her half-horror child.

Crystal’s eyes grew shadowed as a mirthless smile arose on her face. The final act would require a power demonstration that blurs the lines between awe and fear. Crystal summoned an elemental, a blood-bound being of water and life, to bind and isolate Aina’s decaying physical form. In a spectacle that would be talked about in hushed tones, the elemental materialized amidst the party, a swirling vortex of water and scented greenery ensnaring Aina in its grasp. It appeared as a sudden display of raw magical power to the onlookers.

The elf vanished like a popped soap bubble in a ripple of water and plants. Crystal had shunted her through space to the icy waters of the bay below. With Aina no longer a concern and the immediate threat neutralized, Crystal, having averted disaster, returned to Nadja's side, her expression betraying nothing of the drama. Even as she approached the Dragon Foundation’s territory, the silence started falling like the rain outside. Her eyes widened as she beheld an incongruous scene.

Jonathan "Ironhand" McCallister had seated himself across from Nadja Davier with a thinly veiled smile.