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“It’s up to you,” returned he coldly, “-what is your purpose, what did you want to accomplish?” she defiantly stepped back. The injuries had her expression hard to read, on the first impression that was. Her mouth and the look she gave sufficed – the pain and suffering oozed.

“Dei,”

“What?”

“Come with me,” without notice, he grabbed her arm and walked towards a fast-food seller.

“Let me go,” she struggled.

“Stand still will you?” now under a big tree, one could see the stage and the opening bands. In a fatigued manner, she rested against the trunk to slowly fall into sitting with her head between her knees.

.....

“Dei, I want to know what happened to you and Sugar. I have a vague idea, but I want to hear the truth. Cimier is involved, aren’t they?”

“How did you know?” asked a muffled voice, the stage made it harder to hear.

“Not of importance. Besides, I can see that you’re hurting. Let me see the left hand.”

“Why should I?” returned a less than inviting voice.

“Because I’ve said so?”

“Just leave me alone, getting involved in my affairs isn’t going to bring about any good.”

“Tis my choice to make,” said he sat beside her, “-you and Sugar, I knew from our first meeting that there was love between thee both. Must have been hard, keeping the relation hidden. Stardom seems to be this idyllic lifestyle when in reality, what I’ve experienced from the artists is being bound, holding a sad demeanor. The grass is always greener on the other side.” Time continued; no reply came from the lady. It was all but a passing moment of idealness, a moment where the crowd moved according to the music. Security sure was tight.

“Thank you,” her voice seemed lightened, the broken face rested on her knees. The shadow from the tree provided shelter from the rampaging sun.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Why so adamant?”

“I want to have you and Sugar back into the limelight. I know people who’ve been hurt by those responsible for your fretting hand. Try and hide it; it was obvious. An incident happened where the ability to play the bass was lost – that’s why,” a deep inhale later, “-that’s why I want to know.”

“Forget about it,” she laughed painfully, a desperate attempt to seem normal. “I did lose my hand – well, there’s nothing that can be done,” the sleeve rolled to unravel a damning sight. Her fingers were broken and never allowed to heal; the skin suffered burnt marks from a corrosive solution. Where there were once five fingers, now remained but four. The pinky was gone, broken off, or cut, none could have said. “You see now,” her disfigured expression looked like surrender, “-I swore to have revenge today,” the head laid against the trunk, “-seems it wasn’t in fate. Those in power will get what they want, and those at the bottom can but fight to have what they have discarded. The world is a brutal place, even more so than war.”

“Dei,” holding the left hand, “-tell me what happened. I won’t promise anything.”

“Trying to comfort me?” the changing clouds had her attention drawn further into the blue-sky’s emptiness.

“No, why would I do such a thing?”

“Enigmatic, I didn’t want to believe. Sugar said one day you’d show up, and here you are; as a King and god others know what title I’ve missed.”

“Old friend is decent enough. Dei, we were once bound by the same passion – I remember the time we performed, Aceline, us, Sugar, the stage that night couldn’t have lit any brighter. The genuine feeling of passion I felt, it’s all so far away now.”

“The best concert I ever played,” she smiled, “-fine, I’ll tell you what happened. You’d have wished to never have known the real story. Sugar and I were dating secretly. I saw the world from his eyes, he wanted to shine brighter than ever, so I decided to put his happiness before mine. I never regretted that decision. We recorded, performed, and went on tour, the band became popular very quickly. The girls loved him, and so did I. The spark of passion into becoming the guitarist had his mind occupied. Ansoft treated us well until Aceline showed up. We got news of her failing an audition; as friends, we went along to cheer her spirit, what returned was carnage. Scott stopped us from getting in touch. I guess around said time, we were more popular than Aceline. Life was pretty good, I got to see my lover do what he wanted, I assisted him the best I can – our band was rolling in fame and money. Then came that Friday evening; we returned home after a day at the studio. A door left opened, people in suit, armed and dangerous with Aceline in the middle accompanied by another well-dressed man. Next thing, I found myself on the floor barely able to hear. Sugar lashed out or from what I figured. Later on, I saw him change for the worse, I don’t have a clue what they discussed. Our downfall started on said occasion. Something troubled him, I wanted to ask and ended with the silent treatment. It became frustrating, so frustrating that I confronted Aceline at Ansoft. She didn’t take my outburst lightly since the day after, our relationship was in the public. An enormous backlash came straight for Sugar’s throat. We were shunned and ousted. He couldn’t take the burden – so we fled. A chance to start again, we seized it. For the following few months, he worked as a local bar singer as I did common work around the town. Freed from the life of stardom, I could indulge in doing things a normal couple would. The vindictive nature of Aceline returned – we were amused, Sugar was forced to swallow some concoction and I had my hand broken. She stood and watched, I know it was her, sneering at our sufferance, I – I g-give up.”

‘It fits, her story links with the intervention of another party. I doubt this sort of assault would have been ignored. Cimier played a hand. Aceline was present, and she was in contact with one of the Patek since they are in cahoots with Cimier, it links. Sugar lost his voice, she lost her hand, it runs deeper than expected.’

“Can I ask something else?”

“What more?” asked she wiping her silent tears.

“Where is Sugar?”

“At Dostein,” her stare sharply met the floor.

“Did you break up?” her face changed upon those words.

“W-why would you think that?” she refuted angrily.

“He’s the type of guy to not wish to impose his disability onto another. Especially onto one he loves. I mean, I can understand – he feels responsible for what happened to your hand,” he smiled reassuringly, “-which is why you came with a gun, to end the source of the torment.”

“I guess,” she sighed, “-why, do you think it’s wrong?”

“No, as far as I’m concerned, she holds no real value. Go ahead, pull the trigger, or should I call onto another to have her killed?”

“Stop bluffing, you’re not going to kill her on my behalf.”

“I’m the owner of Phantom, our company is neutral. As long as there’s money or something we are to gain, no job is dirty, no request too hard; tell me, what do you have to offer?” the voice changed as did the monotonous face.

“N-nothing, my hand is ruined, Sugar isn’t in a position to sing, we’re but broken individuals wasting breath on the planet.”

“No, my dear Dei, you have more than thee understands.”

“I’m not going to sell myself, that is off-limits,” her right hand sloppily moved to cover her breast.

“In no way would I ask such a thing. Besides, I doubt thee to have any clientele.”

“Awfully rude for a gentleman.”

“I meant it in jest, please, don’t think it harshly.”

“Whatever, out with it, what do you want?” the otherwise listless gestures grew energetic.

“You and Sugar’s soul,” the smirk had her shudder.

“S-soul?”

“Not literally, I only want to have thee work to compensate for the service I’m to provide.”

“What kind of work?”

“A work at retribution, a band of those who were ousted, a band of rejects. Sugar, you, we need a drummer, and Emi Muko, heard of her?”

“The one who had her virtue opened to the world to see?”

“Yes, her, I’ve employed Scott as her manager. I want to make her the better version of Aceline, and what better way than to have the original killed.”

“...” bobbed left to right, the darkened aura around her mind soon came as a yes, “-I want Aceline to die, please, have her killed.”

“The contract has been made,” smiled Staxius with a hovering screen, “-put thy finger and we shall have the job started.”

“I’m s-sorry,” breathing a laugh, “-BUT THIS IS RETRIBUTION!” *beep, contract, accepted.*

“éclair, have a high-priority order sent. I want Elliot in Alphia within three hours; the target is Superstar Aceline.”

“Order Confirmed,” he stood with the hands resting.

“Dei, I welcome you to Phantom. We’ll leave for Dostein after the concert is over and take Sugar even if it needs brute force.”

“...” The figure remained stuck in place, “-getting cold feet?” asked he.

“PLEASE, DON’T, HAVE IT CANCELLED!” she screamed, “- I want revenge, but not like this. I pressed and agreed, but I don’t want her to die, PLEASE, DO SOMETHING.”

“Nothing can be done,” a shook of the head followed the displeasing words, “-Aceline will die one way or the other. Thee chose it for thyself,” lighting a cigar, “-go and walk off the confusion, I’ll be back later.”

The order arrived instantly at Phantom’s Headquarters. Elliot was called upon from the espionage mission on a local gang. “What’s the status, Lady Cake?” he asked walking towards the hangar.

“A mission ordered by the Boss came from Alphia. We’re setting up transport,” came through the radio.

“Look,” said Knightfall, “-the target is a Superstar. I wonder how many fans will cry after her death.”

“Damn,” said jumping onto a bike, going from one place to another needed vehicles for the place was too large, “- I enjoyed her songs too.”

The XR-T0 Black-Bird Version, a tremendous improvement on the flightless jet bought so long ago. The gem and culmination of Phantom’s technology and research. A pilot from Sotepios waited in his flight-attire.

“Good morning, Sir Elliot, we’re readied for takeoff at your discretion.”

“Let’s do it then,” armed and ready, the runway roared as if an erupting volcano.

The event continued as predicted, the crowd all but grew denser. Staxius remained close-by, watching from a biased point of view. The music sounded nice but wasn’t great, it lacked originality. Arms crossed; he eyed the skies as if waiting for a rainy day.

“Oh come on,” mild arguments came from the dressing room.

“Lady Aceline, please understand that our singer is better suited for this type of performance. We agreed to perform as one on stage, but thy refusal for repetition forced our hands. In no way can Riot afford to have the fans be subject to an unprepared artist,” voiced the Leader loudly.

“Mind thy tongue,” returned she with a disgusted expression, “-this is nothing but promotion for the next movie. Long are the days where I have to fatigue myself from performing. We’ll do as I say, I’ll take the lead on the first two songs, then do as you wish, I have an appointment later.”

“My lady, please understand,” interjected Tolm, “-our leader only wants the first song to be a success. We can carry the energy from the hyped crowd over to an entertaining night, doesn’t it sound nice?”

“Shut up,” stood she with a light bulb crashing at the back, “-do as I say, else.”