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“Shadow,” said Renaud paused before a mask-wearing figure.

“Godfather,” she replied with a nod, “-good to see thou art in good health.”

“For the most part I’m fit as a youth, yet, the vexing old-age creeps ever-so-close.”

Leaving the two to converse, Staxius headed inside to pay respects. The bodies were cleaned and rested in coffins. It was requested for them to be cremated rather than being buried. The ashes would be taken back to Hidros and released at sea.

“So, Shadow,” said the Godfather coldly with prying eyes staring up and down, “-let’s head to a more private location,” in a whiff, he turned and reached for the door. Fedora off, respect was paid as well as the exchange of a few words to those who grieved. The way he moved, spoke, and acted, was a telling sign of experience. It wasn’t his first nor last funeral; each week, a fellow DG member would die. Funerals were as common as going to the store. Yet, today felt different, the way the eyebrows knotted together, the way the clean-shaven chin strained; there was anger hidden deep within. Anger waiting to pounce on the next target.

“Staxius, Shadow,” he spoke under a tree not far off the property, “-I know I’m responsible for this tragedy,” gone were the compose words, gone was the cool attitude – his true emotions came to light, ??-I ain’t gonna say none about it. My fault, my shit to deal with,” faced away, “-should ‘av seen this coming. I’m a fool, good for nothin’ fool,” the accent grew overbearing, a side-effect of the fast-paced speech. “Listen to me,” the trail of words stopped, “-I want ya to find who did this. Inside, sitting at the right of the boy’s corpse is a man from Stanley’s team. I doubt he has that much gut to send a pawn to assist the funeral he caused. It’s fishy, I don’t like it one bit.”

.....

“It’s true,” added Courtney, “-during my encounter with their guards, none seemed to know what had happened. Ask as I might, nothing came from the slaughter.”

“Don’t sell yourself short yet,” smiled Staxius, “-there’s more here than I expected. I can say for certain that Godfather Stanley is involved, whether directly or indirectly, I know not yet.”

“The dead ain’t coming to life,” heavy palms landed on the shoulder affectionately, “-take how much time ya need, I’m waiting,” and off he went to meet the others present.

“Any clues to go off of?”

“I got my source, just need time. What about you, I got a message saying the return to Hidros?”

“Cake told you, did she. Guess it’s not much of a surprise. Shadow is needed to handle a transaction off-shore, you know, the ones with millions on the line. She wants to have the best at the ready, Elliot is readied to move.”

“The life of an arm’s dealer isn’t easy, I hope tis not hard.”

“Not hard?” she snickered, “-I’m always on the verge of being killed, always fighting, and always killing. In that aspect, this job is the worst shit one can ever do,” her head tilted ominously, “-that’s why I adore it. I’m thy sword, remember, I’ll do what is must, my lord,” here moved another figure down the green-yard traversing the few flower-plots with ease. Back to the tree, arms crossed – the breeze blew as the coffins were moved. Heavy on their shoulders, the number of people present grew apparent. Little from the first glance and an endless number of individuals in formal clothes walked. Gathered around, the procession left after a few words of prayer from the priest. Long, slow, and woeful, he followed at a much slower pace. Fingers tapped the steering wheel; the greyish sky was thunderous.

‘The sweet scent of death,’ came a whisper that tickled the ears. ‘How’s it going, Lord Death,’ and again came the same voice in a more devilish tone.

“What do you want?”

“Tis not the way to speak to an old friend,” materialized a translucent figure on the passenger seat.

“Please,” replied Staxius, “-Creation, I do think jokes like are not becoming the all-mighty, at all.”

“Whatever, suppose the god of death has no interest in humor,” it took on the appearance of Cake.

“I do enjoy humor,” he refuted, “-good humor, not the kinds that make one want to die of cringe of awkwardness. It does strain the mouth to give a fake grin.”

“Calm down,” said Creation shocked by the words, “-I only came to pay visit and homage to an elder-soul.”

“Elder-soul?” he asked.

“Yes, Elder-soul, the head of the Lerado family is next in line to being chosen for reincarnation or ascension to divinity. Unlike you, if the soul is deemed worthy, he’ll be reborn with knowledge and power of all.”

“You’re the one in charge of that process, right?”

“Half-right, I only but created it who judges the souls. All are independent, the world of the dead and divine isn’t as glamorous as the humans make us be. For the most part, watching how the world evolves is the best entertainment, give or take a few millennia to see any action. Also, congratulation on taking the first step in the stairway. I had bets that said task would be accomplished in a decade, suppose Lord Death got away with it.”

“On the subject of Lord Death, how is he doing?”

“Since you took the mantle, he’s cheerfully enjoying the time off. The souls are being judged by Tharis and thou art doing a good job.”

“There’s nothing to applaud, Death for the most part is instant. The souls are taken away without my knowing – there are exceptions, let’s not get into details. What of the dimension, how’s Zeus and the other gods?”

“I don’t really know; the Titans are trying to reawaken. Kronos’s heir, the god slayer, is on yet another murder-spree. Tis under Zeus’s line-of-authority, Death and Creation has no part in the politics of gods.”

“Thou does know how repulsive that sounds; the politics of gods.”

“Yeah, it does leave a bitter taste in the mouth,” the procession reached the grave where rested a crematorium. “Suppose I should be off, see you around, God of Death.”

‘Quite a rare visit from a rare guest,’ the door opened to a mild-shower. The coffins were taken into a rather clean room where the bodies would be burnt. The use of purifying Fire-spirits was a must for the ritual to go in good-omen. Tis was the belief of which the priest followed.

*Message received: Michelle.*

A spur of relief came from inside out, ‘-the report is here,’ he thought whilst holding the phone. Stared upwards to see the people, he slipped to read what was sent.’

*Concerning the investigation of Cimier’s activity relating to the Lerado incident, they are as his majesty suggested – Cimier is responsible. Not to go into much detail, I managed to scour around for a close enough reconstruction of the night. The scheme began far before thy arrival at Alphia, as far as Cimier’s concerned, the leader of Phantom poses no threat. The rumors of Lerado’s efforts at dealing in the retail of the narcotics had the underworld shudder. Responsible for import only, they were the middle-man in most trade made between Cimier and the Dark-guild. Take out the middle man and the whole distribution is perturbed. Since Lerado is affiliated directly to Renaud, their profit would skyrocket if turned to resell. The leaders of Cimier were wary of such a move. All was all and good until the intervention of Jefferson’s. Totally unprovoked, the latter decided to enter the trade and have Lerado deal with them directly. Cimier saw it as a sly and dishonest move – the rest is history. These are what I can recall at this moment.*

*The massacre; it is indeed the work of Cimier. They dispatched their elite hitmen to carry out the elimination of the obstacle. It came as a surprise when I spotted lady Lerado, wife of the head of the family, passionately gazing upon the bachelor leader of the Jefferson’s. The conclusion drawn is an extramarital affair – I doubt the head of Lerado to be so oblivious. I’m sure the news reached his ears sooner or later. On a closing note, and this is purely my opinion, nothing factual, I highly suspect Cimier to be in a very close hidden relation with Godfather Stanley,* the waited report ended.

Smokes of the dead rose high as the mild shower turned into heavy-rainfall. The sound amplified as the rain hit hard on the metal-sheet covering parts of the building.

‘Godfather Stanley is involved, and the wife fled to the other younger man’s side. It doesn’t bother in the least. I know who is responsible, yet, there’s no proof tying them together. A letter from an unknown spy, one from the Blood-King Faction, isn’t going to hold weight in the underworld. Here, either capture red-handed else have sufficient proof.’ Scouring the faces, he came upon one of a handsome lady, curly short hair, a rounded nose with a moderate risen nose-bridge. Luscious lips, pierced ears; she wore heavy-black, the lady in mourning, the wife and mother of those who died. ‘Isn’t that her?’ glared Staxius unknowingly, it caught the lady by surprise who all but sniffled to turn into another man’s arm. Conveniently enough, the man was from the entourage of the head of the Jefferson family. ‘If she’s going around selling herself short to the top of Jefferson, this matter falls into a rather tight situation. The emotions of the remainder of the family are of disgust, sadness, and anger, anger at the lady.” The bodies were left to be cremated slowly as the family member’s left. Renaud was soon to join Staxius’s company on the way out.

“Ay, ay, ay,” he voiced loudly seeing not so pleasant vans, “-what is happening here?”

“Godfather Renaud,” came the leader of the now stomping hitmen of Stanley’s family, “-I didn’t expect you to be here.”

“If it ain’t Charlie,” said Renaud with a frown, “-the only reason you’re sent out is to exterminate threats, did Stanley order an attack?”

“Observant,” he paused with the face covered by a mask with a dark-blue one-piece jumpsuit, “-for even a child could figure that much out.”

“Who’s the target?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” he laughed and pointed at Shadow, “-the one who massacred the Jefferson’s will have to answer to justice.”

“What justice are you even talking about?” thundered Staxius, a step forward had the bystanders shudder. “If thou art going for an eye for an eye, then I suppose I hold a grudge.”

“May I ask who you are?”

“My name isn’t of importance, what is important is that you dared point fingers at Shadow and used a not so polite tone with Godfather Renaud. Dear me, I so hoped that basic manners be known to the lowest of imbeciles.”

“Don’t get so cocky,” a raise of the hand had countless guns face him, “-where’s all the bravado now?” he added after a second of silence.

“Bravado?” the face changed from distressed to blank, *Death Element: Hand of God,* without as much as blinking, gun muzzles were crushed with the slow agonizing sound of cracking. “I think you misunderstand,” he laughed, “-bravado is fake.” *Snap,* all weapons fell with a clang, “-now then, I think there’s room to discuss,” he smirked.