"You gotta be kidding me," the complaint was easily uttered as me and McGraw exited the car, walking toward an abandoned mall near a deserted highway, the fourth or fifth place Dr. Parker's info lead us to check out. In spite of his irritating lecture-length talk, a few things he said got us to look into the types of machinery and materials needed to possibly make Hierarchs; fortunately many of those elements were rare and regulated enough that tracking sales, purchases, and even transporting in some cases could be narrowed down. But every place we'd hit was struck with some kind of accident or abandonment, leading me to believe that even if anything was there, it was well-sanitized before we could get to it.
"Quit griping," McGraw told me a few times, excited about how he had a good feeling about this place. He had a good feeling about all of them, always sure that we'd strike gold, though he did seem even more excited with this one. I had a feeling about this one too; something about it reminded me of those set pieces in the crappy Hierarch Hero comics, or worse yet, my last field op at the warehouse. I told him to make sure to keep home base on standby alert if he was so sure about it, in case we were both right.
Old structural layouts, satellite photos, and instruments meant to detect trace forms of specific radiations kept us from having to search every empty space for clues. McGraw's intuition took him to the fountain area, a place he expected to open up to reveal some entrance to an underground lab. I watched him look everywhere there could be a place from the second floor, partly because it was funny to watch him move around like an aimless, overstimulated puppy. My own strangely sure-of-itself intuition was another reason the second floor held more appeal. Something about the floor plans of what was directly beneath some old shops, and because I swore I could hear electric hums nearby, muffled behind something.
Before I could tell McGraw about it, he called down to me about something he'd found around the fountain's base. It looked like some kind of loose wiring he'd pulled at to a point where it lay flat. For higher above, it reminded me of trip wiring Radio had briefed Epsilon on what to look out for. If it was though, it'd already been tripped, and something should've been sprung, or some silent alert had gone out.
"Congratulations," I spoke a little flatly, his discovery confirming that this place was exactly what we were looking for, a place an outfit like Hierguild wouldn't so easily let Epsilon traipse around. Despite his excitement, I started shuffling us both out to leave and call for reinforcements.
A crash from the ceiling followed by a ground-shaking impact near us on our way to the exit proved my point. McGraw yelped in panic like I did my first time this kind of introduction was made; I yelped a little bit too as we felt a little ways away, but hearing the loud foot stomps made me sigh in the dust and rubble as I found myself picked up with ease by our clothing.
"Hey Tovarisch! Been a while." The giant muscle mountain simply named "Mountain" greeted me.
Staring over at McGraw's scared-shitless face made me keep my laughing to myself as I sighed with my head down; it reminded me of me first time I ran into Mountain, his scary looks belying his personality.
"Hey Π³ΠΎΡΠ°," I replied back calmly, relaxed as I at least knew we wouldn't be harmed by him. Despite imposing heights of 7ft when normal and 20ft when fully in his Hierarch form, Hierguild's quintessential muscle was a pretty laid back adversary, rarely putting the full force of his power toward anyone, merely loving to toy with everyone smaller than him, which was everyone. He especially liked me since I was the only other person in his orbit speaking fluent Russian, treating and condescending to me like a little brother. If it wasn't for disdain I got everytime my teammates told me "Mountain said hi" after dealing with him, or guilt from how Radio's hospitalization happened thanks to an accident involving me and Mountain flicking chunks of debris away, I would've been genuinely happy to see him. But my half-smiling demeanor wasn't all fake as we spoke mundane "how was your day" stuff in his native tongue as he knocked at some concrete for some pieces of rebar to hang us on.
"So, you and your doctor friend come across anything interesting lately?" We were questioned with a knowing smile.
"If I said no, would you let us go and pretend this didn't happen?"
"Unlikely..." A slimy tone came from above us, crawling down like a four-legged serpent to reveal Toxic, Hierguild's industrial toxic waste-spitting "ugly" member, very much despite his movie star looks. "You little pests always sticking your noses where they don't belong. Makes me want to take care of you before lunch, or for lunch..." Crawling near my body to levy those threats was bad enough, but that purposefully-bad breath almost made me vomit all over him.
"Ah ah, you don't touch that one," Mountain defended me.
"What about the other one? He smells...fearful."
Mountain just looked at McGraw, and shrugged his shoulders.
"Enough of that, gentlemen," came from the exit we never made it to, from Driver, head of Hierguild's taskforce. A former Air Force colonel, he was on his way to even higher military rankings before he got outed as Hierarch, with the ability to operate any man-made piece of machinery with inhuman precision. Like Radio, he was proof that Hierarch operations loved utilizing exiled soldiers for leadership positions.
"We're here for information first."
"I seriously doubt we know anything that useful to you guys," I had to appear to be the brave one for once, with a companion obviously not equipped for combat, or the kind of interrogating they'd have in-mind.
"Don't sell yourselves short, Half. You found this place after all."
"What? Epsilon can't be scouting out real estate for expansion?"
The older leader just shook his salt-and-pepper head, either amused at the excuse, or how the once-new Epsilon recruit wasn't the one shitting his pants anymore.
"If you're going to insist on questioning us, I've got some of my own."
Everyone looked towards McGraw, slightly amused at his nervous gumption.
"Hierarch scientist?" Driver asked me, getting a confirming nod from me.
McGraw looked back at everyone else, confused about the joke he wasn't in on.
"Only a Hierarch scientist would have the adequately-sized balls to go along with their inflated curiosity. Even when it could hurt them," Driver helpfully explained.
"You might be hurting us anyway; might as well get something out of it," was McGraw's retort.
Toxic and McGraw were lucky Hier-Half was a no-show, lest I found a way to whack McGraw to unconsciousness using Toxic's body. Why he thought trading words that might lead to intel with the opponent we were investigating was any kind of good idea frustrated me to no end.
"Trafficking was bad enough, but now you're making Hierarchs?"
"You say 'trafficking', we say 'drafting.' Is Epsilon really so different?"