What a perfect ending to my day. Two powers, two pieces, two less Cowls to cull. I do not doubt that Isaiah made quite the impression on the Heroes' Union and the Villains' Syndicate. Which reminds me, I need to check on Roschach's progress with Nicholas in sending that letter to the mayor's office. If Kai has finished the base, then Momentus Inc. can finally begin operations. I type my door code in and enter my apartment. Violet is officially persona non grata. No more warmth or kindness. All she's going to get is cold and indifferent. It's not like I don't understand where she's coming from. If I were her, I'd want me too.

Echochamber and Null's abilities are very interesting to think about. Selling Null's ability has the chance of harming my own cause if it goes to someone who might end up opposing me. It could also augment one of my own to be even more effective. Echochamber's power, on the other hand, is only useful to groups that already have Neuvohumans, and it is the ideal candidate for selling to The Merchants. Their personality pieces are both valuable to me. Null's gift is his sense of humor. Echochamber's personality piece is narcissism, but that's just confidence misunderstood by others. I've been thinking of these pieces all wrong; none of them are bad. Because I can't possibly have bad personality pieces.

The slip of paper with Sy's name and number is still in my pocket. I take it out, add his contact information, and send him my username so he can pay me back. Sure enough, my phone chimes with the notification that he's sent me the money from lunch. I need to spend some time sketching out and brainstorming ideas for Nobody's suit. Something that truly encapsulates the iconic gravitas of him. The man who can do anything. The notification number is over fifty. The group chat is going crazy with everyone else asking about Violet and me. Looks like they saw the news. I wonder if they have a separate groupchat without me where they discuss Cape stuff. I message that I'm fine and need to sleep it off. I could really go for a drink. I shoot Sy a text, asking about any potential parties tonight. Lucky for me, there is a house party. I'm getting trashed tonight.

I've decided to wear the new clothes I bought with Violet. Black, ripped skinny jeans, with the gold-trimmed Eclissi belt that has the brand's logo prominently on the buckle. I put on a pair of brown, heeled, leather boots that I bought with Maria a year ago. The top is a short-sleeved, deep forest green button-up with light pink and purple flowers that Violet said complements my eyes. I undo the top three buttons, anymore, and the scars would be visible. My mask's ring and my new watch are the only accessories. I slide my mask into the inner pocket of the chestnut suede jacket. Just in case. Do I need my gun? I decline to bring a weapon; that'll only cause problems if someone sees it. I take a second to look in the mirror, inspecting myself. Perfect. I'm meeting Sy at his dorm, and then we'll head over to the party together.

I spot Sy before he sees me. He's wearing a crisp white Polo shirt with black diamonds dotting it underneath a black bomber jacket. His shirt is tucked into dark blue jeans with the legs rolled up and a pair of black Nikes. His mustache is waxed and twisted at the ends. A pair of sunglasses and a white fisherman's beanie finish his outfit. The two of us look good. I obviously look better, but he doesn't look bad.

"Damn man, you look hot," Sy exclaimed.

"Thanks, I try. You're not too shabby yourself."

"I hope the ladies at the party agree with you. I'm not trying to go home alone. It's college, I'm in my slut era and I want to spend it accordingly. What about you? Are you looking for a night companion?" Sy asked.

"You sound like an innkeeper trying to sell me the town prostitute," I joked. "I'm just going to have fun and drink. I got a lot on my mind and I want to forget about it for at least a night," I said somberly.

Things are only going to get more complicated. Wrestling with the loss of my friendship with Vivienne, plus all the other human components composing my brain, would take its toll on anyone. Nothing a hard drink can't solve.

"I feel you. My classes are kicking my ass. I'm so busy, I haven't been able to make any friends besides you," Sy said, his toothy grin the definition of sincere.

He may be struggling on the social front, but I have the opposite problem. I have more friends than I want or need. Not even mentioning romantic prospects, which are a nightmare to deal with. My ex is decomposing in a forest while a Cape is trying to jump my bones. My only goal for the night is not to get involved with any bullshit and to drink till I'm numb.

"I guess I got lucky that a friend from my hometown chose to go here as well."

"So there's someone else who was also? Sorry," Sy winced. "Hey, I know this is definitely overstepping, especially since we've only hung out like twice, but the campus has a group for people to talk about things like that. I'm a part of it, and it's really done a lot for me. Sessions are on Wednesdays at 6:30 p.m. on the third floor of the Ryhder Haines library," he rattled off quickly. "Now that I've done my mandatory foot-in-mouth moment, we can get going," Sy chuckled uncomfortably.

"Group therapy isn't really my thing. And it's a bit of a vibe killer to bring up right before we're going out. Pro tip: don't tell any of the girls at the party that they need therapy and that you know a place. It'll severely hurt your chances of hooking up," I said, deadpan. "Now, where on campus is the party?" I asked.

"It's not. It's one of those secret warehouse parties that you need a codeword to get into," he answered.

"Wait, you made me meet you here so we could go to a party on the other side of town, which is closer to my apartment?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, I don't know where you live, and we both know where campus is, so this seemed the best solution."

"Whatever. How did you hear about this party?"

"Group therapy," Sy grinned.

"God, I think I'm starting to hate you," I said sarcastically. "What's the address? I'll call us a ride."

The warehouse party is in the same district as the Momentus Inc. base. The poorly lit street is empty of cars and people. Our car pulls up, and we get out. I rate the driver five stars and send a tip. The warehouse in question is much cleaner than any of the others surrounding it. Sy leads me around the back, through the darkness, till we get to the entrance. The top windows are full of flashing lights, and DnB is blasting out the door every time the bouncers open them.

A single overhead lamp is the only light source out here. Every person in line is dressed to the nines, and even the worst-dressed are still stylish. Attractive women on the arms of dangerous-looking guys, and groups of young socialites with more wealth than sense wait together. Two guys, both carrying and not trying to hide it, are guarding the door. Obviously, the illegal warehouse party wouldn't be run by regular organizers, but these guys look like they're gang bangers. We get in line behind two women wearing very little. The curvy, dark-skinned redhead has a short, shimmering green dress that looks like snakeskin. Her friend, judging by their closeness, is tall, but with a similar build to Vivienne. Her biceps are clear and defined, as is her six-pack on display. She's wearing a black mini skirt and a leather top that only covers her chest. Her long black hair cascades down her back. Sy looks like he wants to talk to them, but I shake my head. We need to get an understanding of the rules and vibe inside before doing anything. You never know who could turn out to be some gangster's girl, and then the night is ruined. I'm not getting shot so that Sy can get his dick wet.

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The night air is cooling down as we slowly move up to the entrance. The bouncers have already sent four full groups away. That codeword rule is no joke. From eavesdropping on the women in front of us, I've learned that they don't know the codeword tonight. Amara is the redhead, and the other woman is Viola. Viola's accent is hard to place, but clearly she's a transplant or just visiting her friend. They're older than we are, twenty-one and twenty-two respectively. Amara is a Quinstin native, but neither of them goes to QUTD. The line in front of us dwindles until it's time for Viola and Amara.

"What's tonight's codeword?" The bouncer asked.

Black, late twenties, prominently featured gang tattoos. He's wearing a faded gray suit jacket and pants, but no shirt. His stomach has a large scar down the front of it. His pistol is sticking out of his waistband. The other guy with him is just as tall but much skinnier. Asian, middle-aged, missing two fingers on his left hand. A collared black shirt with the sleeves ripped off, tucked into a pair of chinos, and construction boots. His hair is slicked back, and he has a thin moustache. Swirling blue clouds surround a red dragon tattoo on his left arm, and an expensive gold watch is on his right wrist. He's got a leather shoulder holster over his shirt, and he keeps eyeing his gun. Based on the ethnicity of the bouncers and the location of this party, I'm pretty sure the Triad runs it. The girls are stammering as they try to figure out what to say to the bouncer. This party was a bad idea. The Triad is a headache waiting to happen. I turn to tell Sy we should just leave when he steps forward between the bouncers and the girls.

"The codeword is Neptune, and the second codeword is Pluto," Sy said, keeping his voice low.

The larger bouncer nods once and opens the door behind him.

"Those two are with us," he said, beckoning the women to follow.

I definitely should have brought my gun. They hurry in after us and start fawning over how cool Sy was and how he knew the codeword. I tune them out, letting him have the attention. He needs all the help he can get. What did the second codeword mean? Why is there a second codeword? How did he know it? The music in the warehouse is bumping, the bass so loud my chest rattles. I thought this was a one-off party, but they've completely transformed this place into a club. There's a DJ above us on a hanging platform attached to the scaffolding, mixing and controlling everything from the music to the lights. There are three separate bars for people to buy drinks, and all of them are busy. The place smells of sweat, barely covered up by the vape and weed smoke. Dancers of all varieties are on raised platforms with people throwing cash at them. The dance floor is full of at least a hundred people, grinding and gyrating against each other to the beat.

There's a second floor only accessible by steep stairs, cut off from everyone else, where I spot people lounging on couches, drinking bottles, and snorting cocaine off of half-naked, or fully naked men and women. Despite the isolated nature of the section, everything they're doing is on display for the rest of us to see. I've got to give the Triad credit for creativity; I didn't think there were that many ways to snort coke off someone's dick. Gang members stand guard on the stairs leading to them, preventing or allowing people to enter. It's a den of indulgence, sexuality, and hedonism. The sheer amount of skin-on-skin contact is entirely unappealing to me. I need to get that drink if I'm going to be around this many horny, high idiots.

"Hey, Sy, I'm going to head over to the bar to get a drink. I'll be right back," I lied, shouting over the music.

Sy smiles at me and mouths thank you at me as he whispers something in Viola's ear. She giggles and playfully shoves him. I skirt along the outside of the dance floor, not wanting to brave the sea of bodies. The sooner I get a drink, the sooner this all becomes much more tolerable. I walk up to the bar with the least amount of people at it and do a double-take at the bartender. Pasty white freckled skin, bright red hair, ample cleavage visible, and even wearing the same black pencil skirt. Her top is different, a low-cut pink shirt instead of the blouse, but I never forget a face. It's the woman from the Doublin' Down that Isaiah flirted with. The question is whether this is a coincidence or if I just figured out who the O'Rourkes were working for—small world.

"Hey, what can I get ya?" She asked.

"I'll take a shot of vodka, and then a second one right after," I answered, smiling mirthlessly.

"One of those nights? I'll drink to that," she said, pouring two shots for me and two for herself.

We knock the first back, slamming the shot glasses down, and I reach for my second shot immediately. She has to be drinking water, must've switched it without me noticing. Either that or she's working hard to live up to Irish stereotypes. I don't care either way. I'm here to drink. I hold up another two fingers, and she pours me two more shots. They go down smoother than the first two, the warm burn starting to fill my stomach. My body relaxes, thoughts of Nobody, Violet, and college finally not completely dominating my thoughts.

"So you doin' a tab or?" The bartender asked me.

"Tab," I said, handing my card to her. "Do you have anything tasty and sippable? Something that says 'my daddy owns an emerald mine'. I'm feeling sophisticated."

She laughs, and I realize that I don't have to be Eryk or Nobody here at this moment. I don't have to pretend to care about anything or anyone. It's freeing in a way. I can just enjoy myself and have fun.

"You know what, Eryk, I think I got just the thing for you: sex on the beach," she said, reading my card before putting it behind the bar.

"Sounds absolutely delightful."

She hands me my cocktail, complete with cherries on top, and I start sipping as I walk away. It's sweet. Cloyingly sweet, to the point that if it didn't have alcohol, I wouldn't even drink it. The sugar from the juice and whatever else is in here is already coating my tongue in a film. Gross. I continue sipping as a man with the letters BKB tattooed over his left eyebrow approaches me. Triad. He eyes me up and down, looking for something. I smile and give him a head nod as he walks past. No matter what, I'm not getting involved in any Triad business tonight.

The Triad is composed of three smaller gangs that realized they were vastly outnumbered and losing territory to the other Cowl groups. Surrounded by enemies and fearing being picked apart, the three leaders joined forces to create a more secure power base in Quinstin's criminal underground. The Brick Kings Bloc, aka the BKB, was a small clique of drug-dealing gang bangers. Their leader is Xander 'X-Train' Trainer, an intelligent, charming man who can teleport in fifteen-foot increments. Every jump he makes creates a clone of ash where he was standing. These clones last for thirty seconds and can follow his commands. He can make them explode if needed. They have one other Neuvohuman besides X-Train, a female Cowl called Vixen. She's X-Train's right-hand woman with some sort of emotional ability. Research didn't turn up any concrete information about her power. The BKB had the most soldiers before the merger, but lacked in territory and product.

The second gang was the Eastern Dragon Group, EDG for short, led by Lady Zhen Xue. She's a Ruler who summons dragons born from her blood. Her power is the reason for the group's name. She's the oldest member of the Triad, fiercely loyal to her people, and incredibly cruel in managing her drug trade. Her group had the most Neuvohumans at one point, with five. That included herself and three others being known as the dragons of the EDG, with a fifth, less powerful Neuvohuman. Lee Daeshim, the electricity manipulator that Vivienne fought at the docks, was one of the dragons. Aubrey fucking up that drug deal made her lose all those foot soldiers, Dynax, and one of the dragons which greatly weakened her group. Gio, the Italian mafioso I killed that night, belonged to a different Cowl group in Quinstin: the Cavallaro Family. The shitshow at the Crimton docks caused the Cavallaro Family to start targeting the EDG. Even without meaning to, I bleed my enemies with every move I make. Truly, I must be God's favorite. They had fewer than eight members by the time they were forced to join the Triad. The two remaining dragons are FrostWyrm, who can coat his hands in freezing ice claws, and Lin, whose powers aren't known, but they are apparently very deadly.

The final gang that makes up the Triad is Unidad 50x. Led by TigerHawk, real name Pedro Martin Castro Diaz, a Shifter who deals in protection and enforcement. He has three Neuvohuman lieutenants: Shock&Awe who can produce electrical currents from his hands, Triage, who can enhance and control fabrics, and Ultra Rey Fantástico, a Mentalist who has imprecise telekinesis. The Unidad 50x is only those four members, and they are muscle and just that. Without the other two gangs, they would have eventually started a fight they couldn't handle and died for it.

The BKB, EDG, and Unidad 50x would have been completely swallowed by one of the other four Cowl groups, but X-Train's idea saved them all. The three leaders may be equals, but he's the real mind behind the group. TigerHawk is an idiot, and Lady Zhen Xue is vindictive and short-sighted. When I eventually start making moves against the Triad, it is X-Train that I will be contending with. Ending up at a club run by a group I'm going to have to deal with is incredibly unlucky. I take another long sip of my drink, pushing the thoughts out of my mind. Just here to have fun.

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