HI3: Previous Civilization

"To live without hope is to cease to live." – Fyodor Dostoevsky

Deep in a dark room, a group of figures sat around a table. Each wore a hooded cloak, a voice changer strapped at the neck—like rats skulking in shadows.

One person growled, "Can't any of you come up with something? Are we just going to let Dawn Pharmaceuticals keep growing?"

Another clutched his chest. "Exactly—seeing Dawn Pharma showering everyone with cheap meds just kills me. If it were up to me, I'd sell those miracle drugs for at least ten times the price. Or fifty. Or a hundred!"

…

The room turned into a chorus of complaints, each taking a turn to lament how Dawn Pharma "didn't know how to make money," handing out wondrous cures at bargain prices to commoners.

Suddenly, the man in the center slammed the table hard, the crack echoing:

"Enough. Shut up, all of you. I called you here to find a solution, not to hear your whining."

"Figure out something fast—otherwise, we're finished."

One voice piped up: "Maybe we can stage some incident—hire people to extort the Dawn Pharma CEO into handing over the formula." Nods all around. Seemed like a decent plan.

But another sighed: "Forget it. I tried hiring pros. The second they heard the target was Dawn Pharma, they refused. I wouldn't give up, so I asked a bunch more, but they all said no."

Yet another suggested: "What if we talk to the government?"

The central figure pounded the table again.

"Shut it! You think I didn't try? It's pointless. I've paid a ton of bribes for intel. Word is that the top brass have a good relationship with Dawn's backer. They cut a deal, but I've no idea what it is."

Everyone fell silent.

Then a new voice spoke in the thick gloom: "We could hire an assassin. Take out Dawn Pharma's upper management. Especially the real controller, that 'Fan.' If we eliminate him, whatever arrangements he made with officials die with him. And then we can see who gets the biggest slice."

The conspirators murmured in agreement.

"Right," the man in the center said. "We each chip in one billion. That should—"

Nobody answered.

"Speak up! Cat got your tongues? You've all gone mute now?"

Someone beside him hesitantly said, "Boss, that's probably too much. A single billion total—"

Slap! The "boss" sent him flying with one backhand.

"Idiots. You think an assassin is a fool? This job's way too high risk for low pay. You know how deep Dawn Pharma's roots run? The kind of security they've got? One billion combined? Ridiculous. Only reckless fools would take that job, and they'd fail for sure.

"We'll pool twenty billion. That'll catch their eye. Then we can bet real professionals will show. Understood? Raise your hands if you agree."

After some hesitation, everyone voted yes. The ringleader gave a satisfied nod, then his voice abruptly shifted pitch:

"Excellent. In that case… I'll send you all on your way."

Realizing something was off, the others tried to reach for weapons. But bullets whizzed through the darkness, and red flowers of blood splattered across the floor. The "boss" calmly sipped tea from a cup in front of him.

In that instant, the dimly lit room blazed bright. Several armored figures in power suits stepped forward, brandishing grenade launchers and lugging huge ammunition packs. They lined up neatly behind the man, who'd just removed his cloak.

One soldier approached, saluting.

"Maya, ma'am. All dealt with. Their businesses are already being seized by our people."

"Good," came a crisp, clear voice.

The "man" in the center whipped off the robe, revealing a youthful face. She wore a gleaming white-silver exoskeleton with a tall blue sword on her back. It looked top-of-the-line—indeed, it was forged of Soulsteel. Equipped with vital-support systems and twin micro ark reactors, it could even break atmosphere for brief orbital combat. That sword could transform into a beam rifle for linear energy blasts.

This was Maya, Yàn's adoptive daughter and one of the earliest members of Break of Dawn. Gazing at the crimson-stained floor, her eyes glinted with an icy menace as she spat:

"They dared plan to assassinate our boss. They deserved to die."

She exhaled.

"Our leader is too kind, always saying we should spare those who oppose us, maybe send them to the 'power plant' or something. But if they threaten him, I'll kill them all. As for the so-called 'assassin guild,' we'll wipe them out eventually. Nobody who targets our glorious leader deserves to keep living."

If that assassin syndicate only knew…

Truly, Maya was still "kind" in her own way. Had she understood what "power plant" truly meant, she would have realized:

"Welcome to the 19th level of hell… right on Earth."

Waving to the heavily armed fighters behind her, she departed. Soon after, a cleanup squad in hazmat suits arrived, each uniform emblazoned with "Dawn Crematorium."