Trifecta: Nemesis Branch

(written by Karnal Sin)

Trifecta: Part 1

Karnal Sin sat in a room that reminded her of her cell in the Zig – less the filth – but definitely barren and boring. The walls were gray, but not a warm gray – rather a cold gray that was uninviting and slightly uneased her, with only the thin metal door breaking up the monotony. There was but a table in the room – rectangular – not unlike the kinds of tables you find in an interrogation room, except that her metal chair had quite comfortable cushioning, and all legs were the same length. The lights were decently illuminating – though, honestly, she’d prefer it be badly lit and let her imagination run wild with what COULD be in the room – blank walls were not visually or mentally appealing.

“I’m glad that you’re on board with this, sugar…” Karnal Sin spoke into the empty room, trying to keep herself occupied as she waited, “though I don’t know WHY they are making us wait. You think with all the trouble they went through to get us out of that prison they’d give us coffee or som-“

The door opened abruptly, cutting off her train of thought, and a tall, slender, unmasked man walked in. He was wearing a similar orange jumpsuit to her pants and had a controlled yet bewildered look on his face. Good looking, the man carried with him a disheveled demeanor, even though his attire was standard. His eyes darted across the room before finding a resting spot on her – Karnal couldn’t help but notice his eyes dilating for just a moment.

One of Judex’s ranks followed closely behind him and shut the door after he crossed the threshold. The masked man lifted a gloved hand towards the empty seat next to Karnal, his voice calm, “Please, have a seat, Judas.”

Karnal Sin racked her mind for the name, but she came up blank, cursing Kathryn for ever getting the implant removed. Her training and defenses kicked into high gear – resulting in her sitting relaxed in her seat, her knees crossed in Judas’s direction.

Judas flashed a smile at her, "Madam! Hey, look, we match!" An enthusiastic hand pointed to her jumpsuit.

Karnal Sin pursed her lips a little, her neck stretched as she looked up from her seat at Judas, "In more ways than one, I imagine..." she stood, barely reaching his shoulders before nodding, nearly bowing to him.

Judas nodded back at her and reached out his hand, "I highly doubt that. Judas Black."

Smirking at his rebuttal, Karnal took his hand, she held it gently, not really shaking it, "Kathryn Moore." She looked over at the Judge while still holding Judas's hand, "Sorry, I didn't think you'd be inclined to introduce us," she said while winking to the mask man.

Judas chimed in, "Pff, they're very busy not making any sense and being vague about it. You look familiar, though. Have we worked together before?" He recognized her from idly watching the television and seeing her on the news.

Turning back to Judas, Karnal tilted her head to the right; her brows furrowed ever so slightly, "Not to my recollection, though my memory is not what it used to be..."

“Maybe we do have a lot in common, then! Ditto." He let go of her hand then and sat down, he placed his legs, ankles crossed, onto her seat and smirked up at her. "Got an alias?"

Karnal Sin looked over at the Judge before turning her attention back at Judas, "Paragon calls me Karnal Sin...you are welcome to read into that what you will." She throws her head back laughing, a full laugh without maliciousness. "So I take it you were in the Zig, as well..." she continued as her laughter died down. She turned to the Judge, "Can you not give us something more suitable to wear? I feel on blast here..."

"Ohhh, so you're Xanny's Spoils of War." Judas gave her another look up and down. "I see war has its benefits!"

She narrowed her eyes a little at the title, "Hardly, but I understand why you would think that, pet."

Judas simply grinned at her, partially enjoying her obvious annoyance, "War gives all kinds of goodies, Miss Sin. But yes, I do agree, I tire of the orange jump suits. If you could, Jeeves."

The judge remained silent looking at them both without any sense of a facial expression before breaking the silence, his chin lifted, ignoring their inquiry, "We have brought you here for a specific purpose, Judas...Kathryn...AND Karnal..."

Judas looked between the Judge and Karnal Sin, “AND SLAPHAPPY,” pleased that he no longer felt left out.

Karnal Sin chuckled before the Judge continued, "Let us introduce OURSELVES then..."

The Judge sat back in his seat a bit, "We are an organization that was formed in response to the corruption of the system set in place in our society,” he paused for just a moment, "You both should have been killed for your crimes, and yet, here you are..."

Making a face, Karnal asked, "So you want us dead. Not a selling point, love..."

The Judge shook his head, "No. We want you very much alive. However, the fact that you two are sitting here with us only further drives home our point."

Judge Caesum turned to Judas, "Unlike your assumptions, Judas, we DO know what you want - both personally and existentially."

Judas stretched his arms and yawned, "Better take a seat, Sin. This might take awhile."
Karnal smiled over at Judas, "Indeed," as the Judge himself smirked.

"Judas, the system is broken. We want to fix it. We'd prefer a perceived chaos than to the perversion that is in place right now."

"That is a benefit of war..." Judas responded.

Caesum quickly looked to Karnal Sin, "Kathryn, like the Dominion, we want peace. But we want a peace that can be accomplished by means of the inside out."

Karnal nearly snarls at him addressing the other, but is subdued quickly by Kathryn, nodding at him, "Overseer never really did understand that aspect and always preferred brute force..."

Caesum stared between them, "And your other, personal agendas...well...we are an organization in which that information comes easily to us...and if you join us...can come easily to you."

Judas raised an eyebrow and looked to Karnal, "Is he coming onto us?" causing his new friend to throw her head back laughing genuinely.

She rested her hand on his knee, speaking through a smile, "Don't worry, love, I'll protect you.”

Judas snorted, "I highly doubt that," followed by a smile and a laugh, "All right Jeeves, we've heard the pitch. Now what?"

Kathryn maintained her grin, nodded to Caesum, her jaw clenched slightly as she speaks, “I may lack the ability to read your mind anymore, but I assure you, your mask doesn’t protect you from me detecting your lies, pet.” Her words eased off her tongue and into the air between them.

Caesum remained unphased, “We have but one catch.”

"Of course!" Judas pointed at the Judge accusingly, "Let me guess. It involves something we don't really want to do."

Caesum's mood lightened a little, "Actually, you two should enjoy this very much..." Judas turned his head towards Karnal and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, eliciting a playful wink from his new associate.

Caesum overlooked this completely, “Your first assignment is immediate and it is vital in its success.”

Karnal Sin’s mouth perked up to one side in a smirk, her chin tilting down, a perfectly manicured eyebrow raised in question.

“There is an individual we need to finish our plans,” Caesum continued, and even though they couldn’t see his eyes, both Judas and Karnal Sin could easily read his sincerity, “Sebastian Kain.”

Karnal Sin instinctively grinned at the name – she had nothing but positive memories of Sebastian, shared by both her and Kathryn – he had always supported her efforts and he was immensely stimulating to speak with. She knew that had it not been for him, she wouldn’t have even been able to return to her body.

Judas Black instinctively groaned at the name – he had nothing but negative memories of Sebastian, shared by both him and his allies– he had always sabotaged his efforts and Sebastian was immensely frustrating to deal with. He knew that had it not been for him, he would have even been able to return Paragon to better conditions.

“Do this for us – and we will give each of you what you want – well…” he trailed his words emphatically, “We will give you the means in which to take what you want.”

Karnal Sin’s tongue slid across her teeth as she grinned, looking over to Judas, “Well, my sweet, I believe this is going to be fun.”

Judas ran a hand down his face. "Yes, I agree." His smile returned to his face. "I'm going to enjoy this." As much as he was not looking forward to it, it should be enjoyable with Karnal by his side. He is not sure what she can do, but his gut tells him she would be able to stop Sebastian from shanking his face, in the worst case scenario.

Kathryn’s voice rang in Karnal Sin’s ears: How are we going to get to him in prison?

Karnal Sin’s brows furrowed as she spoke, “A thought occurred to me – how are we going to get to him?”

The Judge smiled, the tips of his lips tickling the corners of his mask, “Leave that to us.

(written by Numerology)

A Less Timely Intervention

He had been sitting at the bar for several minutes before slowly removing his helmet. As he looked around the haze of the last few days returned as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights and dusty space. There was some sound, it sounded like static though he knew it was the news or some radio programme playing quietly in the background.

‘Still in the costume then?’

He looked up at the barman, whose bulk towered over the counter. Had there been a bit of light in the dingy building there certainly would be a dark shadow cast upon the patron. Not that he needed any extra darkness after the past few days. He tried to focus on the man before him before eventually giving up and closing his eyes, and resting his head on the counter.

‘Yeah, about what I expected after that chaos you caused last night. How many did you have?’ The barman walked away, grabbing a glass and talking absent minded all the while. ‘You know, that was a pretty good trick confusing that Marcone thug so he didn’t bottle you. Shame you sent him after his boss though. Just when I thought he was going to crack you right across the head, he stopped and got some weird look across his face.’ The barman also stopped, attempting to make a similar face, laughing the entire time. Unfortunately his audience was struggling with a severe hangover and there were no others to enjoy the spectacle. It, sadly, went unnoticed.

‘So he got that look on his face and flopped around. And then “Crack!” right across the head! Glass sprayed everywhere and the boss was out cold. The way the rest of the gang crowded around to get a punch on the goon was a great sight. You’ve got a knack for it Colm. It’s why I hired you, anyway. And why I don’t bother to throw you out and ban you after all the stunts you pull and the disasters that follow. Good for a laugh, you know?’

Finally, Colm let out a pitiful moan. ‘Just a laugh?’

It definitely was not looking like an improvement from previous days already. Not only was his head pounding now while nausea built up, the barman was trying to make jokes. Definitely not a good start. The man behind the bar began to pour a pint, continuing to congratulate Colm on a terrible, but none the less entertaining, job well done.

‘Here, I imagine you will need this. Something to perk you up and get the ball rolling.’

The man in the costume just sighed, not moving his head from the spot, hoping that the throbbing would subside. It had been several months since he arrived. Several months of drinking and gambling and a few other more perverse activities and he still found himself in this same dump most nights. Blackbeard’s Pub certainly wasn’t the nicest place he could chose to visit. There was always the allure of the Golden Giza, though his debts weren’t exactly “squared away” at the moment and money was tight. That was an issue he would need to clear up. An issue he was also completely stuck with at the moment. There was a constant thought bugging him. Where is Sebastian Kain? While he didn’t believe that Kain was “needed”, a bit of pay certainly couldn’t hurt.

To think he had some sort of grand ideas when he arrived. Make a name for himself, separate from his sister, and more importantly, different from before. What kind of name is “Numerology” anyway? He arrived to this cursed island, looking to make a name for himself and instead was treated like dirt. Sure, it might have been presumptuous to expect people here to know who he was, and his insistence on claiming a name for himself probably turned a few heads and incited a fair amount of pointing and laughing behind his back, but he, Colm McCain, had been making a few waves. Well he had been before everything apparently fell apart around him. Maybe it wasn’t waves. He was probably the boat riding someone else’s waves. And, continuing the terrible metaphor he constructed, those waves were going to smash the boat on some rocks sooner or later. It seemed like things just weren’t meant to work in his favour.

And even if Sebastian Kain were to turn up, as was always the chance of with his entirely unnerving disappearances and subsequent reappearances, there were some issues that even money wouldn’t help. There was that strange occurrence where that cybernetic creep cornered him, picked him up by the throat and demanded to know who was leading ERA. Of course, sending the crazed cyborg after Bioshift might not have been the brightest move looking back on it now, but it was settled already. At least he was in the clear, though Colm was already realising how this could backfire.

‘Well, this is going to be a lot more interesting than I thought…’ He muttered the words to himself, though the barman overheard. Thankfully, some coincidence ensured they weren’t too out of context. Maybe things could turn for the better.

‘You don’t remember? Must have been drunker than you late on. The real laugh started once one of those mooks spilled a drink belonging to that Arachnos agent. Then the sparks really started. Well, they almost started a fire but we got it under control quick.’

‘This happened because of me?’ He posed the question, without really intending it to be. He just didn’t remember a fire in the least. ‘I probably need to cut back a bit.’

‘Hey, it is all a good laugh now. Last night was infinitely better than that time you drunkenly decided to confuse those Hellions one by one as they entered the pub. Having to clean up the next morning and explain what happened to the boss wasn’t easy you know.’

At last he stirred. He sat up, almost painfully slowly, as the barman looked on. ‘No, that wasn’t a finer moment of mine. But you can’t say I didn’t make ya laugh with that one.’ Colm smiled, painfully, and took a sip from the drink in front of him. ‘Ya never asked me to stop and that was weeks ago. I scaled it back a bit for ya anyway though.’

He looked around him, his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness of the room before setting his gaze back upon the drink in front of him. There were so many he had come into contact with since arriving to the Isles, yet he wasn’t sure what to make of his place among them. The fortune teller, despite their several encounters, was as dismissive as ever and she was far from the only one. There was that bunch associating with Slaphappy as well. Their reaction was similar. Remarkably similar. Now, he didn’t mind Slaphappy, the guy made his choice, went his own way. Sure he was tied to ERA, but he wasn’t blinded by devotion. Slaphappy got stuff done, and was respected for it. The company he kept recently, that was another matter. There was that blonde who kept vanishing and the ginger girl who almost dismissed him outright. Why was that that? What am I doing wrong?

‘Say, Davey, why do you insist on calling me Colm?’

The barman stopped and looked confused for a second. ‘Well, it is your name. I make it a habit of calling my employees by a name.’

Colm sneered and replied, ‘That isn’t what I meant.’

‘You mean why don’t I call you by that terrible name you are trying to go by? Numb or something like that?’

There was a silence which Colm thought went on just a bit too long.

‘Ya got it right there. Well, almost.’

‘Well, I’m going to be frank. Don’t got to go messing with my head or anything. But really, what have you done? Don’t make that face, hear me out. Some guys, you see, they got it, they have the deeds to back them up. I know the names of some others you were associated with and they earned those names. Built up a reputation, maybe not a successful reputation, but they did stuff. You, well, I can’t say what you’ve done. Or even what you haven’t done. You just work for me.’

The barman shrugged. He shrugged off the months spent in the Isles. The time it took to track down Sebastian Kain. All the effort Colm had put into finding a way “in”, a way to make a name. It was all tossed away and he was left taking tips off a barman to keep the regulars around Port Oaks in line for a pittance. But it was the truth. And with it, Colm was left with the fragments he tried desperately to hold together.

Colm suddenly jumped alert, and the pain of his hangover shot through his body. Of course he regretted the motion, but the radio captured his attention. He was certain that the radio had said words which would turn out to be more important than any others he had heard before.

‘…Kain was in custody today.’

Kain? Sebastian Kain? He had missed the first name. But there was the glimmer of hope there. He needed to take it.

‘Mind if I head out for a bit? No? I didn’t think so.’

The barman suddenly froze as if paralysed. Colm stood up, shakily, grabbed his helmet and walked out the door. A trickle of blood began to flow from the barman’s nose.

(written by Kichi)

One single mind, set for an eternity of thought processes – cells overworking themselves, past their expiration point. You can acquire wisdom, life lessons, and every day scenarios over and over and it can lead to insanity. Whether it’s watching those you love die or the world around you change so rapidly - that just when you figure you're finally a modern citizen, suddenly you find - you're still old fashioned and lost the point in evolving yourself. What of those immortals who were already loners from the start? The ones who preferred themselves, rather than others surrounding them, and giving them a sense of societal pressures? Wisdom is merely an argument against other's judgments – a simple play on words. Anyone, given a quick thought process and listening ear, can veil any sentence to be a word of wisdom. Anyone can manipulate others into thinking, 'Because it was said this way, it seems like a valid point.' For Kichi, it was that simple – manipulating words, sentences, and thought processes into sounding as she was speaking true words of wisdom. People would tend to stand by those manipulating words, agreeing with the supposed valid point. Taking a human life? Killing freely, simply for the gain of more money to fill your wallet? Where was the wisdom that led this woman not to be sought out as a monster? Simple – unique life style choice.


Kichi was immortal, un-killable, and never aging; what real reason would she need money for? No one has the real ideal of why someone has the true judgment of whether someone should live or die. If God wished us not to kill, why give us the option to? What, it’s just some test for purity, to have us see that a life is worth holding back your weapons? Why give us the skill we obviously have, if not to use it? Animals kill other animals – for dominance, food, order.


In this day and age, animals can stand upright and speak. They are simply man, too. Should we tell them not to do what they were born doing? Man did the same as mere cavemen. Survival is the key, not purity. But of course, though true judgment of life is hard to find - most of us still have our self respect. Not to kill true innocents or children. However, that can still be altered with manipulated wisdom.

Martyrs, innocents killed for the cause.

Children who were born to destroy the world, fate as it were - those should be dealt with early, correct?

Abortions – saving a child from a life of hate, pain and hard upbringing. Say what you want, that is still an area of murder. Being paid to kill who others think is the right choice to kill, why argue with it?

See, immortals like Kichi, the 'true flame assassin', have too much time in their hands to realize the world is simply that – a world – full of different sets of minds and morals.

But given the right push…anyone's mindset can be manipulated.


It was a quiet night. The fire pit in Saint Martial burned a bit darker that day. Maybe it was the colder weather, who knew. The Isles tend to have fairly random sets of hot, cold, neutral days.

Kichi stood by and watched the fire pit idly. This is where she tended to over-think, to manipulate her own self with thought processes.

Why gain friends? What is TRULY a friend? Why do we find types of food more delicious? We all mush it in our mouths and shove it down a hole, ending up in our stomachs. What is the point in taste buds, then? To make us believe life can get better with a mere taste of something?

These types of random thoughts came to a halt. There was an unfamiliar heat pattern felt. The crimson eyes of the over-thinker darted around to find the intrusion, finally coming to rest upon a man - dressed in black and white. His face was covered, aside from his mouth. He seemed like a drone, nothing more than a messenger. Everyone is so easy to gain a life story from, just by a simple glance.

"We have been watching you." He says, his tone devoid of emotion or inflection.

"Many do." She could have asked, 'we?' but why bother?

"You have lost your judgment. We wish for you to regain it."

"Many think they can decide my sense of judgment for me."

"Like your father?"

There was something in the way he uttered those words. 'Like your father?' The masked man had a winning poker face, he never even referred to himself as a person, simply as a 'we', yet he was going with a personal route. Was he attempting to manipulate the manipulation master?

"Like my father, correct." She retorted, her own poker face strong.

"We wish to know if you agree with his sense of judgment."

"Why does it matter?"

"You seem to have issues with people deciding what's wrong, and what's not. Do you wish to be free of that?"

"Who doesn’t?"

"We think you seek actual order. We can offer that."

She's heard that line, one in a million times. But…something about his utter distaste for being singular, his ease with being a plural – it caught her interest.

It is odd, seeing as how being a lone wolf made her happy, or an ideal of happy. But what is the most alone a person can be?

Not having your own identity, at all.

Her chin raises, "You aren't really telling me what that offer is."

"You're on trial, being judged. We wish to give you an assignment. Do you accept?"

Kichi remains silent, waiting for him to go on.

The masked man takes the hint, "We wish for you to break your father's underground control. Get rid of his resources. Make him temporarily powerless, and free yourself of his reign."

Free of his reign? Betraying the 'flame assassins'?

"We will be in contact," and without waiting for a response, he simply walked away. Kichi felt he knew better, than for her to ask more questions.

The word assignment seemed so simple. But this task would magnify into the hardest thing she has ever done. Everything her family has worked for, she was going to cut a simple string, leaving it - even for a moment, temporarily powerless. It could take months, maybe years - to rebuild those resources.

He was right. The thought did feel freeing. Maybe there is a real judgment out there.

((I think that the rest of the newcomers should post their entry into Judex here))