24.5

March 3, 2070, at 0317 

Seattle, Sky Needle

Jonathan "Ironhand" McCallister did not let emotion disrupt his cold, metallic logic. Sitting across from Nadja Davier in the dimly lit room atop the iconic Sky Needle, he maintained a thinly veiled smile, his eyes glinting with the reflective sheen of refined steel. Ares Optics looked at the elf while his brain, enhanced with the latest cybernetic interfaces, processed information at speeds that mocked the sluggish pace of natural human thought. To turn himself into the Scion of an Elemental of Metal was his grand project, a testament to the power and resources of Ares Macrotechnology. Yet even now, the transformation continued as his nanobots worked relentlessly, and the current magi-steel body he inhabited was a workshop of ongoing mechanization. Calculations ran through his mind, mimicking the lighting speed bound to circuited soul wheels.

Even as the elf demanded most of his attention, he still noticed hidden runes written into the surroundings. Someone was attempting to add spice to his party. It took less than a fraction of a second to calculate that allowing the interloper's freedom would benefit his own goals.

According to satellite data, the night outside was alive with the roar of a storm, the sky a canvas of churning clouds and flickering lightning. It was not just any storm but one orchestrated by mana from the depths of arcane knowledge, a storm controlled by elemental forces at the behest of those who had mastered the forbidden arts. The link between runes and storms was easier to cipher than a dragon’s elemental speech.

“Interesting weather,” Jonathan opened the conversation. It was a trite icebreaker, the best kind, in his opinion. Suddenly, the magic-infused air inside the room shimmered, the dimensional seal at the pinnacle of the Sky Needle shattering under the intense pressure of the storm. Runes flared, and the overhead dome cracked open like a smashed egg. A gateway between worlds grew with fanfare, revealing the legion of storm-aligned elementals invading the breach.

"Deal with it," Nadja muttered, seemingly to the empty air beside her. Moments later, reality itself shuddered, warping in response to her command. A figure clad in a red and black dress rippled into existence from the empty air’s void, materializing with the grace and suddenness of a crimson nightshade bloom in the storm’s fury.

Jonathan’s emotions flared before being muted by his suppression systems. Fear was a distant monster tamed and caged, but curiosity remained free.

Power. Raw, palpable power suffused the air, a torrent of blood-scented mana that dwarfed even the storm raging overhead. Jonathan's advanced sensors rocketed into overdrive, analyzing the newcomer. She had no eyes for anyone at the gathering, her gaze fixed solely on the chaos above. With a grace that belied the power she commanded, she floated upward, rising above the awestruck crowd. Her stance was of readiness, which Jonathan's database instantly recognized—*Iaido*, the art of the instant sword draw.

But with a crimson crystal-steel longsword? It was unconventional and unexpected. It was terrifying on so many levels, but it was also quite informative. The elf was still a player to be wary of. That much was clear.

He let one eye look up, noting that the female figure's movements were a blur, flickering with a speed that defied his enhanced visual capabilities. She seemed to exist simultaneously in multiple instances at a single point, a phenomenon reminiscent of a vibrating blade—too fast for even his cameras to capture. It was an astounding display of speed.

Was she executing more than a thousand movements per second? Ten thousand? A hundred thousand? Jonathan could only speculate, his processors lagging as they attempted to catch up. The result, however, was undeniable.

Each storm elemental above was systematically shredded, their mana siphoned off as effortlessly as water spiraling down a drain, collected by some unseen force and deposited between royal red lips. The woman, her task completed, licked the remnants of a legion and uttered a single word with a savoring sigh, "Divine."

Jonathan’s sensors recorded several of the guests flush at her words. The charismatic woman’s enchanting figure was just as lethal as her blade’s bite.

As if the universe was envious of her presence, the space around her folded once more. Jonathan recognized the distortion now as it was enacted—a Cloak, a technique used to bend and conceal reality. He might have suspected her to be Ghostwalker, the dragon known for such feats if she hadn't been female. But no, this was someone—or something—else.

Turning his attention back to Nadja, who sat unperturbed by the display of supernatural might, Jonathan's voice was even, his words deliberate. "So, that’s why you are so fearless. Replacing a dragon with a goddess. Congratulations." The metallic undertones of his voice were well-masked but not his disdain. He was so tantalizingly close to harnessing the powers and secrets left behind by Dunkelzahn, the late dragon president whose death had shaken the foundations of their world. This party was his penultimate bid for the elf’s hidden secrets.

But Jonathan was not made from the rash fabric of those who sought power at the expense of foresight. Greed, yes, he could indulge in greed—but not stupidity. Faced with a being of such formidable power, he recognized the folly in hasty actions. There was a balance to be maintained, and risks needed to be calculated before one could reap the ultimate rewards. He knew that should he push the matter now, this body would be nothing but atomic dust.

While his soul would be safe within the Ares Server, he couldn’t afford to replace the current shell—not when it was so close to finalization. From Nadja's relaxed expression, he knew she was aware to some degree of his reticence.

Patience was the virtue he cloaked himself in, as much armor as any cybernetic enhancement. Immortality was within easy grasp, a jewel that promised dominion over more than just the corporate warrens of Seattle. With time, all things would come to those who waited, to those who planned. To him.

No, antagonizing the elf would have to take a back seat now.

The Sky Needle—a symbol of Seattle’s reach towards the heavens, now punctured open by forces beyond comprehension—served as the backdrop to the unfolding drama. As Jonathan "Ironhand" McCallister finished assessing the situation, his cybernetically enhanced mind calculated every possible ramification. Tonight was more than a mere social gathering; it was a frying pan, and there were easier fish to fry.

The figure in red and black had left a charged silence in her wake. The guests, a mixture of the world's elite, were left in a clear state of shocked awe. Discussions buzzed in hushed, urgent whispers, trying to make sense of the spectacle they had just witnessed. But for Jonathan, this chaos was an opportunity—a chance to maneuver.

His sensors registered that "The Dragon" Saito of the Yakuza was now giving orders to find the gorgeous elemental slayer. Similarly, Don Vincenzo "The Shark" Romano of the Mafia pressured those who owed him favors. Even more disturbing, the always calm Chairman Li "The Jade Emperor" Wei of the Triads had already transmitted a bounty to the Mercenary Network in the Matrix.

Jonathan grinned as it was hacked and deleted within a moment. The elf’s ally had highly effective tech support. He wondered idly if they were amiable to being hired. Skill was valued in all dimensions of his world.

An instant message was dispatched to a secure Matrix address, and a data packet was delivered within moments. The packet had cost a hundred thousand Nuyen, but some information was priceless.

The hacker is a chicken. I swear on my mother's egg.

Ghostwalker is hunting for the Proto-Relic, probably to impress his pointy bedmate.

Crystal. Seriously, that's all I got on this one. I lost the bet for the last name. Don't be salty.

Jonathan contacted Mayor Emily "The Peacemaker" Nguyen, passing along some of his purchased information. His agreement with the mayor was a countering influence against Morgana "The Enchantress" Le Fey. While the sorceress represented the magical groups, the mayor held sway over the technical crowd. Jonathan sent a few more messages to ensure the balance was preserved before ending his secure Matrix connection.

He turned back to Nadja, noting the slight upturn of her lips—an almost imperceptible smile that suggested she knew more than she let on. "Nadja, while I commend your new ally, I must wonder about the price of such power. What does one offer a goddess to gain her favor?" His voice was calm and measured, but beneath it lay a keen edge of curiosity and a hint of challenge. He needed to understand her position fully, gauge her ambitions, and, without question, find a way to leverage this knowledge to his advantage.

Nadja's eyes met his, a spark of amusement flickering within. "Jonathan, we trade not just commodities but promises and secrets in our world. The currency of gods isn’t so different from that of men, merely... amplified." Her cryptic response only fueled Jonathan’s determination to peel back the mystery surrounding her new protector.

The conversation was interrupted by a subtle vibration at his wrist—an alert from his internal systems signaling another anomaly within the building. Excusing himself with a polite nod, Jonathan stepped away to investigate, his movements smooth and precise. As he navigated through the crowd, his sensors picked up traces of residual mana, stark against his systems' cold, electronic background. Logging the discrepancy, his steps grew swift.

Deep within the bowels of the Sky Needle, hidden from the eyes of the partygoers above, Jonathan entered a secure room. Screens lit up around him, displaying data streams and surveillance feeds. His eyes scanned the information, catching anomalies and patterns with superhuman acuity. In reality, one feed showed a projected distortion and a ripple, suggesting another cloaked visitor. "Ghostwalker, perhaps?" he mused to himself, aware of the dragon's reputation for meddling in human affairs. The technique on display was a pale shadow of Crystal’s own. It also matched the residual mana traces.

He tapped into the building's security matrix, rerouting power and adjusting sensors to compensate for the magical interference. If a dragon were indeed moving through his domain, it would need to learn a lesson. Blood runes painted in the security room started to glow with a menacing light as he triggered several fail safes.

Returning to the party, Jonathan’s demeanor remained unflappable as ever. His next move was to sound out his ally, the other corporate leader who might share his concerns or offer insights into the night's events. He approached Hiroshi "The Technocrat" Yamaguchi, finding him by a window overlooking the storm-tossed city.

"Hiroshi, unsettling times we find ourselves in," Jonathan started, watching the other man closely. Hiroshi, always cautious, adjusted his false glasses, allowing the light to reflect off them before responding. "Jonathan, we are playing in a league with new rules. My advice? Be wary. There are forces at play here that do not conform to our usual understanding of risk. If they interfere in my operations, I will act." His words were a veiled warning, which Jonathan appreciated for its honesty.

Glancing up at the sky, Jonathan allowed a ghost of a smile to cross his countenance. The sky was gradually calming, the wild dance of the storm subsiding into the dark tapestry of night pierced by the city’s neon lights. Jonathan’s mind, however, remained as tumultuous as ever. He nodded at Hiroshi, appreciating the man's candidness. “Your prudence is always valued, Hiroshi. Let us both keep our sensors sharpened and our arsenals ready.”

Leaving Hiroshi to contemplate, Jonathan made his way through the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the room like a radar, catching every slight movement, every subtle shift in the dynamic. His next target was Maria "Mystic" Esteban. The woman was a nexus of arcane power, her presence almost palpable as she conversed in hushed tones with a cluster of influencers.

"Maria," Jonathan greeted her, his voice caring enough warmth not to seem intrusive. "Your insights could prove invaluable tonight. What is your interpretation of the forces we’ve just witnessed?”

Maria turned to him, her eyes glittering with unspoken knowledge. “Jonathan, when the divine plays chess, the pieces move in ways we mortals might find bewildering. But make no mistake, each move is calculated.” She paused, her cyan gaze intense. “Stay vigilant, Ironhand. Not all power reveals its hand immediately.”

Wise words, Jonathan mused as he left Maria to her machinations. His circuit-laced brain continued to process every data point, every piece of dialogue for later analysis. These interactions were not mere conversations but a dance of diplomacy and power.

As the night wore on, Jonathan continued to weave through the crowd, speaking briefly with Akio "The Elder" Tanaka and Wei "The Sorcerer" Lung. Each conversation layered more complexity into his understanding of the situation. The Elder spoke of balance and patience, while The Sorcerer hinted at the possible upheaval the new forces might bring.

Finally, Jonathan stood alone momentarily, his thoughts circling back to Nadja and her mysterious ally. His contemplations were abruptly cut short by another alert on his wrist—an encrypted message from one of his spies embedded within another corporation. The message was cryptic but pointed towards a sudden movement of resources by one of his rivals, likely spurred by tonight’s revelations. Jonathan's eyes narrowed; this game escalated quickly, and he needed to stay one step ahead. Smoothing his three-piece suit with a flicker of static, he gave a silent command to his hidden bodyguards.

He returned to the security room, his mind set on reviewing the surveillance data again. The blood runes had done their work, containing any mystical intrusions for now, but Jonathan knew this was only a temporary measure. He needed a more robust plan to harness the energies unleashed tonight for his own ends.

Once inside the secure room, his gaze fell on multiple screens, each displaying different angles of the party above. His focus sharpened as he replayed the footage of the mysterious woman in red and black. Her power was unlike anything he had documented before. Slowly, Jonathan began to piece together a strategy, considering alliances with those who could match or counteract this new player’s demonstrated abilities. A disturbing set of data arose when he carefully measured.

The woman had all the earmarks of an elemental. That is precisely what he aimed to become. Only her element wasn't metal. It was something darker. Older. Bloodier.

With the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon, Jonathan decided it was time to regroup and prepare for the inevitable board meeting. He sent secure messages to his closest advisors, arranging a meeting at the earliest convenience. The topic would be the night's events and their long-term implications for Ares Macrotechnology. The storm had passed, but its echoes would resonate in the corporate corridors of power for a long time. He was ready to navigate these turbulent waters. His resolve was forged in steel and ambition. Whatever challenges lay ahead, Jonathan "Ironhand" McCallister was prepared to face them with all the resources at his command.

Just like his ancestors had done for thousands of years.