Dragon's Progeny: Chapter 67

In one of two instances, Coil was plotting. He sat at his desk, hands laid carefully atop one another as he listened to the report being relayed to him by one of his top officers. And as had been the case all too often as of late, it wasn't news he wished to hear.

He listened with resignation as the officer spoke, telling him about their failed operation against the ABB and the losses they suffered. It was supposed to be nothing more than a probing strike, a way to gauge their defenses and see if there was some sort of opening that they could take advantage of, but the incompetence of his men had shone through yet again.

“And they captured a couple of my men as well.” The man continued to pile on the bad news, “I trust them to keep quiet for a while, but not forever. We'll have to get them back or cut them loose eventually.”

Yet another setback. Coil was beginning to wonder why he had a habit of employing people who failed him so often.

“It will be taken care of, Commander Baker.” Coil assured, “Take some time off to recover and gather your men. Your job isn't over yet.”

“It never is, boss.”

Coil clicked the button on the receiver, ending the call and plunging the room into silence once more. He stared at the far wall, thinking deeply.

After Leviathan's rampage, he had intended to use the chaos to gain a greater foothold in the city. With the PRT struggling to stay above water and the gangs all but destroyed thanks to the ABB, he should have been in the perfect position to slip in and take care of things as he saw fit. Should have, being the operative words.

He did not anticipate that the ABB would recover so quickly, though he supposed recovery wasn't quite the right word for it. Like him, they weren’t nearly as affected by the Endbringer’s attack as the rest of the city and were able to rally extremely quickly, returning to normal operational effectiveness in record time. It was endlessly grating, but he was nothing if not capable of overcoming setbacks.

Leaning back in his chair, the supervillain ruminated on the issues plaguing him, wondering what he could do to gain the advantage that he so desperately needed to come out of the situation on top. The ABB was growing too powerful and the PRT was far too weak to leverage his position and connections to fix that. He would need to look to alternate avenues if he still wanted to gain power over the city.

Reaching over, Coil pressed a single finger to his intercom, pausing for the buzz, “Mr. Pitter, please bring my pet to my office.”

“Yes sir.”

As always, the man’s arrival was prompt and commendable. It took him mere minutes to travel the length of the base and into Coil’s office with the precognitive in tow. Coil felt a thrum of satisfaction as he gazed upon his most sought after prize. His pet was in much better shape than when he last saw her, given the chance to recover from her power’s drawback that she once again had a healthy glow to her cheeks as she glanced around his office, fidgeting as she held tightly onto Pitter’s hand.

“Come close, pet. I have a few questions for you. Single decimals this time.”

The girl flinched at the sound of his voice but obeyed, slowly padding across the length of his office to come stand in front of his desk. She didn't look at him, staring down at her hands as they fiddled with a loose bit of string on her gown but that was more than fine. He didn’t need her eyes, just her ears.

“What are the chances that someone will seek to directly disrupt my operations within the next month?” He started with a simple question, one he had asked more and more often recently.

His pet’s mouth moved silently for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft and fragile, “Sixtty-two point two percent.”

Coil frowned. That was higher than last time but not by very much. That usually meant that the decision, whatever it may be, was set in stone and only outside factors would be able to manipulate the outcome. He leaned forward, pondering his next question, “Chances that the ones responsible will be the ABB?”

The girl shivered, eyes going unfocused for a moment, “Eighty-three point nine percent.”

A high number. And also highly alarming. He knew that Yosei had been at least distantly aware of his machinations for a while now, but this was the first time that the ABB had been such a tangible threat to his operations. What had changed? Why was she suddenly targeting him specifically?

Narrowing his eyes, Coil wracked his brain for a question that might lead him to the answer he desired, “Pet, what are the chances that the ABB has an inside informant?”

“N-ninety-two percent.”

All but guaranteed then. Coil rattled off three more questions in quick succession, seeking to narrow down the suspect, though a lurking suspicion floated in the back of his mind which only grew stronger as he received his answers.

Though they were certainly having an effect on his pet as well. She was shaking, eyes squinting as she fought off the powerful headache that her powers provided her with. Her lip quivered and her voice as pitiful as she asked, “Can I have candy now?”

Coil suppressed his annoyance at the question, raising a reassuring hand, “Just one more question, pet. Do you think you can handle one more?” 

She nodded, clutching her gown to prepare for the incoming pain. Coil thought about his question carefully, but truthfully, he didn't have to think that hard. All the signs pointed to one answer. He just needed to be sure.

“What are the chances that Tattletale has betrayed me to the ABB?”

His pet winced, flinching as a flash of pain passed through her skull, “N-ninety-nine point eight percent.”

Coil’s face was a grim mask as he watched his pet whine and hold her head. The girl's predictions were never one-hundred percent as it was impossible for any one future to be absolute, but this was the closest that she had come so far, so the point was practically moot. 

“Chances that the other Undersiders have joined her?” He demanded, ignoring her pleas and sounds of pain. His pet twitched, her power taking over and answering the question that her brain begged it not to.

“Nngh! T-thirty-two point-no, forty-three…” The girl shook her head, desperation filtering through the pain in her voice, “The numbers keep changing. My head hurts. Can I h-have my candy now? P-please?”

Changing numbers meant undefinable outcomes. It was likely that one or two of the Undersiders were aware of Tattletale’s duplicity but not all of them. Perhaps he could use that.

Though his mind burned to ask more questions, Coil knew that his pet was burnt out for the day. Asking any further inquiries might damage his most valuable tool and that was something he simply couldn't afford.

“Mr. Pitter, take her back to her room and give her one and a half dosage.” Coil commanded, earning a nod from he man, “You did a good job, pet. You'll get your candy soon.”

The girl nodded, grabbing onto Pitter’s hand and following him out of the room with slow steps. Coil watched her go and when the door shut behind her, he sank into his chair and thought about all he had learned.

Things were suddenly much worse than he had envisioned. It seemed that his time of skulking in the dark, laying plans and sewing plots, was almost at its end. If the ABB were truly preparing to seek him out, then he would need to be prepared.

Tattletale's betrayal was not a surprise, but neither was it welcomed. He knew all to well of the animosity the girl held for him. She was like a poorly trained dog, always nipping on the heels of her owner and going belly up at the slightest indication that she may be punished for it. Their occasional verbal spars were an idle amusement for him; he found it entertaining to allow her just enough leash to hang herself with and watch her balk when the rope pulled taut.

Only this time, it seemed that the rope had snapped and she was off her leash altogether. She must have been planning this for quite a while. There was no other explanation for how she managed to get into the good graces of the ABB and Yosei especially. That woman wasn't the type to easily let go of grudges, and it was well known – to the public at least – that the Undersiders were at least partially responsible for her father's capite and subsequent incarceration.

“What secrets have you spilled this time, my Tattletale?” Coil mused aloud, gazing at the far wall, “Maybe I should have kept you by my side as I originally planned. You've proven to be far more trouble than your worth.”

He’d send agents to scout the Undersiders’ lair for any sign of her. He doubted anything would come from it, but he was nothing if not thorough.

Closing his eyes, Coil leaned back in his seat and let go of his power. As that timeline and the reality within ceased to exist, another version of Coil tapped away on his computer in a heavy silence that was only broken by the fluorescent bulbs above. He split the timeline once more without a second thought, falling back on old habits and ensuring that he would never be without at least one other option at his disposal.

A final decisive click sounded throughout the room as he saved his work, before turning away from it and facing forward, “I apologize for my rudeness. I was working on something important just now that I needed to get finished before the day was over. Bookkeeping is a full time job, I’m afraid.”

His genial words fell flat as a board as the woman sitting across from him gave him a severe frown. She was around his age, if a little older and much more world-weary. Though she had clearly taken good care of herself, employing a routine that only the richest could afford, no amount of skin-care or beauty creams would hide the wrinkles and crows’ feet that he could see even from across the desk. Her blonde hair was just a touch too bright – dyed, his mind told him – and lips were painted bright red to give the illusion of youthful beauty.

“You should be grateful that I haven’t already left. I assumed a man like you would know that my time is very valuable.” She said, and Coil held back a sneer at her attitude. It was clear to him that she was the one used to holding the cards and she didn’t feel the slightest bit in danger despite being deep in the bowels of his lair. How he longed to strip that confidence from her face.

He plastered a smile on his face, faking geniality despite knowing that she couldn’t actually see his features underneath his mask, “Of course. I know just how lucky I am that Agnes Herren of all people decided to grant me an audience. Still, I hope this will only be the start of a very fruitful relationship.”

Reaching into his desk, he retrieved a small manilla folder and opened it, sliding it across the desk to allow the woman to see the red-clad cape posted within, “After all, I do believe we share a common goal. Or at the very least, a common enemy.”