Chapter Text
"Babe, c'mon."
"Just one photo. Please." She pressed her hands together, fingers interlocking, and let her chin rest on top of them. "Please."
The blonde looked at that pout, meeting blue eyes, that were pleading for this small favor. "All right. Ok. But the movie's starting in a few minutes. I really don't wanna miss-"
"It'll only take a second!" She looked around, looking for someone to take their picture. "Hey, hey, miss! Is it ok if you take our photo for a second?"
The stranger smiled, eyes serene. "Certainly."
She took their photo, hands steady, head focused, and she ignored the flash of something on her periphery that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She smiled at them, gave back the girl's phone. "You should go inside. It's a good movie. You don't wanna miss anything."
The guy grinned, nodding. "That's what I've been telling her! C'mon, babe. We gotta go."
The stranger smiled at them as they waved their thanks, and she put her hands on the strap of her bag, light because it contained nothing but an empty bottle.
She entered the theater, eyes slightly unfocused as she tried to pay attention to everything around her. Her first mission had been a big one, and this small theater was a small fraction. But they've understandably targeted smaller groups, ever since the attack on the stadium. Security has been cranking up everywhere, and even the Spree had to adapt.
She exhaled slowly now as she sat on her designated seat, in one of the closest to the exit, and she slipped her hand inside her bag, hand going to the mouth of the seemingly empty bottle, still sealed.
She took a breath, then another, before blowing softly, producing a sound that could barely be heard by human ears. It made her already light colored eyes become even lighter. Her vision swam, narrowing down into a pinpoint, before it widened suddenly. She grit her teeth. This spell always made her a little dizzy, but it was unfortunately necessary for this mission.
Her vision zeroed in on random individuals. She ignored the loud opening scene of the movie, as her Sight stretched to accommodate the breadth of the spell. It was taking a lot out of her just to See. She blinked once--she saw a little girl laughing at her brother, pointing at something on the screen--twice--she saw an old man shifting in his seat, ready to fall asleep, as he probably only came to accompany his family--thrice--she saw the same couple she bumped into outside, hands clasped, the girl looking excitedly at her boyfriend whose eyes were glued to the screen.
The fourth time she finally saw her. She was calmly palming a glass bottle, eyes glued to the screen, but unseeing. Her mouth was moving, preparing the spell.
Scylla timed her opening the bottle to the loud noise of the bottle suddenly breaking from pressure instead of impact. Her eyes widened, however, the moment she heard the Seed.
Fuck. They prepared the wrong one.
She frantically murmured an adjustment to the counterspell she'd been given. But the chaos had already started to spread from the point of the exposure, the brunette whose eyes were suddenly searching for something in the crowd.
Because the Spree spell wasn't spreading as fast as it should have.
Scylla hoped Anacostia's Cloaking spell was stronger than this girl's Sight.
Scylla grit her teeth, finishing off the adjustment to the spell, ending in a gasp, the pull of the Protection spell draining her. But she watched the spread of the Spree spell completely stop, with the few people around her having gathered their wits about them, and starting to leave.
The rest of the theater was in chaos, destroying everything around them. Oddly enough, not really killing each other.
She had to leave, too, before the novitiate figures out it was her that thwarted that spell.
Scylla was gone before the Military arrived.
Scylla blocked out the screams when she arrived at the Spree safehouse, one she knew Anacostia didn’t know about. There had been an immediate recall of agents on the field after the failed attack, with instructions to lay low for a while. While the Army dealt with failures of cadets with a firm lecture, and a comforting hand on the shoulder, the Spree did things differently.
That girl would be a Mask by the end of the day.
"You need to make this look… good."
Scylla frowned, still confused at being let go by Anacostia, the very first person who suspected her of someone with ulterior motives.
"Hold on to the part of you that's good."
Scylla couldn't promise anything, but she still nodded. She looked down at the lighter in her hand, weight familiar, the one Anacostia had lifted from her when they took her during the chaos of the wedding. "You do know this is part of the Arts, right? Obtaining your face… It won't be painless."
Anacostia grit her teeth. "I know. I figured."
Scylla had to give it to her. Anacostia never made a sound while Scylla extracted her face. But she did pass out from the pain.
That was why it confused her when a Spree superior had turned up at her room with Raelle's face.
The failed Spree operative today was always going to be a casualty in this war, someone caught in the crossfire between the Army and Spree. It wasn't the first time that Scylla questioned the Spree as an entirety. But her thoughts were always clouded by how much more pain she'd had to go through because of the Army. At least the Spree gave her direction. And destroying the Army was a good enough reason for her to follow in their footsteps for now.
But she didn't want another reason to be tied down to an institution. Wasn't that just what she was avoiding with the Army?
Scylla slid into a room, and was immediately confronted by a senior member. She smiled, charming as always. "Alyssa."
"You weren't somehow involved in that recent blunder, were you?"
Scylla rolled her eyes. "I killed over a thousand people in one hit. Why would I cave?"
"You've gone soft ever since that-"
Scylla's face hardened. "Finish that sentence." Her eyes went flat, the beginnings of a spell already brewing at the back of her throat.
"Girls."
Scylla inhaled, stepping back from the older girl. "Andy," she greeted, the older woman, one of the members of Willa's inner circle.
Andy raised both eyebrows. "She wants to talk."
Without waiting for a reply, Andy turned, already knowing Scylla would follow.
Unlike the dark and bleak corridors of the Army, the Spree maintained brighter hallways. Underneath their most recent morbid leanings, the Spree had been introduced to Scylla as a rebellion against the oppression of the Military. It represented freedom from the mandates of conscription, and stability from the consequent reality of Dodgers.
Scylla had no one.
And the Spree reached out.
It was only coincidence that they happened to come upon someone as skilled as she was. Scylla was aware that there were definitely more powerful witches, and she'd stood among them while she bade her time in the Army. But she was smart, and she knew how to look after herself. And being a Dodger gave her the advantage of having laid out her roots in the forests, where their settlements usually were. Work has always been stronger in nature.
She followed Andy through a long corridor, before ending in what looked to be a study.
Willa Collar kept her head ducked towards her work while they entered, and Scylla was gestured towards one of the chairs in front of the desk. Scylla knew waiting was one of the things Willa made her subordinates do. It was a simple powerplay.
The wait wasn't long this time. "Scylla." Willa stood, smiling at her. She meticulously fixed her desk, before walking around her table towards a tea tray to the side. "How are you?"
Scylla crossed her legs, smiling. "Peachy."
"And you have updates?"
"Alder's at full strength again, but her attention has completely shifted towards the Camarilla now."
Willa shook her head, as if that were a minor inconvenience. "So late in the game. After the enemy has taken out so many of their people. And the sergeant?"
"As far as I know, she still believes me."
"They were happy with the few you saved?" Willa smiled almost affectionately at her, bringing the prepared tea set over so she could sit across from Scylla. "You tried entirely too hard there, Scylla. A third?"
"It wouldn't have been believable otherwise."
"Always a knack for counterspells. You are the perfect spy."
Scylla shrugged while she took the teacup that was being handed her. She blew on the top, the sound a little more than a whisper, but when she stopped, the steam was gone, and she took a sip.
"Make sure she indeed believes you, Scylla." Willa paused, eyeing the younger woman. "But what about you. Do you still believe in our cause?"
It was a regular checkup. The question was always laced with the most inconspicuous of seeds, to seek truth. But Scylla had no shortage of hate for the Military, that usually muddled truth spells enough for them not to work whenever this line of questioning was directed at her.
Scylla blinked slowly once, and in that split second saw all the memories she cherished with Raelle, ironically the daughter of the person she was talking to. "The Military took everything from me."
A non-answer. But to Willa Collar, it was enough. She'd seen the fire in Scylla's eyes the first day she found out about Raelle's death, which Willa knew had been false news, and she'd fostered that hate so she could keep Scylla just within her grasp.
A valuable asset.
Willa Collar will keep her for as long as she remained to be.