Chapter 100: Understandable Concern

Two men sat side by side on the chairs positioned before Director Grey’s desk, Edmund Thawne and Dorian Graves, while Kent stood at attention beside his superior. They had come per Grey’s mandatory request, as he wanted to see the face behind this proposed faction creation in Michigan.

“Mr. Thawne,” Grey said, rising and extending his hand in a firm handshake. “Thank you for coming in. I understand you’re interested in starting a faction here in Detroit.”

Edmund accepted the handshake, and said, “Yes, I believe Detroit could benefit from additional support.”

Grey gestured for them to retake their seats, and Edmund couldn’t help but notice how the director’s eyes briefly assessed Dorian before focusing entirely on him.

“Are you a Visor, Mr. Thawne? And if so, what tier?” Grey began with the questions immediately.

“No, I’m not,” Edmund replied evenly, though beneath his dark sunglasses, his face contorted into a scowl that showed his irritation at having to admit this perceived weakness.

“Hmm,” Grey muttered, clearly displeased with the idea of a non-Visor planning to run a faction. While it wasn’t entirely unheard of, especially for those with significant financial backing, it was far from ideal. He pressed forward regardless. “Then tell me about your experience with Visor operations, Mr. Thawne. What qualifies you to lead people into life-threatening situations?”

“I don’t have any direct field experience, Director Grey, and I won’t pretend otherwise,” Edmund said honesty. “But I’ve spent the last six months studying everything I could find about faction operations, threat assessment, and crisis management. I’ve consulted with members from different factions, spoken with faction presidents, and yes, with Dorian to understand what effective leadership looks like in high-stress situations.”

Grey nodded slowly, but his expression darkened at the mention of the former faction president. “With Dorian…” he repeated, the name leaving a bitter taste. “Can I ask how you two met?”

Dorian immediately interjected with a slight chuckle, “Oh, come on, Grey! We’re not a couple trying to get married here—the answer to that question obviously isn’t important to this discussion.”

Grey’s attention snapped to Dorian, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “Let the man speak, Dorian. I asked him, not you.”

Edmund however sided with his partner, “But he’s right, Director. How I came into contact with Dorian shouldn’t have any bearing on this evaluation, I think.”

Grey looked back at Edmund, sighed with visible frustration, then continued his line of questioning. “And why start a faction? Why not donate to existing organizations, support USOV directly, or invest in civilian safety infrastructure instead?”

“Because I want to be part of the solution, not just funding it from a comfortable distance,” Edmund replied. “I want to build something that can respond quickly to threats, support the community directly, and yes, prove that I’m capable of more than just writing checks.”

Grey’s attention shifted back to Dorian with undisguised suspicion. “And what exactly is your role in this organization, Dorian?”

“Like I told you yesterday, I’m only a faction member, nothing more,” Dorian replied with that familiar unsettling smile. “Edmund is the faction president and makes all operational decisions.”

“Given your history with Grinning Dead, you’ll understand why your presence as a member of this faction concerns me greatly,” Grey said, his voice carrying a dangerous edge that hadn’t been present when addressing Edmund. He also wanted to ensure that Edmund fully understood who he was truly dealing with.

Edmund felt compelled to defend his partner. “Director Grey, I understand there’s history between Dorian and Michigan, but I’ve worked with him for months now, and his advice has been invaluable. He’s been completely transparent about past mistakes and has shown genuine commitment to doing things differently this time.”

Kent shook his head as he listened, sighing quietly, it felt painfully obvious that this young man had no real sense of who he was actually dealing with.

Grey’s gaze moved between Edmund and Dorian, clearly weighing several factors in his mind. Then, he leaned back in his chair and said, “Mr. Thawne, thank you for coming. We’ll have to consider everything you’ve presented today and get back to you with our decision.”

“What?!” Dorian shot up from his chair, completely blindsided by the dismissal, then forced himself to sit back down and repeated more calmly, “What?”

Grey turned toward Dorian, “Yes, we will deliberate on this matter and inform Mr. Thawne of our decision in due time.”

Dorian shook his head in disbelief, scoffed audibly, then stood and stormed out of the office.

Edmund’s glance darted between the Director and Dorian’s retreating figure, clearly flustered. “Uhm, I’ll… I should…” he stammered, then quickly stood and hurried after Dorian, leaving Grey and Kent alone in the suddenly quiet office.

As soon as Dorian left the office and the main the building, Edmund hurried after him, calling out desperately, “Hey! Hey, Dorian!”

Edmund quickened his pace and managed to catch up just as Dorian yanked open the door to the SUV, clearly intent on leaving without another word.

Edmund placed a firm hand on Dorian’s shoulder, trying to anchor him in place. “What’s wrong with you? Why did you walk away like that?” Edmund’s voice carried a mixture of frustration and panic. “You’re blowing our chances here!”

Dorian turned around to face him, his eyes blazing with fury, and his face had twisted into a grim mask. “Get your hands off me, filth!” Dorian snarled, his voice carrying so much contempt.

Edmund jerked backward as if he’d been slapped, with fear flooding his system. He opened his mouth to respond but found himself taking another involuntary step back instead, words failing him entirely.

Then, without warning…

sfx: BOOM!

Two figures plummeted from the sky like meteors, crashing down directly in front of Dorian’s SUV with earth-shaking force.

The impact sent a massive shockwave rippling outward across the USOV premises, and Dorian instinctively threw his arms up to shield his face from the flying debris.

Edmund wasn’t so fortunate, the concussive blast caught him completely off guard and sent him tumbling backward like a piece of paper caught in a hurricane, his body skidding across the pavement as dust and chunks of concrete filled the air around them.

The ground beneath their feet cracked and spider-webbed outward from the point of impact, and car alarms began wailing throughout the parking area.

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