Chapter 171

Legal Counsel and Illegal Plans

Alexander walked through Manhattan toward the lawyer’s office. At just after four in the afternoon, the sun cut between the buildings, lighting upon thinning crowds as the workday began to wind down.

Yesterday’s visit to NYPMEX had been educational if unproductive. The historical coin museum had genuinely interested him. Viking silver from ninth-century Scandinavian trade routes, Colonial currency, Roman denarii, and even a Byzantine Solidus. History preserved in metal. He’d spent longer there than planned, appreciating the craftsmanship of dead civilizations.

The auction hall had been impressive too. Rare coins moving for millions, the collectors bidding with casual gestures. The featured item was the last minted American dollar, dated 2047, never circulated. The previous owner had willed it back to NYPMEX so it could find its place with the right collector.

Alexander had thrown in an early bid around three million, more out of curiosity than serious intent. He’d never been to an auction before. The price had climbed fast, far higher than his curiosity could justify.

A Texan in a cowboy hat won it at thirty-four million. Alexander had briefly entertained the idea of borrowing the coin from the man, but decided against it.

Unfortunately, his real goal for visiting the NYPMEX Market, reconnaissance on the security vaults below, had been a complete failure. Dozens of meters of concrete separated the market floor from the storage levels, with no live network connections between them. His powers could reach through the average wall, such that spreading his senses across the city, through building after building, presented no challenge.

The vault being buried beneath concrete, thick bulkheads, and airgapped security systems meant he’d left with zero useful intelligence.

So he’d turned to Talia instead. Asked her to put together anything she could find about its layout and security systems. If the information existed, she’d find it. Or buy it.

The rest of the day had gone to layering more distractions across Manhattan. False signals, phantom alerts, electronic ghosts for AEGIS to chase. Then rest, finally. The timezone whiplash from jumping between space travel, Greece, and New York over the course of a few days was catching up with him.

Tonight he’d be heading back home after executing his plan. Today he had a lawyer to recruit.

Hopefully.

Alexander crossed the street and climbed the narrow stairwell, the Golden Dragon’s cooking smells tormented him for missing lunch. His senses swept the second floor ahead of him. Jasmine was alone in her office.

And the malware on her tablet had gone silent.

Good. At least the hacker had upheld her end of the deal.

Alexander knocked on the frosted glass door.

“Come in,” Jasmine called.

He entered. Hyperawareness caught the slight stiffening of her shoulders when she looked up and recognized him, but she controlled herself immediately and gestured toward the chair across from her desk.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Rooke. I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to return.”

Alexander crossed the small office and settled into the chair. “Should I take that to mean you were hoping I would?”

Jasmine turned in her chair and pulled open the filing cabinet behind her. She retrieved a folder and slid several pages across the desk toward him. “It means only what I said.”

Alexander took the papers, raising an eyebrow in question.

She leaned back and steepled her fingers, studying him. “I thought it over, and I am willing to work for you. For Grimnir, I mean. The terms are outlined in the employment contract and cover everything you offered and some additional requirements.”

Alexander settled deeper into his chair and began reading.

He knew next to nothing about contract law or legal language, which was precisely why he was here trying to recruit a lawyer in the first place. But this was just an employment contract, and it read easily enough that he suspected Jasmine had streamlined and simplified it for his benefit.

Still, he read every line carefully.

The first section outlined standard terms. Her compensation, time commitments and pro bono hours, conflict of interest protections, and a hierarchical structure detailing when existing cases would take priority versus when Grimnir’s needs would supersede them. All straightforward and reasonable.

The next section covered Grimnir’s obligations. Assumption of her existing debt in full. Salary requirements for a qualified legal assistant. Appropriate office space on Astra Omnia with all necessary amenities.

Then he came across a line about Grimnir assuming the rental costs for her current New York office.

Alexander’s eyebrow rose slightly. He glanced up at Jasmine, who met his gaze without reaction, then returned to reading without comment. It wasn’t really Grimnir’s responsibility, but he didn’t begrudge her play.

The contract specified unlimited portal access between New York and Astra Omnia for both professional and personal use, with all associated costs covered by Grimnir.

Reasonable expenses for obtaining and maintaining an expansive legal library, including comprehensive coverage of galactic law and precedents.

The next two clauses gave him pause. The first required that encrypted communications and operations equipment be provided and personally secured by the supervillain known as the Machine God. The specificity of the language was deliberate. She wanted his personal guarantee that her professional devices would remain protected.

The second guaranteed reasonable security measures when Grimnir’s business brought her into contact with dangerous parties, including other supervillain guilds or criminal organizations. Jasmine had listed AEGIS and the UEG in the same sentence, too.

Both were smart additions. Things he should have thought of himself.

Then came the legal support fund. An annual donation from Grimnir, allocated at Jasmine’s sole discretion to provide legal representation for those unable to afford it.

Alexander read the clause twice, then looked up at Jasmine.

She held his gaze, expression neutral but eyes sharp. Waiting to see his reaction.

He smiled slightly and returned to the contract without comment.

She wanted to see if the ‘understanding’ he’d offered at their last meeting would be backed by action. If Grimnir would actually support her continuing to help people, or if that had just been empty words meant to win her over.

Jasmine had left the amount open, rather than extracting a specific commitment, too.

Fair.

An NDA was referenced as attached. Alexander read through the standard confidentiality language, finding nothing out of place.

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Finally, the termination clause was mostly standard. Notice periods, obligations upon separation, transition procedures, severance.

But two provisions stood out.

Jasmine could terminate immediately without penalty if Grimnir attempted to involve her directly in criminal activities. Superhuman or otherwise.

And if she chose to terminate the agreement before five years had passed, she would be responsible for repaying the debts assumed by Grimnir, unless the termination was due to Grimnir’s breach of contract terms, including the supervillainry protection.

He finished reading and set the papers down on the desk between them.

Jasmine watched him, fingers still steepled. “Do you have any questions about the terms?”

“I’m looking forward to never again having to read something like this,” Alexander said with a smile. “But, yes, I have a few points to bring up.”

She nodded for him to continue.

“The security clauses are great additions, but they made me realize there was a small detail I failed to mention. You will be exposed to a lot of superhumans on Astra Omnia. Which means…”

“I may awaken powers of my own,” Jasmine finished thoughtfully. She shrugged. “I’ll deal with that challenge if and when it happens.”

Alexander nodded. “That’s fine. However, as someone that will be working under Grimnir’s… umbrella, let’s say, you will be required to undertake specialized training with us if you do. We won’t allow anyone with untrained and unreliable powers around our people or within our territory on Astra Omnia.”

Jasmine considered his words for a few moments. “Grimnir will teach me how to control my powers should I awaken them? And I assume you want that added to the contract?”

“Yes to both.”

“Very well.” She leaned forward and began tapping away at her tablet. “Next point?”

Alexander didn’t bother bringing up the fund. He wasn’t averse to Grimnir supporting good people who couldn’t afford the representation they deserved, within reason. He knew the others would get behind it, too. She’d left the amount open for a reason, either as a test or as a means to allow Grimnir to maintain flexibility over what they did provide.

“Five years?” He asked instead.

A look of uncertainty flashed across her face, though quickly smoothed out.

“I felt that was a fair term period in return for covering my debts,” Jasmine said slowly. “I’m not suggesting that I’ll discontinue the arrangement after five years, just that I should not have it hanging over my head after a reasonable number of years working for you.”

Alexander nodded. His original intention had been simply to see the malicious debt removed, so that she could focus on her work. And because she deserved it. But he could see the wisdom in using it as a guarantee for a period of time. Her concern at his question was likely at the possibility he would demand more years.

“My only other concern is the timeline for some of these clauses,” he said. “Ideally, I would have the contract signed and you delivered to Astra Omnia before I leave this office. My colleague will meet with you to discuss our immediate needs, which includes finalizing critical negotiations. She’ll be taking point, ensuring you’re up to speed and capable of handling the rest of what we have going on before leaving you to work with our recruiter and handle things independently.”

“By ‘colleague,’ I assume you mean Talia Kim?” Jasmine asked.

“Yes. She’ll get you set up with temporary accommodations and anything else you need in the short term, while we get the office and these other matters sorted.”

“I can depart immediately, as long as you’re facilitating. And that I can come and go as needed.” Jasmine continued tapping on the tablet. “I’ll add a subsection for delivery timelines. Anything else?”

“Do you have any immediate family or other important persons? We’re willing to relocate them to Astra Omnia as well, all expenses covered, as part of your security.”

Jasmine hesitated, glancing up from the tablet. “Are they in danger?”

It was Alexander’s turn to hesitate. He couldn’t be sure she’d take him at his word if he were to try and explain an upcoming doomsday event that he knew next to nothing about. But from the beginning he’d planned to be honest with the idea of building genuine rapport with the lawyer that would represent their interests for years to come.

Jasmine proved true to her name. She leaned back in her chair again, watching him intently.

“No,” Alexander said finally. “Not exactly. I took care of your hacker problem already.”

That elicited a look of surprise from the woman seated opposite him. It settled quickly, though. Which told him that her second tablet wasn’t just a paranoid countermeasure, but an intentional, pragmatic response to a threat she’d identified.

Alexander continued. “There are things I know with certainty. Things I cannot prove to you right now, and trying to convince you of them would waste both our time. They are known to AEGIS. To the UEG. To those in power. And they don’t immediately threaten your loved ones. Yet.”

Jasmine studied him for several heartbeats. “But were you in my shoes, you’d move them to Astra Omnia?”

“Yes,” Alexander answered simply.

She stared at him for a moment longer, then returned to the tablet. “They won’t go. My parents are stubborn. But I’m adding a clause that you will assist with relocation in the event that I ever convince them otherwise.”

Jasmine glanced up at him. “Is that acceptable?”

He nodded.

Alexander didn’t expect Jasmine would ever choose to join Grimnir as a member, and that was fine. But it wouldn’t change how far he and the others would go to protect anyone who was part of their team. She didn’t understand that yet, but it didn’t matter.

Grimnir took care of their own.

“I trust that you will tell me what I need to know before it becomes a problem,” Jasmine added.

He nodded. “You’ll hear about it soon.”

She glanced up at him from the tablet. “Anything else?”

Alexander shook his head. “I’m happy with it. After I’ve checked the amendments of course.”

Jasmine tapped away a few more times at the tablet. Then the printer in the corner of the room groaned to life, sounding very much like it had lived years past its own retirement.

“You really should get a lawyer to read it over,” she said with a straight face.

Alexander raised an eyebrow.

***

Alexander sprawled on the hotel room couch, regretting his dinner choices. The restaurant downstairs had excellent food. Combined with having skipped lunch, he’d ordered too much and eaten all of it. Now his body was staging a protest of its own, demanding he remain horizontal until his digestive system figured out what to do with three courses and dessert.

Alexander waved a hand and cycled through the major news networks first. Agricultural robotics demonstrations in Japan. New magnetic rail systems across India. Cheerful coverage of the latest Mars terraforming milestone, complete with interviews of engineers praising the breathable atmosphere projections. Corporate colony lottery broadcasts showing emotional families learning they’d won slots on transport ships.

They were all safe stories. And not the ones that mattered.

He kept swiping.

Three of the smaller independent stations were covering what the major networks carefully avoided.

Protests.

Footage showed crowds filling streets across the world. North America, Europe, Asia, South America, Africa. The signs varied by language and local context, but the core message remained consistent. Opposition to the militarization of law enforcement. Corporate overreach into civil affairs. The deployment of superhumans in suppressing civilian dissent.

And opposition to something else. Something the newsreaders couldn’t seem to agree on naming.

“Ascended augments—,” one anchor reported.

“—Ultra-class cybernetics involved in—,” another channel stated.

“Enhanced military personnel utilized in crowd dispersal operations,” read the official scrolling AEGIS press release.

People who’d achieved superhuman capability through extensive cybernetic modification rather than awakened powers. Alexander had yet to come across one of them, though he hadn’t forgotten they existed.

He wondered how their ‘super-cybernetics’ pathway would match up against his superpowers.

Small, vocal subcultures had decided they should be classified as Alphas, Omegas, Sigmas, and Ultras, which Alexander found both predictable and laughable.

The term that seemed to be gaining traction among the people as a whole was simpler.

Forged.

And with it came the inevitable derivatives. Forgeheroes working with AEGIS. Forgevillains operating criminal networks. The same categories humanity had created for powered individuals, just with a different origin story.

On one screen, heavily armored figures in advanced combat frames stood in formation while crowds scattered under the threat of weapons fire.

Little had changed in the last few months.

It made him feel a little indecisive about releasing the truth to the world. On the one hand, he firmly believed they had a right to know. That people needed as much warning as they could get, giving them time to prepare for what was to come. Even if nobody knew what it was.

But he wasn’t naive. He knew that the truth could shatter what remaining equilibrium there was. Turn protests into full-fledged panicked riots. Blood in the streets. Violence.

Death.

Alexander sighed.

A knock sounded at the door.

Alexander waved a hand. The door unlocked with a thought.

Augustus stepped inside and let out a low whistle, taking in the expensive suite. “Now this is what I call a war room.” He gestured at the space with a grin. “All you’re missing is a champagne fountain.”

Alexander chuckled.

Augustus closed the door behind him, and the grin faded. “I’ve got the intel from Talia.”

He crossed to the chair opposite the couch and dropped into it.

“So, tell me about this plan to rob the city blind.”

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