First of all, I apologize for, y'know, not updating this story for like a year. I was working on school and other stories, plus I kind of lost interest after awhile. Fortunately, I started playing dishonored again and got the Mass Effect trilogy complete edition, so I'm interested in writing more again. I'll probably add another chapter or two in the next couple of days (no promises, though).

Reviews : (I really hope you guys still care. Again, sorry for the wait.)

Inverness : In this playthrough, Shepard sacrificed the fifth fleet to save the Destiny Ascension and the Council. Currently, the Turians have the largest military presence around the Citadel, not the Alliance.

SoulVoid87: Not necessarily this chapter, or even next chapter. Morinth is pretty elusive, being a constantly-on-the-run serial killer and all, and Nos Astra is a big place. It'll take Corvo quite some time to track her down, especially seeing as how he's more or less technology-illiterate for anything more advanced than rapid-transit taxis.

Mastermind4892 : Indeed. Morinth is a very complex character, and it is interesting to explore how Corvo would interact with her. After all, her crimes really only extend as far as killing people, which is hardly something HighChaos!Corvo can get sanctimonious about like Shepard or Samara would.

Kaiya Smith: The Council is in a superior bargaining position, due to their control over most of the galactic economy and larger military. Additionally, The Alliance for either can't or won't deal with many of the Terminus powers. (The Batarians because of the whole slaving and Skyllian Blitz deals, Aria because she is a wanted criminal kingpin and would likely try to exploit them by gouging prices anyways, the Krogan because they barely have an economy to begin with, and the Terminus Systems in general because that's where Saren is supposedly hanging out.)

Writinginreverse: Not necessarily. Remember, this is the same man went on a rampage of destruction and murder throughout Dunwall during the whole Loyalist Conspiracy thing. All of Dishonored (except the prologue) takes place over the course of a week, during which time a high Chaos Corvo murders hundreds of people, like dwarfing Morinth's body count. It'd be a tad hypocritical of Corvo to kill Morinth just because she's a murderer. Also, the void explicitly exists outside of time and space, and thus wouldn't be any less accessible on Illium than in Dunwall. And yes, as evidenced by the fact that your mana meter recharges completely when you sleep or hop on one of Samuel's boat rides, Corvo's mana does replenish over time.

Peanuckle : As evidenced by many of Corvo's actions (such as writing his name down in the guestbook at Lady Boyle's party, which is a High Chaos action), he can be a pretty huge troll at times, or simply be a terrifying, mentally unhinged (Lost his long-time implied lover, got the blame for it, spent six-months in horrible prison conditions, was tortured, commits numerous murders etc.) killer, or sometimes both.

ClockworkInsomniac : I revised the bit with Udina and the Council. Thanks for pointing that out. Hopefully the revised version makes more sense.

CrowandCackle : Hmm. I'll admit that's an oversight on my part. I'll either revise it or make it work somehow (ie, make it an AU where humanity either didn't recieve a seat on the council or the candidacy wasn't limited to an executive decision of one person from a pool of two choices (that didn't make much sense anyways) in what must have been the greatest affront to the democratic process in the 23rd century)

Red Guardsman : That's certainly an interesting idea and I'll take it into consideration. After all, Corvo is the protagonist of this story, rather than Shepard, so much of the plot of Mass Effect 2 will be either rehashed or changed entirely to reflect the fact that Shepard is not the main character (and therefore does not benefit from plot-hax like escaping a somewhat cleverly laid out ambush she walked right into with seemingly little effort)

Ironclad: This is high chaos Corvo. While Cleanhands!Corvo is an interesting character as well, this story is already written around Corvo as a deadly, consummate, and somewhat unhinged agent of disorder.

Weretiger Marduk : Ah, uh...Yeah. You probably don't appreciate how ironic this review is in hindsight.

Bruto22: Corvo has yet to encounter anything that suggests the existence of outer space or other planets, or that he is no longer on his homeworld. To a pre-to-mid industrial man with little education aside from military-related topics and living under an extremely repressive religious regime, life on other planets or even the existence thereof is close to unfathomable. It'll come though, and it will be quite a shock.

Geast: Yes.

Pyro-Wolf16: Corvo's adaptation to this new universe will be a slow and arduous process, and in some ways he'll probably never fully integrate (Especially since he doesn't really want to - his first priority is to return home to Emily, anything else is incidental.) Corvo has no idea how the hell most of the stuff in the Mass Effect universe works. A lot of it will be completely beyond his comprehension. This is a man who has never encountered a computer, a flying machine of any kind, and barely understands electricity. Also, given the fact that he's been a professional bodyguard since age 12 and thus focused entirely on military matters since then, he is most likely uneducated.

The outsider didn't really do anything in the original game either, besides patronizingly psychoanalyze Corvo and his targets and give Corvo the original powers (which are almost all unnecessary to complete the game.)

And Shepard hasn't recruited Kasumi yet.

Guest: Yes, and this story assumes that is true, but Corvo hasn't ever angsted about it in game so it can be surmised that he has either come to terms with it or is in denial about it.

Kas44: I see Illium as being a sort of semi-autonomous sub-district within the Republics. It has to follow the major Citadel Conventions and such, but they can get away with loophole abuse and making some of their own laws to settle local matters, sort of like how State governments in the USA have their own laws but have to obey the big laws set up by the federal government. This theory is lent credence by the Asari history of City States, which retain a great deal of autonomy despite theoretically being part of a single unified government.

GameJunkie7: Yup. Wars are never won without sacrifice, and civil wars set to the backdrop of horrifyingly virulent plague tend to be exceptionally brutal. Given Corvo's military background and his duty as Royal Protector being set above all other responsibilities (And general corruption of the watch, especially the lower guards who are recruited directly from Prison), it makes little sense for Corvo to be averse to killing in order to win, especially given what he's been through by the time he breaks out of coldridge (Months of torture, shame over failure to protect empress, public damnation, imprisonment in horrible conditions, loss of loved ones, etc.)

While the technology of the Mass Effect world may seem like an outside context problem for Corvo, it balances out somewhat with his magic, which is an outside context problem for the Mass Effect world.

speaker of babbel: Yes, that's actually one of Corvo's priorities at this point. He realizes that his ignorance of his surroundings is impeding his progress back to Gristol, so he will take measures to learn what he can from the locals.

spartan 140: "The Outsider" was just the first name that popped into his head. Really, his own name would be fine since he doesn't exist in any databases and has never been photographed, but he still feels the need to hide his identity when he's out breaking the law.

Requiem Sage : This is, of course, assuming that Corvo has read those books. Corvo doesn't really strike me as a student of natural philosophy, given his very physical approach to his problems (particularly HighChaos!Corvo, who tends to slash/stab/shoot/sic-rats-on/throw-grenades-or-whale-oil-at/blow-into-wall first and ask questions later.) Also, Corvo only ever reads one of two pages from any book, as he never has time to read a full one (The whole game takes place over a week, meaning that he is living off of maybe 30 hours of sleep and spending the rest of his time assassinating people or preparing to assassinate people.)

Blinded in bolthole : This will actually be a large point of conflict between Corvo and the more traditional heroes (ie, Shepard and company), along with Corvo's ignorant racism against aliens, who Corvo perceives as monsters due to the very violent fauna typical to his homeworld promoting a culture of Xenophobia and survivalism.

Also, Dishonored NPCs in general have dealt with worse stuff on a daily basis than most Mass Effect Pirate. Local River Mollusks are fully capable of killing even elite soldiers like Corvo, and background material shows that the Imperium of Mankind would probably consider the dishonored world a Death World from all of the insanely hostile wildlife, including whales that apparently secrete liquid explodium.

"Conrad's" encounter with the slaver, eclipse, and Justicar will be interesting to explore the ramifications of, particularly when news reaches Commander Shepard of her number 1 fan's newfound badassery (and impersonation of a military official.)

To everyone else, no, this story has not been abandoned, It's just been on...hiatus. for a year. Again, sorry for the long wait. I hope people are still interested after so long, and I would appreciate any other constructive criticisms you have to offer.

Chapter 9 : Gun Deal

The Sandman proved himself to have been only marginally useful to Corvo. He had provided him with scant information, yes, but there was really no way for him to make good use of it without drawing attention to himself. He knew that the woman known as Morinth, whom the Heart had pointed out to him to be in a like situation to himself, had sought passage with the sandman, and offered a substantial amount of money for him to smuggle her discreetly away from Illium, which Corvo assumed to be the name of this nation. The Sandman had been disinclined to do so, due to the significant scrutiny Corvo had inadvertedly brought to Nos Astra due to his impersonation of a high ranking alliance officer by the name of Conrad Verner.

All of these leads were connected. But as interesting as they were, none of them were particularly useful to Corvo's agenda. He had acquired quite a slew of knowledge in his brief time here, and he found himself amazed by this country's advanced technology and the relative harmony that all of these …creatures seemed to share. There was little of the violence that had plagued Dunwall (Even in her better days…) here, and the city itself with its curving spires of steel and glass was beautiful to behold. In all honesty, Corvo should've liked to stay awhile, had he no responsibilities elsewhere.

But the fact of the matter was that he did have a duty to attend to. He was needed in Dunwall, in Gristol. His homeland and her Empress required protection, from enemies within and without. And here he was, gawking at crystal towers and flying ships in some faraway land peopled by strange monsters and bloody foreigners. He needed to get back home, and as enlightening as his conversation with the so-called 'Sandman' was, his slaying and interrogation of the villain had yielded no fruit in his goals towards booking passage back to Dunwall.

Corvo did not believe in the impossible. Dunwall had shown him that things other men thought of as 'impossible' were merely exceptionally unlikely, and not even that for men such as himself. He reveled in the impossible. But navigating his way all the around the Pandyssian continent was rather a more demanding task than killing all the guards and high elected officials in Dunwall. It would mean sailing for years on end, battling sea monsters and sirens and pirates and ghosts. Ghost Pirates, mayhaps. Was Corvo up to such a strenuous mission? Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes, if it meant that he could return home again.

Getting back, though, would require either great preparation or the same sort of Outsider-given witchcraft that had landed him here in the first place. He contemplated the burning-black brand on the back of his hand. It seemed to practically ooze power, with a glow of seeping darkness just below the surface of the mark. He grimaced in concentration as he willed himself to Dunwall. He wanted to be back in the tower, back in the throne room with his Empress.

After minutes of concentration and struggle passed, and he still found himself crouching on his perch upon the rooftop, looking down on the undercity, he growled in frustration and desisted in his efforts. It was obvious that for whatever reason the Outsider had seen fit to drop him in this foreign wonderland, he had left Corvo no recourse but to pursue that goal to its completion, at which point the Outsider would presumably reward him by means of providing a route back to Dunwall.

Corvo supposed that it would be foolish to try and book passage back to Gristol, even on one of these admittedly impressive skyships. The Outsider would, in all likelihood, simply spirit him right back away to this place until Corvo finally accomplished whatever task he wanted done.

So be it, then. If he had to be the Outsider's errand boy one more time in order to return to his Empress' side, he would do so. The first order of business, then, would be to determine just what, exactly, his ethereal employer expected him to accomplish in this city. So far, he had determined that there were plenty of clandestine goings-on, especially between Nos Astra's City Watch and the "Justicar" he subdued, as well as this "Morinth" character, to say nothing of his recent misadventures masquerading as an agent for some "Alliance". He knew these names, and that they were significant, but he knew little as to their definitions. Obviously, he needed more information.

With that in mind, he swooped down from his perch on the roof of a low building and onto the stack of metal boxes set against its side in an alley. He bounded from it in a single fluid motion, landing again on the hard, sleek metal pavement (Where, precisely, they managed to extract and refine such large quantities of steel that they could afford to make buildings and pave the roads with it he did not know, but he suspected that such abundance of the stuff spoke volumes of their industry and military power.) and took off dashing in some random direction.

Corvo did not have much experience scrounging about for information like some common footpad. Aside from taverns and libraries, he was unsure of where to find it. However, common sense seemed to dictate that this was a supernatural matter, so he should resolve for a supernatural solution. So he withdrew the Heart from his inner coat pocket, shaking it at things when he passed an object of interest.

He received a variety of responses from his macabre informant. Traffickers of all kinds seemed to infest the undercity, like so many cockroaches. Or rats, although perhaps less deadly. Street toughs and vagrants peppered the alleys and thoroughfares as if they owned the place. Purveyors of deadly narcotics accosted the passerby, peddling their poison to likely marks. The whole area distinctly reminded Corvo of the slums in Dunwall's seedier districts. It wasn't until hours into his search that The Heart turned up something interesting.

"He smuggles the tools of war from a faraway place, to arm the thieves and murderers that pay him so handsomely. He feels remorse, at times. But the alcohol makes him forget." The soft, ethereal echo that only Corvo could hear intoned, like a whisper in his ear. This lead sounded promising for a variety reasons, and he silently sent a prayer of thanks to the familiar voice cradled in his hand.

The man in question was no man, by Corvo's reckoning at least. Rather, it seemed as if some lizard had learned to walk upright like a man, and wore clothes that covered up a distinctive hump-like protrusion just beneath the back of the neck, and legs that bent the wrong way. Corvo could see him from the rooftop from whence he skulked, as the lizard-man was walking down the street below. He had seen it's like before, both above and below the crystalline metallic highways that seemed to mark the turning point from slums to heights within the city. Their name as of present escaped him, but he supposed that they were some sort of minority population in Illium, or at least in Nos Astra. Still, the asari and men seemed to mingle freely with the lizard people, which seemed odd for a race so divergent from the natural human form.

Still, it had piqued his interest. "Tools of War" sounded like weapons to Corvo's ear, and he hadn't found anything else of interest for the night. The Outsider, it seemed, had not yet seen fit to enlighten him as to the nature of whatever task he had in store for Corvo here. He had been waving The Heart around for hours, and most of the time he was met with only boredom or disgust. This lead, at least, might prepare him for the trials ahead. Better to equip himself with local arms and armor, once more, than to continue sneaking about in his current persona and risk being recognized by the authorities. If he could attain a suit of armor, that would be ideal. It would offer superior protection and disguise his appearance from view. If not…He could still use an addition or two to his repertoire of local weaponry. He still had the foreign pistol, blocky and weighty, strapped to the holster on his tool belt. Perhaps this weapons smuggler would have something mightier still, or at least possess a goodly amount of ammunition. Either way, the felon would at the very least be able to further enlighten Corvo as to the methods of use these strange weapons required, or some other bit of information he required.

His mind made up, Corvo made to follow the lizardman, stalking him silently through the dark streets and crevices of the ill-maintained undercity. He watched in silence as the man visited shops, chatted with some associates-human, Asari, some lizardmen, and even one of the six eyed monsters with the mangled face that he had slain in the alleyway upon his arrival in this strange land- and as he did so, he gestured with The Heart towards him, hoping to uncover more of the smuggler's secrets.

"He made his first kill when he was 16. The sergeant never saw him coming…" Informative, but also irrelevant and frankly unsurprising, given his current occupation. Still, he supposed it was useful to know that he had been in the military at some point in his youth.

"Tonight is a big night for him. The sisterhood of the black sun is preparing as if for war, and he lines his pockets with the sharpening of their fangs." Well. That was interesting. If there was a big transaction going on tonight, it would be the perfect opportunity to secure some more local weaponry. If he was interpreting the Hearts cryptic words correctly, then it would seem that the gang he encountered in the Heights while masquerading as Conrad Verner was not quite finished off just yet. It was most fortuitous to catch them now, when they were just rearming, than later when they might try to exact vengeance against him with whatever they were trying to purchase from this smuggler tonight.

Such luck must be a blessing of the Outsider, he mused, Or some other spirit, perhaps. He idly wondered whether Illium had its own spirits guarding its lands and people, as Gristol and Serkonos did. Almost assuredly so.

He followed the man for several miles, only stopping when he spotted him enter a large, fenced off complex. It looked to be some manner of manufactory, only missing its smokestacks and waterwheels. It was a large, but low metallic building walled off by a fence of what almost reminded him of oversized ring mail. A length of spiky, thorned black wire was coiled atop the fence, presumably to prevent burglars from scaling over it. A prudent measure, now that Corvo thought of it. It was useless against him, of course, although he supposed that most casual thieves did not quite have the sorcerous resources that he did.

There was light from within the factory, although that meant little. In what small time he had spent here in Nos Astra, it seemed as though every other building he passed was illuminated from within. It was as if these people left their lights on all the time, like they were afraid gremlins or nitemeres or spirits would slither out of their closets without a nightlight.

Corvo took a moment to examine the place's defenses from his perch, hidden behind some metal box atop a close by building. Guards patrolled the exterior of the structure in fairly predictable patterns, as he watched for a few minutes. Some of them remained stationary at their posts, whilst others would wander around the perimeter. From what Corvo could see, they weren't particularly coordinated, even by criminal standards. There was an entire three minute interval during which neither of the sides were watched, as the stationary guard posts were concentrated in the front and back of the place, and the patrols were marching behind and the front of the buildings at the same time. Sloppy work.

Needless to say, with such lax security measures, Corvo was able to infiltrate the building with ease. The tenebrous veil provided by the billowing shadows of the steel spires of the overcity Nos Astra provided equal cover to night itself. Sneaking in was easy, and he allowed the guards to live in order to keep an alarm from being raised. Smugglers were often an easily spooked lot, and the last the he wanted was for his man to bolt.

He found himself on another metal catwalk, hanging from the ceilings on cables along the walls of the facility. He saw that the interior confirmed his expectations, as it appeared to be some sort of derelict factory, with conveyor belts and complicated-looking machinery neatly bolted to the floors. Pulleys, gears, and fancy projections of light that were becoming a familiar sight seemed to be all over the place, and the factory was in an obvious state of disrepair.

Corvo found himself thinking back to Slackjaw, and his brewery on Bottle Street. This place seemed similar, but futuristic. It was like someone had taken a den of thieves and coated over it in silvery paint, scrubbing over the dirt and blood. Aside from the obvious differences in patronage (Scum as they were, Slackjaw's men at least looked more like humans than animals), this place appeared to serve more or less the same function as well.

Corvo sequestered himself in the shadows, lurking from platform to platform, suspended on the walls with guard-rails to keep some poor maintenance worker from falling to his doom. The Lizardman whose illicit dealings the heart had informed him of walked down the center aisle on the factory floor, between the industrial equipment that dominated the space. Said tools of production were built high, and cast numerous shadows all over the maze of industry. Corvo grinned beneath his mask as ideas raced in his mind from the numerous approaches he might take to neutralize the opposition. He could probably have cleared the entire room in under a minute if he had a couple of Piero's remedies on him.

The lizardman smuggler was flanked by two bodyguards. One of them was human, with light skin and dark hair. He was a burly sort, garbed in heavy onyx-colored armor and wielding a large, boxy weapon. Corvo had no idea what purpose it served, but it was longer than the pistol and the man held it like a musket, so it was probably a more powerful weapon. Corvo made a note to himself to see if he could catch it in action, to determine the secrets of its operation and performance. He was unable to distinguish any unique characteristics of the other Lizardman at this distance, save a burlier form granted by armor and the bulk of heavy backpack of sorts strapped above its hump.

Another party was waiting for the warmonger at the other end of the factory floor. These ones – he recognized them. They bore the same heraldry as the 'Sisterhood' organization he'd removed when he had been tasked to capture the justicar. He felt the sting of the folly of that adventure even now, as he was right back where he started with nothing to show for it. Looking back on it now, he had been lucky to avoid being made for as long as he had.

There were five of them, two of them women. He was uncertain as to whether their skin was blue beneath their armor, though, thanks to their concealing helms. From what he had seen, many of the asari possessed some kind of sorcery. He should deal with them first, if battle was to occur.

Corvo followed the lizardman smuggler and his retinue as he made his way to the five outlaws. As the lizardman drew nearer, Corvo followed along atop the scaffolding. Thus, he was able to pick up their conversation from his perch directly above the meeting area.

"You're late." Called out one of the yellow-with-blue-trim coated thugs. "And what's the big idea with all the security? You think we're scared of all the ward-trash you have out there?" He swept his fist to the side aggressively, although his pistol remained in its holster. The Lizardman performed an unpleasant curling of the mandibles in response, in what Corvo assumed to be a poor approximation of a grin.

"We had to keep you honest somehow…" He chuckled out with an unnaturally echoing voice. Corvo thought it had a…metallic ring to it. He was reminded a little of the propaganda Barrows was fond of broadcasting all over Dunwall, if it a lesser volume. "I heard about what happened to your friend Pitne. Heh. Damn near everyone in the whole city has." Even with his unfamiliarity with the man's reptilian accent, Corvo understood insinuation when he heard it. He was unaware as to whom the lizardman was referring, but it was obvious that the thug recognized the name. Corvo's practiced eye watched the man flinch through his telescopic eyepiece.

The dropping of this "Pitne's" name did not seem to calm the outlaw leader to any degree. Indeed, judging by the ensuing stream of obscenities, the case was quite the opposite.

"But I suppose if your credits are good, business is business. Of course, all of these…security arrangements are going to cut into our profits. Unfortunately, this means that your prices are gonna take a long hike up a steep hill, too." The lizardman condescended.

"That wasn't the deal, Caverus!" Exclaimed, the leader in outrage. His voice grew in volume and lowered in pitch, attesting to his anger even through his all-concealing greathelm. That'll make it difficult to kill him quickly Corvo thought to himself. The only real weakpoints in the armor were the joints, and of those only the neck would prove to be immediately lethal. All of his confederates wore similar armor, although the Lizardman wore no raiment save civilian fabric garb.

"Conditions have changed, Cranston. None of the volus want to work with you after what you did to those chumps who sold you all of that red sand. Pitne For may've been an annoying, backstabbing, barefaced prick, but he still had connections back on Irune. Now, I didn't know Pitne personally, and I don't buy into any of that syndicate nonsense. That's the only reason I'm even extending the courtesy of allowing you to peruse my fine wares." The lizardman's shrill, echoing voice made the patronizing tone all the more apparent, even to Corvo's unaccustomed ear.

"So I don't have a choice…is that what you're telling me?" Cranston asked shortly.

"That's exactly what I'm saying." The Smuggler, dubbed Caverus, replied with a flanging snort.

"Grr…" The man called Cranston seethed for a moment, balling his fists. His left hand drifted, perhaps unconsciously, towards his sidearm, but stopped just short. Corvo leaned in anticipation, every muscle in his body tensed and ready to spring to the rescue of his mark, should the lizardman require it. The symbol of the outsider almost seemed to glower in anticipation as Corvo prepared himself, ready to freeze time itself should Cranston decide to try his luck with his pistol. It wouldn't do for Corvo to have snuck in here and wasted his time for nothing, after all.

But it was not to be, as Cranston visibly relaxed his posture and regained what passed for composure amongst scofflaws like him.

"Fine." He spat. "Just get on with it and show us the goddamn guns already." He crossed his arms tersely, perhaps to keep them in place, lest they wander towards his armaments of their own accord.

"Of course. That's why we're here." Caverus answered smoothly, making an odd jerking gesture with his head towards the bodyguard carrying the burdensome-looking box upon his back, who nodded as he undid the strap and placed it before the group.

At first glance it didn't seem large enough to contain a goodly enough amount of firepower to justify a deal as dramatic as this one, but appearances could be deceiving. It was about the size of a small trunk, like those used by the conspirators when they were forced to relocate to the Hound Pits Pub and brought several of the things. And like those trunks, this boxy contraption unfolded to reveal hidden compartments. However, this trunk-like case was obviously much more sophisticated.

Corvo watched with interest as both of the thing's sides seemed to push out, like spice-rack cabinet drawers. The top and front let out a pneumatic hiss, depressurizing as panels lifted up and withdrew on their own, lifted by some strange lever system within the device.

The two side-drawers contained more of the musket-looking guns, similar to Caverus' human bodyguard wielded. They were different in make, though, with swooping curves and what looked to be an additional barrel on the underside of the bore. Strangely enough, it had a pistol grip and it was plated in a dull grey chasis that gave it the look of an armored gun, which made little sense.

"Elanus Risk Control Services, generation III Banshees, all in mint condition and upgraded with lightweight polymer stocks. Tungsten ammo blocks and one thermal clip are included and pre-loaded." Caverus explained in a precise, suddenly business-like sales pitch. Unfortunately, Corvo's ignorance of the finer points of the weapon's design meant that the meaning of the lizardman's spiel eluded him. The guns were called "Banshees" apparently, presumably after the mythical wailing ghosts of Morley. The northeastern isle was famous for allowing women onto their ships, and legend had it that the Sea Devils sunk their ships with greater regularity during the recent uprising in order to claim them. Personally, Corvo was more like to attribute it to the efficiency and precision of Gristolean cannon and shot rather than old whaler stories, but it was strange that these Nos Astrans had heard of it. Perhaps it was a coincidence. People from every island and even parts of Pandyssia have been known to share similar myths and legends, perhaps born from the same fears and misunderstandings. If so, the same explanation held true here and Corvo would trouble himself with the matter no further.

On the top and front compartments were what Corvo recognized as pistols, and were in fact of the same make and model as the one stashed within his overcoat. There were four in all, with two mounted in each space. He paid careful attention as Caverus went over the details of these, committing the description to memory. Any information at all would be useful, at least to avoid shooting himself in the foot.

"Now these are a real treat. Six M-5 Phalanxes, Systems Alliance military surplus. At six rounds to a clip, they may seem a bit, eh… inefficient, but these things pack a punch like a fisstech-tripping Krogan. You don't wanna know what I had to do to get my hands on these, and that was a one-time deal anyways, so get 'em while they last." Corvo took careful note of everything the arms dealer said, and was pleased that he was able to puzzle out a little about the hand cannon resting in his interior pocket. Six rounds per magazine was quite extraordinary by Corvo's reckoning, being half-again what his own pistol was capable of even with Piero's modifications. He had no idea what "fisstech" or "Krogan" meant, but the tone with which he enunciated the idiosyncrasy gave him the impression that the pistol was very powerful. Good to know.

"Sweet." Cranston apparently shared Corvo's enthusiasm for additional firepower. He had approached the box, and caressed one of the guns with an almost reverent touch. Caverus allowed him to pick one up to test the weight and feel, and the outlaw aimed the gun up and to the side, holding it at eye level and looking down the sights.

"How much?" He asked simply, still checking out the weapon with the enthusiasm of a child with his first crossbow.

Caverus paused for a moment, and then made another of those horrid approximations of a predatory human grin. It was disconcerting to see such a familiar expression twisted by such a monstrous visage. It was the familiarity itself that made Corvo uncomfortable. Looking at that the face of that abominable amalgamation of lizard and man reminded Corvo far too much of looking into the beady eyes of a merchant, a tax collector, an extortionist, or a crooked barrister. It was disheartening that the expression seemed less at home on the face of a monster than on the face of a man.

"Well, you see there Cranston…" He began in that playful, arrogant tone of his. The dull, barely audible screech in the background of his voice made it all the more irritating to hear. "Like I said, you're gonna have to fork over a little extra to pay for all of the fine gentlemen providing security outside. Call it a…risk mitigation fee." Cranston looked as if he was about to protest, turning sharply to the lizardman. But Caverus wasn't done. "And y'know… These are top of the line firearms. A two bit thug like you and doesn't get a chance like this very often. I'm thinking that'll raise the going price by at least, oh…A factor of two. No? Make it three. Call it an…exclusivity payment. All told, that brings you to nearly 300,000 credits." The lizardman finished with a smirk, standing haughtily over his wares.

There was a tension in the air, though, and Corvo once again readied himself to defend the smug gun smuggler should the need arise. Cranston was completely silent, although his gun was gripped tightly at his side, and Corvo could detect a slight tremble in his stance; the man was infuriated.

"Son of a bitch!" He shouted suddenly, breaking the pallor of vague unease that had settled over the room. The shift in the atmosphere was instantaneous.

Cranston jerked his hand up, aiming the "Phalanx" pistol straight into Caverus' face. He was immediately followed by his four cohorts, who had until then kept their peace while their spokesman dealt with the lizardman. With a cool efficiency and economy of movement Corvo hadn't expected to see outside of the military, they drew their arms and took aim at the arms dealer and his men. For their part, the two bodyguards readied their weapons as well, although it was obvious that they were both outnumbered and outmatched as they shifted their aim between targets and their eyes darted this way and that. The aim of the five yellow-armored mercenaries never wavered from their marks.

"You think you can fuck me, Caverus? Huh? You think you can fuck over Eclipse and get away with it?!" Cranston shouted, shedding the already thin veneer of civilization completely in favor of his true, brutish nature.

"N-now, wai-wait a moment, eheh…" Caverus began, raising his taloned hands placatingly. Apparently it had not occurred to him just how badly his protectors were outclassed by these heavily armed and armored thugs until just then. "I'm sure we can…uh…C-come to an understanding…" Corvo was a little surprised, having expected a creature with such a monstrous mien to be a lot fiercer. Still, it did stand to reason that he was a coward at heart, like all criminals. He had seemed so confident and self-assured a moment ago, though. If it had all been an act, then the lizardman was in the wrong profession; He belonged in the theatre.

"Yeah, I think we can. See, now I'm gonna offer you a deal, shitbird. All this shit," He flippantly gestured with his gun to the case, before turning it back on Cavernus. "For a bargain price: One. Bullet." His voice grew cold, and he steadied his aim and stiffened his extended arm, aiming sideways and Cavernous with his pistol. Corvo would've scratched his head in confusion at the odd maneuver had he not been about to intercede in this farce.

Cranston's finger depressed the trigger. The gun recoiled from the force of the expelled projectile, which zipped through the air at an imperceptible velocity, on a collision course with Caverus' heart. Caverus cowered behind his arms like a sniveling wretch, his reflexes being not nearly enough to stop the bullet. The other criminals took aim at Cavernus' bodyguards and were clearly telegraphing their intent to open fire in the next moment or so. The guards put on a tough face, but they wouldn't be quick enough to save themselves, much less Caverus.

That was how Corvo saw the world now, tinged in grey and stuck in a violent tableu of Caverus' death scene, just before the climax. The back of his palm burned hot from the Outsider's mark, searing with the power that bent time itself to his will. All eight of the men, women, and monsters in the room were frozen still, unaware and helpless. It was time to conclude this little drama that had unfolded before his eyes.

Six shots. That's how many Caverus had said were in the magazine. Well then, Corvo thought, If this doesn't work, he has only himself to blame.

Corvo had always been a fine marksman. Even with the notoriously inaccurate trans-powered pistols that were standard throughout the Gristolean military, he could shoot the wings off of a seagull sitting on the railing of a crow's nest from bow of a cutter. Ever since he was a boy in Serkonos, his deadly shot had felled birds, bottles, rats, and men alike. It had been one of the reason's he had even been considered as a candidate for the office of Royal Protector. So it was with practiced care and a steady grip that he took the lightweight "Phalanx" pistol in hand and opened fire upon the armor-clad assailants.

Bang. One shot. The end of the muzzle flashed with a bluish hue, and he saw the tiny sliver of shot zoom from the pistol, as fast as a crossbow bolt even in this state of mired time. Bang. Two shots. Bang, Bang, Bang. Five shots in all. Each had been carefully aimed at the head of every Eclipse affiliated criminal in the room, and Corvo was confident that each would strike true.

There was another problem, though. The tiny, almost barely visible projectile had already left Cranston's gun. Corvo's own bullet would at the very least knock the man off his balance, even with his greathelm, and Corvo would ensure that there would be no second shot, but the bullet had already left the gun. He felt a gentle tugging on his entire body, as if a strong wind were blowing atop a high mast, and knew that he was about to slip back into mundane temporality once more. There was no time left for Caverus, and few options left for Corvo. Taking a leap of faith, the Royal Protector acted on instinct. Bang. He fired the sixth and final shot, his arm extended straight out as far as it would go and his telescopic eyepiece focused on the bright little point of death shooting out from Cranston's gun. Corvo fired just a little bit further towards Caverus, to account for the brief (for a bullet) transit time between the catwalk where he was shot from to the factory floor below. Right before time returned to its normal pace, Corvo vaulted over the guard rails and onto the nearest fabrication machine, at which point he jumped further down onto the factory floor, right behind the arms smugglers.

Color faded back into the world, and the deafening silence melted back into sound…the sickening sound of death whizzing through the air, and of bloody gore exploding out of shattering armor.

Corvo looked up, surprised. He just had time to see five corpses fall limp to the ground in simultaneous motion. What was truly surprising though was the total lack of a head for any of them, as well as the thick crimson stains that lined the walls, machines, and floors all around them. They hit the ground, and blood began to slowly ooze from the gaping necks of all five corpses, quickly filling the air with the stench of iron and death.

"EEEEEEIIIIIEEAAAAAHHH!" A shrill, girlish, annoying, and metallic screech wailed throughout the abandoned factory. Caverus cowered down into the floor, having fallen upon all four of his limbs. The pathetic, wretched creature continued like that for several agonizing seconds, before looking around confusedly, doubtless having expected to have ceased its miserable existence by now.

"Shit! Shit!" Cried out the human bodyguard, dropping his firearm in shock at the sudden and grisly deaths of their assailants. Having been already wound up with tension from his impending death, he now fully released his shock and panic as he looked from left to right, searching desperately for the source of whatever had just happened. His lizardman compatriot had a much more reserved reaction. The lizardman bodyguard kept his cool and began pointing his gun in random directions, attempting to identify the threat.

Dead men tell no tales… Corvo thought to himself, almost casually, as he felt his marking heat up once more. He did not wish to leave any loose ends untied, particularly now that the authorities were most likely after both his masked and unmasked personas. In any case, these men were clearly just muscle- Caverus was the real target, and from the look of things, the lizardman would be cowed easily enough.

It was with no particular remorse that Corvo blinked out of existence, feeling the rush of air around him as he was propelled through the void and back into mortal world in the space of an instant, zipping between the fabrics of reality and the world of dreams in the time it took to blink one's eyes. He reappeared just behind the lizardman hired gun, and quickly flipped out his blade.

His boots and clothing had been modified to make no sound even during movements of great violence, so it came as some shock to the lizardman when a blade suddenly exploded from within his mouth, slicing through his brittle metallic skin and through his spine. The other bodyguard was just getting his gun from the floor, and looked up with a start as he heard his fellow begin to gurgle on his own blood. Caverus did the same from his place slowly rising from the floor, except that he just barely had time for a look of horror to dawn upon his reptilian face.

Corvo cradled the rapidly limping lizardman in his arms, intending to use him as both a human(oid) shield and as a means of eliminating the other one. He gripped the dying creature in his arms, and held up the arm that carried the boxy gun in a mocking approximation of a backwards waltz. He forced the still-just-barely-alive thing to depress the trigger, intending to fire a single killing shot into the chest of the panicked human.

Instead, much to Corvo's mixed surprise and delight, an entire hail of bullets seemed to flow freely from the upper muzzle, riddling the unfortunate man with a slew of devastating gunshots. He was probably dead before he hit the floor, as Corvo lost count of the swiftly expelling slivers of light. Simply amazing, he thought to himself. He considered again the "Banshees" within the case. If they were all as powerful as this weapon, he foresaw a far easier time than sifting through the undercity for signs of the Outsider's bidding than he had earlier anticipated.

With that thought in mind, he got himself back on track. He shoved Caverus' lizardman bodyguard down and withdrew his blade from the back of its neck with a sickening sluuurrch, and ripped the gun from its grip as he approached terrified weapons dealer. Without saying a word, Corvo brought down the stock of the gun down on Caverus' fringed head with significant force, knocking him out cold. Taking the lizardman's unconscious body over one shoulder, Corvo stowed the larger yet still compact gun liberated from the lizardman into his belt. He closed up the box full of weapons using the same button the lizardman had pressed to open it, before slinging it over his other shoulder and calming sneaking out of the building.

It had been a productive day.

A/N : I'll probably start updating more frequently again, although I'm also going to continue working on my other stories and publishing new ones. I just played the Knifge of Dunwall and the Brigmore Witches, though, so I'll probably write some more of this fic since I'm in a dishonored-y mood.