C Corp Protocol - Article 39: Never abandon your assigned Arbiter.
Life as one of the Claw was straightforward: track down those who broke the City's Taboos and eliminate them. Precision. Brutality. Obedience... It was routine.
Then you were promoted.
“Executioner.”
Her voice always seemed to cut through the noise of the City—calm, light and assertive. When she used that title, you knew she was in her ‘professional’ mode.
Zena, like every other Arbiter, was peculiar. Eccentric, mysterious, her words always cloaked in riddles and verbosity. She loved speaking in puzzles and florid language, forcing you to guess what she truly meant every time.
Arrogance radiated off her—an arrogance she had every right to bear. She could bend light into lethal bindings, rupture the air with shockwaves, teleport anywhere, and open anything—doors, locks, flesh, minds. Few dared challenge her, and fewer survived when they did.
The hum of servos whirred as you straightened up, hands folded behind your back. While Zena was formidable, you had your own augmentations—synthetic muscles, mechanized limbs, and hypodermic injectors primed with liquefied Singularities, ready to unleash their power at a moment’s notice. That’s why the Head had paired you. You were one of C Corp's finest assets, after all.
Her gaze shifted slightly, a smile gracing her lips. “We have earned ourselves a break, have we not?” The question was rhetorical. You knew what came next.
Moving closer, her fingertips grazed your metallic arm. The gesture was fleeting, but deliberate—unmistakably hers.
She didn’t need to say it. You were the only one permitted to stand this close. The only one she trusted with such intimacy.
There were moments—rare as they were—when her arrogance would falter. She would let herself lean on you, though never admitting it. A glance in passing, a subtle touch. A claim of sorts.
Kzzzzk.
Without warning, you were engulfed in a shimmering golden light. Warp. One of Zena’s favored Singularities.