Rhapsody 1: The Unwilling Sacrifice

Part 1: Katabasis

The road to hell is not paved with good intentions.
It is paved with durasteel and blood.
Grooved with the passage of ten-thousand-ton haulers.

And it slopes ever downwards.

Minos watched the steady stream of rain streak the reinforced windshield of the Mephistopheles. He never held much faith in omens before his employment in Limbus Company, but the fact that it hadn't stopped raining since he stepped onto the bus filled his ticking heart with a sense of foreboding. He was seated in the front passenger seat, a position he had taken to ever since Mila had been brought aboard and unceremoniously installed as the bus’s new pilot. Minos' own brief, disastrous tenure as driver was a memory he preferred to keep buried. While at first he had blamed Hyde for drinking behind the wheel for his late arrival, it turned out the driver needed to be fucking wasted for the controls to make any sense.

<Why the hell was there a manual transmission in the glovebox... Wait, is it even a glovebox if its just a box sitting on the dashboard?>

Thankfully, the designer behind this Fischer-Price-ass vehicle was here to take the reigns. He wouldn't have to concern himself with the intricacies anymore. And while there were a few peculiarities, the group was careening through the back roads and highways at a blistering pace compared to what they were used to.

If only they knew where the hell they were supposed to be driving. Minos turned in the passenger seat, casting his gaze to the other Sinners.

The bus was fuller now. The quiet, simmering chaos of the original nine Sinners had been a... well, it was still a storm, but a manageable storm. He could hunker down in it, direct their attention where it needed to go. This new arrangement was more of a typhoon. The air, once merely thick with the scent of ozone from Damsel's augments and the expletives of one Sinner or another was now an almost indecipherable smog. It seemed like every Sinner was in conversation with another, each speaking over one another to be heard - or for some, purposefully yelling obscenities as loudly as they could. The cacophony was further soured by the antiseptic smell of Hyde's 'lab'. He had originally constructed it in the back of the bus, only a few hours after the arrival of the new Sinners, but after an intense argument that resulted in his death (twice), he had relented and moved his operation to his room. Apparently whatever spacial distortion allowed this small bus to have multiple stories didn't help with the odor, as the smell of chemicals and drugs still leaked enough to make the bus smell more like a hospital than any normal vehicle.

Mila sat at the wheel, her posture prim and proper. Her hands guided the colossal bus with an effortless precision that belied the vehicle’s esoteric design. The revelation of the 'Might Turns Right' crank nearly floored Minos, who had exclusively taken left turns during his tenure as driver. She grabbed a lever above her, pulling it down once before quickly raising it back to its upward position. As she did, a thin plastic sheet descended from the top of the windshield, wiping the rain like an eye might blink away dust. Why regular windshield wipers were fine for a less autistic mode of transport but not this bus was anyone's guess.

"Sir," she said, her voice a knife that cut through the low rumble of the engine and the Sinners behind them. "The journey is just as important as the destination. Without one, why bother with the other?"

Minos’s clockwork heart ticked a fraction faster when he deciphered her ramblings and realized she wanted to know their destination. He didn't answer, and thankfully, she didn't push him for one. It had been more than 'a few days' like he promised the Sinners, and Limbus Company HQ had yet to contact him about the group's first mission. They had spent the last week or so driving in circles, Minos' days filled with diffusing conflict as the Sinners grew more and more agitated with inactivity and one another. Morella in particular had been pestering him about their destination, wanting to focus her research and prepare for their first mission.

It was uncomfortable. Unfamiliar. Minos was used to calling the shots in his small slice of District 24. So long as he obeyed the rules of the Board, he was given free reign of his Polis. Here in Limbus, though, he was left waiting for orders, like some grunt.

A hand reached towards his cheek. Was it still a cheek? Or just cardiac tissue in the rough place where his cheek used to be? Whatever it was, thick gauze and antiseptic concealed the chunk torn out of it. Apparently, Minos couldn't turn the clock back on himself. Couldn't heal the bite that the driver had taken out of him the same way he healed severed heads and shattered bones.

An arm wrapped around his shoulder, and Minos nearly bristled at the familiar touch of Desdemona. She was the most... intimate of the Sinners. Always looking for an excuse to invade their personal space. The wound on Minos' cheek drew her like a moth to a flame, the woman cooing as she stood behind the manager.

"I'm terribly sorry for your injury, Minos... I am admittedly a novice of medicine and surgery, but applying ointments or stitching a wound should be simple enough to ma-"

A piercing voice cut her off, echoing from the back of the bus.

"Don't worry Manager, scars are badass! Should feel lucky, none of us can get them anymore!"

Desdemona's grip on Minos seemed to tighten as she bristled at Hyde's interjection from across the bus. For a moment, Minos feared the woman's nails might dig into his chest.

<I-I'm fine, Desdemona. Patched myself up well enough. Don't worry about it - go sit with Lance and Mory, they could probably use the company. If I need to redo some stitches, I'll ask you first, I promise.>

Her grip loosened at the order, and Minos glanced at her 'siblings'. While Desdemona and Lance got along well enough, Mory's arrival had introduced a tension that did not exist prior. As if a single misspoken word would reveal a weakness that another would pounce on. Thankfully, they managed to distract themselves well enough that they rarely bothered Minos with questions like 'where the hell is the bus going?'

"I-if you say so... I hope you feel better, Minos..."

Her eyes shot towards Mila, but whatever message she was trying to communicate (if any) escaped Minos. He simply leaned back in the passenger seat, eyes closed.

The bus trudged along for another dozen or so minutes, before the engine began to sputter and groan. Mila looked at her wrist (which did not have a watch), before pressing the left button and slowly bringing the bus to a stop on the side of the road.

"Sir, it's lunchtime. Mephistopheles needs food."

Lance was first to leave his seat, his reluctance to partake losing to the palpable tension of being around his siblings.

"I am loathe to continue such debauchery... Must we really resort to feeding this infernal bus the flesh of man...?"

Mila nodded, a solemn look across her face.

"Unfortunately, sir. Mephistopheles is in the union - always gets his lunch break. A man must bread for his daily work, after all."

Minos didn't think a union existed in the entirety of X-Corp, but apparently the bus in Limbus Company had earned quite a few more rights than the Sinners. One of them was a mandated lunch break - from 11:33 AM to 12:03 PM, the Mephistopheles refused to move. It was also the only time the bus could be refueled without causing 'indigestion'. Mila pulled a lever at her side, the bus doors opening with a hiss. The Sinners began filing out one after another, prepared to search the backstreets they found themselves in for Rats, Syndicate members, and any other assholes they happened to find. Apparently any human would do, but Watson, Morella, and Lance had thrown a fit and demanded that only 'villainous scoundrels' be used as fuel.

If the Sinners failed to find anyone, they'd be chucking Eddy in a few times to refuel. And while the freak might love that, Minos wanted to go as long as possible before he had to experience the sensation of the bus tearing his body apart for Enkephalin, or blood, or suffering, or whatever bullshit fuel source it ran on.

The door hissed shut on its own, the only occupants left aboard being Minos and Ringo. The latter was stretched out across one of the rear seats, hat over his face and seemingly asleep. It felt like his presence was one of the few things keeping the more violent Sinners from ripping Minos to shreds - and it helped that he was one of the more sane passengers on this bus from hell. Minos relaxed in his own seat, closing his eyes and enjoying the silence that seemed so rare now-

The silence lasted all of 45 seconds, before the radio began to pop and whistle, dials shifting on their own at random. Minos nearly jumped when they audibly clicked out of place, a soft telephone ring echoing from the stereo. He fumbled with the dials for a moment before they fell out of place, and the ringing stopped as soon as they disconnected. Minos grabbed for the dials, a small cord connecting them to the radio - and noticing the small holes dotting the inside of the dial, he held one to where his ears once were.

"-artment. I repeat, this is the Limbus Company Before Team, reporting to the Bus Department. We have secured the details for your first mission."

The voice on the other end of the 'phone' paused, clearly waiting for a response. Minos experimentally held the second dial to his voicebox.

<H-hello? Oh, um, this is Manager Minos of Limbus Company Bus Department. Can you hear me?>

Apparently the voice on the other end did hear him, because they continued. Minos felt a brief moment of excitement. Finally, he had some good news for the other Sinners. They wouldn't be driving around without a destination.

"Affirmative, your channels are coming in clear. The first Golden Bough has been identified. Recent hyperactivity of hostile entities in District 24's Labyrinth have been recorded alongside a heightened presence of The Light. We've made contact with X-Corp, and they have agreed to commission Lim-"

The unfamiliar voice continued with the details of their mission, but Minos couldn't concentrate on what they were saying. The dull, ever-present pounding of his head had returned in full force, almost making him double over.

No. No. Nope. This wasn't happening. The entire reason he joined Limbus Company was to escape that place. Escape the debts, escape the history.

And now they wanted him to go back down there? Go back into the underworld?

Minos sat limply in his seat, watching the rain pour onto the windshield. In the distance, he could see Demi dragging a limp body in the direction of the bus. Almost on its own, the hood popped open, Minos barely able to hear the sound of the turning gears over his own heartbeat.

<Heartbeat? Should be ticking...>

He moved a hand to his chest, feeling the familiar ticking just beneath the surface of his skin. So why could he hear the blood thunder in his ears- shit, where his ears used to be?

Minos leaned forward, face buried in his hands.

In the back of the bus, Ringo lit a cigarette. He took a drag before slowly sliding out of his seat and moving for the door.

Lunchtime was getting cut short, it seemed.

The journey to District 24 had been as uneventful as their week of wandering - but the Sinners seemed to be in higher spirits now that they had a destination. Carter seemed to cut back on her medication, Fenrir wasn't snapping at anyone that got in her way in the narrow bus aisle, and even Damsel seemed to be a bit less psychotic. The usual cacophony was replaced with a low congregation of muttering, the more knowledgeable of the Sinners sharing what they knew about their destination in hushed whispers. Even Mephistopheles itself seemed excited, gliding over potholes and cracks in the road with little complaint.

Minos, on the other hand, had grown far less animate over the last 48 hours. His thoughts were on other topics. The beast, his wife, the debt collectors that hounded him for years. So many painful memories in that hellhole, and the Company sends him there as his first mission? What, was he supposed to have an advantage because he used to be an Executive? Losing a title like that meant you had little weight in the Wing - though you kept all the hatred from those stuck in the Backstreets...

Did it really matter? It wasn't like anyone would recognize him. His identification implant was likely nonfunctional, his identification information scrubbed from X-Corp servers after he defaulted on his loans. He wouldn't meet any family while he was here, and he could count the number of 'friends' he had on a single hand. Hell, he didn't even have his old face.

Just a heart where his head used to be.

Mila spoke to him, eyes never leaving the road in front of her as she turned the useless steering wheel.

"ETA is 40 minutes, sir."

<What...? No, that can't be right. We're only a few miles away - at this pace, we'll get there in 5, maybe 10 at the most.>

"You're not accounting for border patrol, sir. That is what contributes most to our Estimated Time of Admission."

Minos shook his head, slowly rising to his feet and moving to address the bus. Unlike usual, getting their attention proved easy enough. A sharp electronic sound echoed as Minos 'cleared' his throat.

<Attention, everyone. We have a few minutes before we arrive. The Before Team said that the border guards should be expecting us, so we'll probably get through with little fuss. We'll meet with the researcher that commissioned us, he'll fill us in on the specifics we need from X-Corp, and then we'll head into the labyrinth to retrieve the Golden Bough. Remember - we're to avoid the target at all cost. Extract the Bough and nothing else.>

Demi raised his hand, but before he could be 'called on', Hyde called out.

"Yeah, uh... Y'mind going over the mission one more time Manager? Still kinda foggy on the details."

"Well for your information, I was high as a kite when you dropped the whole 'we finally have work' bomb! I wouldn't remember how your face got fucked up if it wasn't some shit straight from the Bistros of District 23, mate."

Minos sighed, shaking his head. He was about to respond, but Carter spoke before he could. She seemed to be the Sinner most affected by the news of their destination. Her usual gloomy expression was replaced with a look of anticipation, hands wringing themselves in her lap.

"We-well, it's pretty simple Hyde! All we have to do is go through the Labyrinth, evade the... nonhumans that reside there, until we locate the Golden Bough. We are to extract it and return to the bus immediately after - with its removal, the a-activity in the Labyrinth will likely fall back to their usual levels."

"And what the hell is the Labyrinth? I've been to Wing dungeons before, but they're usually pretty easy to navigate, y'ken?"

"I... Don't really know the specifics, but-" Carter was quickly cut off by Morella who stood up and opened one of the dozen or so books by her side and began to recite from it.

"The Labyrinth, once believed to be the Singularity of the new X-Corp, is a clandestine construct that resides underneath the City. Composed of complex automated robotics, it digs into the Outskirts below, extracting and forging the materials into X-Corp's signature alloys. These are then deposited within the Labyrinth for collection by X-Corp Excavators! The automated building processes shifts the Labyrinth to pursue newly discovered ore veins, which alongside spatial distortions to hinder exploitation by rival Wings whose territory the Labyrinth extends under, makes navigation for non-X-Corp personnel nearly impossible!"

Morella closed the book, a smug look on her face. Hyde, despite having his question answered succinctly, glared at her.

"This is relevant to my question." Demi said, lowering his hand after realizing the futility. "X-Corp is unaware of the Golden Bough, yes? Even if Limbus Company detected its presence, why would X-Corp hire us to take care of the problem? We're a no-name company with little backing, and are unlikely to navigate the Labyrinth successfully without their support."

Watson spoke up this time, his ever-present soft smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"Excellent question. If a Wing can rely on their own military unit, they will do so every time. Trusting a third party and having the workings of their Singularity possibly being discovered is a risk few would take without good reason. So either they are truly desperate..."

The man's cold, blue eyes rose from the handle of his umbrella, piercing as they stared a hole through Minos' chest. Watson's smile never faltered as he spoke.

"...Or they are familiar with someone that works for the company."

Minos would have grit his teeth if he still had any. Why the hell were the Sinners being so observant and constructive, now of all times!? He was happy to not have to explain the mission for the umpteenth time, but the looks the Sinner shot his way made him feel sick to his stomach.

<...Yes. That's a good theory, Watson. Before I was employed with Limbus Company, I was an executive within X-Corp. 2nd Archon of the Crete Polis, Hades Division.>

Morella and the more learned Sinners were shocked at this revelation, while the rest were seemingly lost on the importance of this fact. Before they could ask anymore questions, however, District 24 had thankfully come into view - snatching their attention with its grandeur.

The first thing you saw was the mountain. It eclipsed anything else around for miles, dwarfing the usual skyscrapers of the City and piercing the cloud line. It stretched as far as the eye could see, enough that one might confuse it for a mountain range rather than a single entity. The sides of the mountain were covered in thick, overlapping plates of metal, to the point where it was difficult to tell if the mountain was in any part natural, or if it was entirely artificial in construction. A massive wall surrounded the entirety of the district, easily the size of the smaller skyscrapers in the City. The border guards of X-Corp, the Peripoloi, patrolled atop the massive barriers, their drill-spears more visible at this distance than their armored forms.

"The hell?! That thing is huuuuuuge!! I don't even think I could fly that high..." Damsel clicked her massive augments together, eliciting a metallic clanging sound to emphasize her point.

Damsel and the other Sinners stared in wonder at Mount Olympus. It was, admittedly, a stark contrast to the gloom and decay of the City. It was, in essence, an art piece. A show to the other Wings, demonstrating the power and opulence of X-Corp. Basil had even gone as far as to take out a leather bound notebook, dutifully sketching the mountain and its beauty.

Minos turned and walked past the Sinners, seating himself next to Ringo. The guide seemed as uninterested in the mountain as he was in everything else. Minos pulled the carton of smokes from his pock-

No mouth. Of course. Can't forget that, no. Ringo chuckled next to him, earning a glare from the Manager. He wasn't bothered in the slightest as he spoke.

"Relax, Manager. Things might get hairy down there, but you have the ace shot of Zwei with ya. I'll keep your heart ticking."

He reached out and took a cigarette from Minos' carton, lighting it and replacing the mostly burnt one already in his mouth.

"'Your Shield'... That's the Zwei motto. Right, Manager?"

Minos crammed the carton back into his pocket and walked back to the passenger seat. Ringo might have been trying to ease his concerns, but this wasn't like the Sweepers. Minos wasn't afraid of getting killed in X-Corp. Not really.

The bus slowed, its massive brakes hissing and snapping like something was breaking under their weight. Despite the nervous glances shared amongst the other Sinners, Mila seemed unperturbed by the sounds of the bus. She'd probably say something like 'Of course the brakes break - that's what they're called'.

Minos looked up. The sky, or what passed for it, was gone. They were parked before a colossal set of blast doors set into the sheer metal of the walls, the barren and pockmarked highway of the City behind them a stark contrast to its clean and sterile design. A sign, written in the stark, angular font of his old life, hung above it:

DISTRICT 24 – X-CORP – HADES DIVISION ENTRANCE

Smaller doors to the side of the entrance hissed open, with guards in thick power armor stepping out and approaching the bus. Mila opened the door before they got too close, and Minos moved quick to meet them. Ringo was on his heels, before Minos even noticed he had gotten up to follow him.

The guard stopped when he saw Minos, the ferrule of the massive drill-spear in his hand digging into the pavement with ease as he planted it on the ground.

He raised his head, the helmet opening to reveal a sensor array shaped like a single metallic eye. It glowed with a pale blue light as it scanned the pair, the guard speaking as it worked.

"Present your identification and reason for entry into District 24."

Minos rifled through his pockets before removing a flattened metal square. It was roughly the size of his palm and cool to the touch, bearing the insignia of X-Corp. He held it out to the man, who took it held it to the sensor array in his head. The pale blue light radiating across the metal sphere of his face blinked twice, shifting to a red color, before the armor on his face plate retreated back into place. He returned the metal square, nodding once.

"You're expected. Enter and allow for the lift to take you down to sublevel 4. You'll be guided from there."

Minos nodded, relief flooding him as he turned away from the Peripoloi. Back when he worked for X-Corp, he had seen people being bisected by the armored giants for something as minor as a misprinted birthdate, or arriving an hour after their expected time. Thankfully, Limbus Company had been diligent in preparing their passports. Minos retreated to the bus, Ringo covering his rear. The Peripoloi clicked a button on the side of his helmet and motioned towards the gate, which slowly opened, revealing a cavernous elevator mechanism. Without being prompted, Mila kicked the bus into gear, the bus reluctantly drifting into the darkness. The gate closed behind them, the elevator lights flickering to life before the entire platform began to slowly descend into the depths. Mila gripped the steering wheel protectively, like how a child might hold a toy their parents said they would take away.

"Mmm... I don't like it, Sir. Neither does Mephistopheles. This platform isn't very kind. What goes up must always come down, but what goes down must not necessarily go up."

Hyde rolled his eyes, moving to the front of the bus to berate the girl. The movement felt much more threatening than usual in the darkness.

"Jesus lass, you need to be concerned over more serious shite. Focus on the Labyrinth, or the Bough, or those big ass armored guys! Your worries are shit like 'Sir, did you let Ms. Morella take the bus to the library? Why has it been red?'"

Hyde's already high-pitched voice rose an octave as he imitated Mila. A sharp exhale followed Hyde's mocking tone. The one who made the sound was none other than Ronin, who had been almost completely silent since she first entered the bus. If you were generous in your interpretation, one could even consider the sound a laugh.

"Oh? Ya like that, mute girl? I got a million, check this one- 'Sir, don't siphon Mephi's fuel! You haven't paid your union dues!' Like, sod off, right? Bus ain't gonna notice a bit skimmed off the top."

Two shorter breaths, and Ronin visibly shuddered. Even though there wasn't even a hint of a smile on the swordswoman's face, her body language almost seemed to feel like she was... laughing? No one else seemed to find Hyde's comments funny.

She did not seem like that kind of person to laugh at teasing. But then again, did Minos really know anything about the Sinners? He knew their names, had a rough idea of their personalities. But he knew nothing of their motivation to join Limbus Company, their life before signing the contract. Hell, for quite a few, he didn't even know their full name.

Considering he was going to be suffering their deaths from now on, it seemed... Impersonal? Disjointed? Minos didn't know the right word to describe what he felt. Executives didn't often need to talk about their feelings, after all.

<...Do you need to do your comedy routine right now?>

And just like that, silence dominated the bus. All that could be heard was the soft rumbling of the bus's engines, and the grinding of the lift's gears. The silence stretched for what felt like hours, but it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes before the lift eventually came to a stop.

"SUBLEVEL 4: RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT"

The announcers voice was loud and reverberating in the enclosed space of the lift. Directly ahead, the wall seemed to shift and raise, opening like a latch to reveal the parking zone beyond. Several dozen vehicles, mostly commercial cars or armored transport vans, were parked in their numbered spaces. The bus slowly pulled itself to the edge of the lot, sliding comfortably into a 'Visitor' space that was likely designed for a commercial bus twice the size of the Mephistopheles.

The Sinners began to flood out, Minos in the lead. The parking area was closer to a cavern than any lot the Sinners were used to, the ceiling high and glowing with UV bulbs that harshly aped proper sunlight. Minos began moving, already intimately familiar with the layout of Sublevel 4.

He knew who commissioned them now. And thankfully, he was one of the few people that Minos could tolerate in X-Corp. Not a friend, of course, but at least it wasn't someone in the Pantheon.

The Sinners made it a hundred or so paces before they reached one of the smaller, personal lifts. This would take them from the parking lot into one of the many, many research facilities that X-Corp dedicated to the material sciences. Minos pressed the call button, and within moments, the elevator opened to reveal a younger man - barely older than a teenager, really. He was dressed in a basic but well-tailored suit, an X-corp pin prominent on the lapel. He jumped as he was faced with the visitors to the wing, before quickly standing at attention and saluting them.

"Go-GOOD EVENING, LIMBUS COMPANY!! I AM ANEMOI ICARUS, AND I AM TO GUIDE YOU TO THE HEAD OF RESEARCH!!!"

"Try again." Mory shot a glare at the boy, who almost instantly deflated under the weight of her gaze. "This time, mind your volume. Understood?"

"Y-y-y-yes ma'am... I-I-I'm an Anemoi of X-Corp, and you c-can call me Icarus... I was told to bring you to my da- to the head of research..."

Minos was silent as he looked down at the boy. He looked so... old. The last time Minos had seen the kid, the boy's head had barely met his chest as he hugged and pleaded with him not to leave. Now, the kid's chin was at Minos' shoulders, only a few inches shorter than him. The boy glanced at him when he noticed the staring, but quickly averted his gaze to the ground once more. No recognition flickered across his face at Minos' return. Made sense - everything about him, from his face and voice to his organs, was artificial now.

A pained expression crossed Minos' eyes.

<Always had a confidence issue, that kid. Never learned to spread his wings and fly.>

He shook the thought from his mind. He abandoned this kid like everyone else in the Wing for a reason. Can't dwell on regrets now. Not when he had a job that needed to be done.

The boy quickly regained his fervor, saluting and pressing himself as far into the corner as possible to give the Sinners ample room in the lift. Even though it was designed for the movement of entire squads of Peripoloi and lesser soldiers, it was still a tight squeeze. Ringo did not follow, pausing outside the elevator door.

"I'll meet you at the entrance to the Labyrinth, Manager. Gonna get more acquainted with the folks around here... the hell kinda surveillance system is the 'Argus Panoptes'...?"

Without waiting for them, Ringo wandered off to one of the other lifts, muttering under his breath as he did. Maybe he didn't think Minos needed the protection in X-Corp - or thought that his presence would attract more attention than desired. Whatever the case, Minos lacked the patience and the experience to question his decision. He made a motion with his head, and Icarus pressed a series of buttons on the lift, which instantly sparked to life. The doors closed and it began its smooth ascent, the rapid acceleration barely felt by the occupants.

Within seconds, the lift had reached its destination, dinging once and opening to reveal a sprawling research facility. The room must have stretched for at least three or four hundred feet in any given direction, likely far longer if you accounted for the various doors and airlocks that littered the walls. Researchers in crisp lab coats bearing the stylized X-corp logo moved about like ants in a hive - one could tell how close each one was to a deadline by how quickly they ran and how many stacks of paper they carried in their arms.

"T-this way please, noble visitors!"

Icarus motioned for the Sinners to follow behind him, moving between the researchers with the agility and dexterity that came from years of practice. The Sinners, on the other hand, simply had to follow behind at a decent pace, the various scientists parting like a river before the dozen or so armed individuals. Carter and Morella were looking around like children in an ice cream parlor, the former feverishly writing in a journal while the latter was pointing ecstatically at various basic looking research instruments. After climbing a set of stairs, passing several layers of security and guards, and moving through a maze of doorways and confusing architecture, the group was met with the door to an office at the highest point in the sublevel. Icarus knocked at the door, and waited until the light above it shifted hue. He breathed a sigh of relief before pulling the door open, holding it for the Sinners to file in.

The office was spacious, modern. Almost sterile in construction. Closer to a hospital room than the executive suites that Minos was accustomed to. Soft incandescent bulbs covered the space in a warm light, illuminating the dark mahogany desk and plush leather office chair behind it. Several monitors hung from the ceiling and walls, each displaying charts, or blueprints - one in particular had pages of some text document flickering at an inhumanly fast pace, impossible for any normal person to be capable of reading. The wall directly opposite of the door was entirely composed of reinforced glass, giving a perfect view of X-Corp's Crete Polis.

The cavern was oppressively large, the 'sky' a ceiling of weeping, rust-streaked metal hundreds of feet in the air, from which hung colossal UV rigs that cast the miniature city in a perpetual sickly twilight. Just looking at it, the memory of ozone and the damp smell of moss hit Minos like a truck. It was nostalgic, in the worst way possible. The Polis was built downwards, a vertical metropolis carved into the rock, a cascade of neo-classical architecture rendered in concrete and steel. Marble-faced buildings with Doric columns clung to the cavern walls, their windows glowing with neon light. Great aqueducts carried streams of colored coolant from one sector to another. Here, like in all of X-Corp, height directly correlated with wealth - the backstreets were deeper, darker, unlit levels that spiraled down into the abyss, closer to the Labyrinth itself.

At one point in time, Minos was the Archon of this space. The King of this small slice of District 24. He gave commands that the entire populace moved to obey. Had a constant entourage of Labrys Guards at his beck and call. He mingled and dined with some of the richest and most powerful individuals in the Wing - and, by extension, the entire City.

And now he was the babysitter for a bus full of psychopaths and autists. Oh how the mighty have fallen.

The man behind the desk was old. Age lines and stress weathered his face like coarse stone, and his skin was yellow and paper-thin. The little hair on his body was stark white, wispy, and barely washed. Wires and data-cables snaked from the chair into ports in his arms and at the base of his skull, feeding him a constant stream of information from his creation. His lab coat was draped over his frail frame - it appeared to be a size or two larger than what would be fit for his frame.

Despite his fragility, Minos couldn't help but feel a sense of unease staring at the man. Even though he was one of the few people Minos respected in this District, he commanded presence despite his fragility. If he wanted to, one button press and a swarm of Tritons would burst in and rip the Sinners to shreds in seconds. He wasn't in the Pantheon, but he was the genius that made their business model possible. Despite his age and apparent poor health, he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

His tired eyes, magnified by thick lenses, flickered up as the group entered. They passed over the assembled Sinners with a practiced, dismissive glance before landing on Minos. There was no warmth in his gaze, only a deep, abiding weariness.

“Minos,” he rasped, his voice like grinding stone. “You’ve brought your dogs.”

<They’re employees, Daedalus.> Minos corrected.

“Call them what you will. They stink of the City’s rot.” Daedalus waved his hand dismissively, the motion labored under the weight of the cables attached to his arm. Morella looked in awe when she recognized the name, but most of the other Sinners appeared disgusted with the state the man was in.

"What happened to you? Did you sell your organs to pay back the Tritons? Had to resort to backstreet prosthetics?"

<Actually, these were an employment requirement at Limbus Company. They're not as bad as you would think - the ticking in my chest instead of a heartbeat actually helps me fall asleep, if you can believe it.>

"Pah! To be expected from some no-name company. If I had those frail things, I doubt I would live past 120..."

The older man chuckled, the disdainful look giving way to one of nostalgic reminiscence.

"Smiling Smokes aren't a 'shitty cigarette' you asshole... When your Syndicate's whole thing is smoke, you make high quality cigarettes, that's a damn fact. Trust me, I've tried many brands in my time, and none hold a candle to 'em!"

The man laughed, before shakily reaching into his coat pocket. He retrieved a familiar looking carton, lighting one of the cigarettes he praised before turning to the other Sinners.

"I appreciate you all for responding so quickly. Most Fixers take their time to before accepting a job, the ingrates... My name is Daedalus - Head of Research here at X-Corp. "

Morella looked like she was about to say something, but he flashed her a preemptive glare before she had the chance to interrupt him. She instantly shrunk back, before the smug ancient man continued.

"Recently, Subject Asterion has breached his contained territory under the Hades Division. Normally we could just corral him with a few backstreet brats like usual, but he seems to be exceptionally agitated this time. I fear using the tactics of the Cerberii or Tritons would render the subject... unviable. And while I'm not a sentimental man, its use in maintaining the Labyrinths ecosystem saves X-Corp over a billion Ahn annually, and I would loathe to have that reflected in my budget reports!"

The man clicked one of the many buttons on the arm of his chair. One of the screens in the room flickered, displaying grainy footage from a deep-sector camera. A team of excavators in X-Corp's trademark power armor could be seen, chewing through the walls of the Labyrinth with thick drill-spears and pickaxes the size of anchors. Then, a shadow blotted out the camera’s light. It moved with impossible speed, closing a distance of a hundred or two feet in an instant. One of the excavators was swatted aside like a toy, its hyper-alloy chassis crumpling with a shriek of tearing metal. The feed was filled with a horned silhouette before, the camera lens was blocked with viscera and the feed cut to static.

"Damn, that was badass!"

Daedalus narrowed his eyes at Hyde, but when the younger man remained oblivious to the hostility, he sighed and moved on.

"Limbus Company reached out and offered their services, claiming they knew what was causing the change in behavior. I would have paid them little mind when they offered to do the job for next-to-nothing, but when they mentioned your name I knew I just had to take them up on it. To think, you managed to skip out on your debts to the Tritons! And survived! HAHAH- *Cough* *Cough*"

The relic seized in a violent coughing fit, to the point he nearly fell out of his chair. Icarus rushed for a glass of water and rifled through the drawers for a pill bottle. Before he had a chance to hand them to his father, Daedalus snatched them from the boy, downing two pills and the water in a single gulp. Hyde reached a hand out, as if to grab for the pill bottle, but Lance held the red-haired man's free hand in a vice-like grip, pushing the thought out of mind.

Daedalus wiped the water from his mouth, wheezing from exertion as he looked up at the Sinners and Minos.

"You're... You're pathetic, Minos, you know that...? Y-You were in charge once. Held the entire Crete Polis in your iron grip! Ever since Rhadamanthus took over, the place has been such a bore. I can't remember the last riot..."

The old man shook his head.

"Bah... Enough with pleasantries. I don't have the time - quarterlies are due next week, and I wish to have positive numbers to report. I expect you to succeed Minos. You know its patterns. You know what it needs."

Minos nodded.

<Yeah... Sure. We'll retrieve what we need, and get out of your hair. Or what's left of it, at least.>

Minos turned, motioning for the Sinners to follow him. As he reached the doorway, Daedalus called out, his withered voice barely audible across the large office.

"You know what it eats! You were the one who kept it fed for a decade, Minos! Hahaha, HAHAHA- *Cough* *COUGH* "

The door slammed shut as soon as the last Sinner left the office. Minos pressed his back against the thick door, allowing the burning heat in his head to soak into the cool metal. His head was pounding like a drum, to the point he almost thought it would burst. Despite having stood still the entire meeting, he was exhausted. If it wasn't for his augmented lungs, he might have even collapsed.

"M-Minos? Are you okay? If you need to sit down, I'm sure the Labyrinth can wait for a few minutes..."

Minos pulled himself from the door, not bothering to respond. His head was throbbing so bad, he couldn't even tell which Sinner asked the question. Desdemona? She was the one most likely to give a shit.

"Manager. Do you mind telling us what the fossil back there meant by 'fed it for a decade?' I want to punch a hole through a big monster, not make some horned asshole a sandwich..."

Minos kept walking, eyes glued on his feet. He knew how to get to the Labyrinth from here. Didn't need Icarus or any other shithead employee to guide him. He had clearance from that old fucker, so he could just take his Sinners down there and get what they needed. Didn't have to talk to another fucking asshole in this entire Wing if they didn't want to. Just retrieve the Bough, climb in the bus, and pretend this never happened.

"My virtuous Manager, I implore you! Confide in your knights so we may be better prepared for the battle that lies ahead!"

Just had to keep walking, and everything would be fin-

Minos slammed into something hard and solid, the impact sending him sprawling to the ground. He was dazed for a moment, blinking several times before his vision cleared enough to see what he had run into. In front of him was a mountain of a man, only his face visible beneath the impossibly thick set of power armor he wore. Several men wearing identical sets of armor stood behind him, each carrying intricate weaponry - everything from pile-drivers and drill-spears to massive sledgehammers large enough that they could barely fit in the hallway. Hundreds of teeth from all manner of creatures were strung around the leader's torso, trophies claimed from his countless kills and accolades. What kept Minos' gaze was not the teeth, however.

It was the string they hung from.

That soft, blood-red string. He could recognize it anywhere. Nuovo Fabric can be dyed, but it is very rare for it to naturally produce such a vibrant red.

Some say only those deeply in love could produce such a shade.

"You okay, sir?"

Of course. One of the people he wanted to avoid the most. Thank god Minos looked completely different, the last thing he needed was this FUCKING ASSHOLE to recognize him.

"Hope I didn't hurt ya or nothin'. Heh - I'm kind of a big deal, so I don't really need a scandal, y'know?"

One of the men who took everything from him. Right up there, right next to fucking Poseidon himself.

"You're in... 'Limbo Group', yeah? Glad to have you helpin out in the Labyrinth! We'll head in first and clear as much as we can, so do your best to help out from the sidelines, okay?"

This fucker killed her. He wanted an advantage so he killed someone who loved him. And now he wants to kill him too. Minos wouldn't let that happen. If he had to die, it would be by Minos' hand, not this piece of shit!

Minos would never forgive the man named-

"If you need to ring for help down there, just call for-"

<Theseus...>

The man looked shocked for a moment, before a smug look crossed his face. He scratched his chin for a moment, as if in thought.

"Oh? Y'know me? Heh, I guess even I have fans, huh? I'm no Achilles or Heracles, but I have my fame too~. Tell ya what old top, I'll give you an autograph when we finish the job - do real nice and I might even lend ya one of my old practice drill-spears as a souvenir."

He held a hand out to Minos to help him up, but when the man didn't take it, he awkwardly scratched the back of his head. He motioned for the rest of his Tritons to follow him, winking at the Sinners before taking his leave. The 15 Sinners surrounded their Manager, panting on the ground like he had run a marathon.

<I...>

Minos closed his eyes.

Rhapsody 1: The Unwilling Sacrifice

Part 1: Katabasis

Warning