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Sunday, April 27, 2008

The Cypher's Tale 36 Rev B


Tyson bailed out of an unmarked white van at a rear entrance to Plaza 43. Kelly closed the door remotely, concealing a pile of black and grey, and drove away bewildered.

Tyson didn't care. He popped open the exterior door with a crowbar- an elegant tool from a more civilized age- and tossed it in a dumpster. He entered a disused stairwell.

On the 300th floor, a white haired man was cracked across the back of the skull and fell unconscious. The office was empty now but for a back room. Five men watched a presentation of Alpha Point's new marketing campaign. Charts and figures hovered above the table they surrounded.

The door opened. Bryant turned to speak but found a black, varnished piece of wood in his solar plexus. Tyson spun the other end to smack the presenter's temple. Both men crumpled. Tyson lifted the meter of wood and brought it down
"What are-"
on the soft spot of a third skull.
The two businessmen on the other side of the table glanced at each other. One began to draw a pistol, but Tyson swept the stick across the table and unleashed a 90 cm blade through the man's hand. He brought it back and grasped the handle like a staff. The blade sheened like oil.


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