39. P O W E R : Tower, Part III

CHAPTER III

Immediately, a flood of voices and scents cascaded over the PFC. The restaurant was filled to the brim with patrons and Masked staff members, and the smell of succulent appetizers paired with gourmet dishes wafted through the air.

"There they are! The flock of the hour!"

The PFC turned slightly to the left, where they spotted a large table occupied by Fisi and a host of Masked Men. The so-called "hyena god"—as many citizens disparagingly called him—had his hands outspread and was giggling weirdly... which, ironically, wasn't very "weird" for him.

"Come, come, take your seats!" Fisi urged, beckoning to the Avatar and Worthy. "Don't be shy—the boys don't bite, hmhm."

Cameron frowned but led her Worthy over to the table before folding her wings and daintily sitting down directly across from Fisi. Zill and Kayla sat on her left while Gustav sat on her right, all focusing their scrutinizing gazes on Fisi.

"So glad you accepted my invitation," Fisi gushed, clasping his hands together and leaning back. "Though from the looks on your faces, I'd assume you're more interested in cross-examining me than fine dining with friends, heehee," he added, grinning.

Cameron gave him a thin smile. "Seeing as how we're not friends, I wouldn't think that'd be a disappointment," she responded in an uncharacteristically-cold voice.

"Oh, do be cordial, my dear," Fisi told her with a scoff, waving a hand at her. "I'm paying out of my own pockets for this dinner. It isn't cheap, you know. Besides, I haven't shown you any hostility, have I?"

"Not personally, no," Cameron responded. "But I'm pretty sure I bashed that guy's face in during an illegal weapons deal last night." She jerked her head at one of the Masked Men.

The Masked Man said nothing, nor did he react to her words.

"Mmm, hmhmhm... such a strong accusation from one with no evidence to support it," Fisi remarked, tapping his claws together as a chuckle escaped through his grinning teeth. "Shame on you, Avatar."

"Okay, what do you want, Fisi?" Zill snapped, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward. "I know you didn't just call us here to mess with us or—or feed us some stupid gourmet dinner! So just get to the point, huh? Tell us why we're really having this meeting."

Fisi's head turned slightly to his left.

The PFC followed his gaze.

And, to their surprise, they saw a collection of reporters and journalists spread throughout that side of the restaurant, eagerly watching (and taking pictures of) the meeting between the Dark Celestial and the Protectors.

"Good publicity, heeheehee," Fisi said, turning back to the PFC as his grin grew wider.

"You little—"

Cameron put a hand on Zill's shoulder, making him freeze before he could stand up fully. With her eyes still on the reporters, she slowly but firmly forced the arthrogon back into his seat.

Zill glanced at her and then glared at Fisi, his antennae quivering angrily.

Cameron returned her gaze to Fisi as well, fixing it upon him for a long moment.

Fisi stared back with his empty, hollow eyes, examining her expression. She did not appear frightened or frazzled, but rather... analytical. She was reading the situation, trying to figure out the best way to react to the setup.