Malachus Worthington's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Malachus turned another page in the planning commission's file, scanning rows of permit approvals and zoning amendments. The documents were dense with bureaucratic language, but he had learned long ago that power hid best in plain sight. He found it three-quarters through the stack. A crystalline scroll wedged between two routine sewer maintenance contracts, its edges catching the lamplight. The bioluminescent ink glowed faintly as he unrolled it, revealing a chemical analysis from the refinery tower that loomed over the district's largest operation. The numbers told a simple story: the vats were leaking compounds into the groundwater at levels that would condemn the entire quarter if anyone noticed. Malachus sat back, the scroll still glowing in his hands. The operator's grand factory hub with its towering smokestacks and fused glass panels was built on corroded foundations, literally. The permits in front of him showed the operator had known for eighteen months. Every signature, every amended safety report, every redirected inspection — all documented proof of deliberate concealment. He rolled the scroll carefully and slipped it into his coat. The industrial district's most visible power was about to become its most desperate seller, and Malachus would be the only buyer who knew why the price had to be so low.