Cosmo Grimaldi

Downtown always seemed to produce a smoky, dingy smell. Even after several years of meandering through Manhattan’s collapsed buildings and craquelured streets, Cosmo never got used to the smell. Part of him, he figured, must have wanted to retain the significance of that odd, slightly off-putting sensation, perhaps to serve as a reminder about the significance of the island. Just a year before, Cosmo’s great successes all seemed to come in relative anonymity in Queens, and Manhattan served as the conspicuous exhibition of his military failures. Manhattan continued to remind him of his shortcomings as a Golden Banner lieutenant, boldly taunting him with that distinctly strange smell.

Maybe Cosmo would be better not to let those memories fade into obscurity, along with the infinitely many observations and recollections that Cosmo’s hyperevolved mind had come to capture. Maybe his very being had insisted upon Cosmo remembering Manhattan. Maybe there was something significant that he would do better to educe.

Whatever the reason, the Golden Banner’s prodigal lieutenant rarely stepped foot in Downtown Manhattan. When the Golden Banner wrestled the territory from the clutches of the Crimson Saber, Cosmo was not one of the principal orchestrators. He was not one of the lieutenants that returned to Noten Park with heaps of praise. Consequently, when it came time for Mr. Kingsolver to parcel out territories for his illustrious lieutenants to control, Cosmo drew Queens, and not Manhattan—not that he had a preference either way.

Yet, despite the rarity of his visits, the faceless stragglers seemed to avoid him instinctively. Cosmo did not have the renown of a Seneca Sepulveda, the presence of a Leon Chambers, the intimidation of a Gareth Richelieu, or the reverence of a Zinnia Almassy, but he still noticed the quiet recoils from the scurrying residents as he passed them. Maybe it was the sight of a confident figure striding down the center of a street in broad daylight, with no particular destination and no urgency in getting to wherever he was going. Maybe it was because people, upon looking at Cosmo, often got the dreaded sense that, beneath the handsome visage and charming façade, something… was… wrong.

But if there was anything wrong, Cosmo never took any of it to heart. Instead, he continued sauntering down the middle of the abandoned street, counting to himself the number of stragglers that made it a point to avoid him, peering out from their shelters as if believing that Cosmo could not see them. Instead, he continued to add to his mental tally, amused by the behavior of people from whom he seemed to drift further and further away, “Forty-seven—forty-eight—forty-nine.”

Not much could make Cosmo break his gallivant and stop to watch. Though he did not move towards any place in particular, and though he lacked accompaniment by anyone, the Golden Banner lieutenant did not have an ounce of fear in his entire body. In fact, depending upon their definition of the word, some would say that Cosmo Kingsolver had no fear at all—that he had lost the ability to show fear or be afraid. Certainly, the era where adrenaline would course through his veins and energize his fight or flight response was years in the past, but Cosmo dismissed those dehumanizing complaints as trivial matters. He had the power and cognizance to recognize the gravity of situation—to recognize danger—and to react with the proper strategy; that, he claimed, was just the same as fear.

As he continued to make his way through the deserted streets, Cosmo eventually encountered one of those rare sights that could legitimately halt his step and engage his attentions. Though the distance between the two was still long, and Cosmo could only see her because of his superhuman eyesight, he could clearly discern the sight of a slender woman, fingers clutching a blackened weapon that had just cleanly decapitated one of those pieces of “abstract art.” But unlike others, who used rusted iron or recycled metal, this particular woman seemed to have a marvelous weapon that she seemingly conjured from thin air.

Unveiling a peculiar tilt of his head, Cosmo lips curled into an inquisitive smirk. He was, at least, human enough for curiosity, and this woman was, at least, amusing enough for his interest…