Epilogue — Chicago

On a Saturday evening in June of 2024, The Justicar Lucinde stepped out of the American Museum of Surgical Sciences in Chicago, and made a call. She moved away from the noise of the old mansion behind her, filled with plotting kindred abuzz with the evening’s events. So far, there had been meetings, trials, agendas, tests, ordeals, and summits as Prince Jackson’s guests, over 200 of them, delighted in a rare opportunity to come together in Chicago. Amidst the chaos, however, a deal was struck, which prompted the Justicar to issue a very rare order to her Archons: a capture.

Two minutes later, a dark van pulled into the driveway, and a hooded figure, staked and immobilized, was carried from a service door and loaded into the van’s double-doors. The Red Lister Germaine was her prisoner, having surrendered, of all things. While every successful removal from the Red List was different, this one was especially so. The Brujah had posed as an Anarch diplomat, and together with a group of Anarchs and Anarch sympathizers, had negotiated his own exchange. The price was practically unheard of: the city of Las Vegas. 

Already, Lucinde had signed an order instructing all Camarilla members to withdraw, and officially ceding the territory to the Anarchs. What few kindred remained to hear the order were mere remnants, the result of a FIRSTLIGHT purge of the City of Sin several years ago which killed off nearly all of the previous court. Those who survived were scarcely enough to constitute a petty domain, let alone have any claim to control of the city. Even if the Masquerade wasn’t a concern, Las Vegas’s location was too far away from the nearest Camarilla city to make a fight against the Inquisition practical. Therefore, ceding a military quagmire to the Anarchs in exchange for one of the Camarilla’s most wanted was a bit of a coup on her part. Let the Movement spend all its resources trying to prop up its latest experiment. Its ability to manage anything beyond a patchwork of turfs was unproven. Successfully running a city of that size as a single entity would be an unlikely first.

Meanwhile, Lucinde had one last commitment to fulfill: Germaine had been guaranteed a trial as part of the arrangement. She stepped inside the van as its rear doors slammed shut. Assembling a proper judiciary would take months, but the Justicar was in no hurry. Few notice their departure as the van emerges from the driveway, leaving the soiree behind. Jackson had done well this evening, she thinks. Maybe Chicago would be worth another visit sometime.