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Well, the smarter among you have realized that the object we'd been looking for was Typer's Box.

We found it in a small shop by the Sea. I broke through the front door with little effort. There weren't any alarms, which certainly made things easier. The three of us scavenged through the store until I eventually found the Box.

Just as Typer said: Pure black, with the color and texture of obsidian, broken only by His mark in dark crimson. About the size of a toaster, but... it was enough to give me a headache just looking at it.

Which was when the owner walked in. Typer's father. Now I understand why Typer was so damnably insane before he died: it must have seemed like the world was conspiring against him.

The man had Typer's face. He... surprised me. I had already torn his arm off before realizing who he was. Breaking his neck sort of became a necessity after that. Gallows jumped around in glee at the blood, but...

After we left, I decided we should part ways. I attempted to... not teleport, I hate that word. I tried to displace myself. It did not work.

The sea: salty, calm, endless and, due to my arrival, boiling hot. The salt and the heat stung at my skin, and the Box glowed black. Its weight began to pull me under the surface, so it was all I could do to teleport again, which is how I arrived in Venezuela. fucking Venezuela

So that is when I decided to contact the Executor. I'm frankly surprised my phone worked (especially around the Box) but it did. I had a very specific demand: a carrying case made of jade, lined with anything but jade. If Typer's notes are to be believed, Jade can block the Box's weaker pulses, but direct exposure will cause it to, in Typer's words "react in a way roughly as destructive as an elephantine stampede, without the inherent weaknesses of such a movement". I'm not sure how he managed it, but by the next morning the Executor showed, case in hand.

"This is what you needed, yes?"
I willed all my hatred and murderous rage at him. He winced. Telepaths are fun.

I smiled, "I believe so. Thank you for your time."

I placed the Box inside the case, but before I could displace, the Executor coughed.

"Do not believe I was lending you the duo without reason. It wasn't out of charit; I expect when called you will answer a favor, like the favor I graced you."

I cocked my head, "As with anything, it depends on the favor. For now I'll say yes. We'll see when the time comes."

He stared at me for some time. I wish I could see his expression behind that mask.

"So be it." And he was gone.

And soon, so was I.