---

Everyone's words flowed off of him, and while he picked up some of their meaning, much of it was lost as he calmed his almost instinctual reaction of rage and hatred towards Szayeis. It took him a bit longer to calm down, but when he did he came upon the wounded individual speaking, followed swiftly by their host.

Additionally he noticed another newcomer, to whom he merely raised an eyebrow. Flashy, self absorbed, and maybe even more than a little stupid. Wouldn't survive long, he practically concluded before turning his gaze back to Zeki and then to the man who had said Szayeis' name, raising an eyebrow. The man didn't feel of Szayeis, didn't smell it either, in fact his worries were probably justified.

After all, Szayeis had been a wanted licenti on an international level before the prae had set their sights on his life and Mairyell had been to far too many places that were now ghost towns...or barely functional cities because of the licenti and those who followed him.

His eyes fell back on Zeki, but he decided that such was enough and pushed himself from where he leaned against the wall, a hand going to his pocket, retrieving what appeared to be a business card or two. He threw one towards Zeki and walked over to their 'leader,' offering one to him as well. “On that card is a way all of us can stay in contact. Private web server, of sorts, been using it for clients for hundreds of years without a breach. There's a sign in process even via any mobile device, but it won't take long and all the passwords necessary are on that card.”

Once Charles had taken the card, the hybrid would make his way to the door, passing the red haired overly muscular giant behind with an odd chuckle. “I'd suggest working out the plan in that server where we can all see it. I'll be in touch,” he waved without turning back to them, the gesture over his shoulder, before he vanished beyond the door and, soon after, into the night.

---

---

Maintaining the worry in his tone and body language, the disguised Szayeis in truth felt amusement in his core. The arrival of the red head didn't bother him, but he made an effort to be startled, and then somewhat impressed by the magic the human displayed. He smiled at the man warmly, welcoming him with his body language rather than words, before he glanced back to Zeki as the words of their 'host' struck home. "Work for him!?!" he exclaimed, taking one, then two steps back, looking affronted, a look of abject horror in his eyes. "Do you know what that thing has done? Cities reduced to barely functioning towns. Towns into ghost towns, bereft of any inhabitants. Monstrous murders. Assassinations, and any number of other things I hope I'll never know," he shuddered at the thought, and shook his head as if to perish it. "I just heard he was in town through some of my sources. I'm a detective and private investigator. Some of my more wealthy clients...they like to know when threats or opportunities enter the city, so I have contacts who keep an eye on things like that. Szayeis is a threat, so I know he's here and having had to research the insane bastard, I know about him."

"So perish the thought of me getting a message to him. I'm getting my family out of the city. Who knows what he's got planned, but I won't have my own in danger of being caught up in it," in this he injected some of the human's real emotions, making it all the more convincing. After all, the human he had possessed had a family...once, and was truly feeling fear. The licenti noticed that some of that fear was assigned to individuals who had not lived in the house. It appeared he'd have more clean up to do.

He paused a moment as Mairyell gave his card to Zeki and Charles. He nodded his head to the hybrid before turning his attention to Zeki, an idea in his eyes. "I've, got a card too actually," he said, fishing one from his pocket. "I may not be much use in a fight, but I can do reconnaissance and keep my ear to the ground. Been evading the prae's attempts to find trails back to me for months, no reason I can't snoop some more into their databases, maybe get some key details." He smiled at Zeki, then Charles, a glint of mischief and intelligence in his eyes.

If they took the bait, it meant that Szayeis could use this human as an unwilling pawn, whilst dangling the man's still living relatives over his head. He'd use them as unwitting hostages and it would be glorious. If he hadn't been so hasty to arrive, he could have left the wife alive perhaps.

Oh well, it was too late for that now.

---

---

She had bid her newest little tool to arrive in her office soon, she thought as she once more gazed upon the sun as it ascended towards the sky's zenith. It was so different from their own star, a different color, different size. So many differences between her world and this one, each one a thing of intrigue, she thought. She was curious what the day would hold, especially since it did not appear that the Broker had gotten in contact with her again, nor showed up unannounced—which he had done before.

Hearing a buzz from her desk she turned and pushed a button, speaking as she did so, “He is here I presume?” Her voice was smooth and almost sensual, even in its natural and relaxed state, a beautiful thing.

“Yes Exeo, he will be at your door momentarily,” the operator on the other side responded. The exeo nodded and let go of the button, instead she sat down behind her desk, folding on leg over the other at the knee, and laying her hands gently on her lap, a smile forming on her face. She glanced down at the table of her desk, looking over some documents before her knight arrived.

There had been strange reports of alleys and streets that no one could pass, despite a total lack of physical barriers. There were also odd areas where nothing seemed to happen. No one passed through them, no one was in them. Anomalies of some sort, she thought, but couldn't be sure.

She would be sending some agents out to investigate later.

Beyond that she'd heard tell of some kind of gathering at the very edges of town in the industrial district. Apparently in a warehouse of some sort. Very few people had been apprehended as she had only managed to send authorities there after most of them had departed. It was unfortunate but it was enough.

Those in custody had been interrogated, given warnings, and then let go. What they had revealed both amused and worried her.

A rebellion was forming.

Interrupting the thought, she heard a soft chime at her door, causing her to look up and smile. It appeared that her knight was about to enter her office.

Wonderful~

She had a particular task in mind for him already and was certain he'd be hanging on her every word, the poor youngling.

“Yes, please do come in,” she said as a sound notified her that someone had swiped their identification/clearance card on the other side of the door.

She waited, wondering how he would present himself.

---

The mid-afternoon sun hung unusually low in the sky, shining its light over the quad of the university. The scent of rain clung to the air as empty storm clouds floated lazily through the sky.

On a bench somewhat out of the center of the grassy area of the quad shadowed by the branches of a weeping willow a girl with short purple hair lounged, a bored expression on her face as she adjusted and then finally removed the bag that hung over her shoulder.

After a moment or two, the girl rummaged through the bag at her side and retrieved her cellphone to check the time, only to find she had a record twelve text messages from an unsaved number, but a number that she knew nonetheless.

"Ugh." Was all she had to say before tapping the power button on her phone lightly to turn the screen back off.

Not today, Estelle. Seriously.

"You're here early, couldn't sleep?" She said as she approached her friend, her school bag slung over her shoulder, though it rested in front of her, held by both hands. There was a smile on her lips and following her words she sat down next to Leah, leaving a few inches between them so she didn't make Leah uncomfortable...or feel awkward herself. She was wearing blue jeans, a hairband to keep most of her purple hair out of her eyes, and to top it off she had a white sweater on to fend off the wind. After all, it was a bit chilly that day and she didn't want to get sick.

Leah's aqua eyes fell on Madison as she approached, her bored expression exchanged for one of relief. "You could say that. I had work last night; when I got home it was already 6 AM. Estelle had decided to start calling my other phone incessently around then. Really glad I didn't take it with me, could've caused a lot of problems." Leah rambled, her voice betraying how tired and somewhat grumpy she was as she moved her bag to give Madison some more room on the bench.

She smiled empathetically, understanding what it was like, though for a totally different reason. After all, Madison wasn't a Hunter and she doubted she'd ever be. That sort of business was too daring for her, she couldn't imagine risking her life every day not to mention the trouble she knew some hunters had to go through just to acquire a proper assignment. Still, she'd had weeks where work was too much and her load of homework was particularly high. It got...difficult.

"I'm sorry. I hope she's not bothering you too much," she said, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear and reaching down to her bag, to flip it open and fish within. After a moment she pulled out a packet of what appeared to be cookies. She offered a few to Leah, "These might help. I can't guarantee it...since I made them myself, but they shouldn't taste bad at least."

In all honesty she felt partly responsible for Leah's break up with Estelle, though on another level it was kind of a relief. The girl's bullying had stopped since that incident and she hadn't even gotten suspended. Of course, that was mostly because of Leah and a few of her classmates, who had stood up for her even after she'd walked away. She was glad Leah had stepped in when she had...otherwise it could've gotten really bad.

Leah silently took the cookies offered to her and munched as her phone dinged over and over again. As she ingested her friend's baked goods she could feel her energy returning to her little by little, and smiled. "Thanks, Maddie. I didn't know you baked, though. These are really good." Leah looked at her with a small grin, obviously ignoring the vibrating phone in her lap.

Her cheeks flushing slightly at the compliment, Madison glanced away, turning her attention to the numerous students making their way too and fro, some of them leaving, some of them just getting out of, or going into, class while others relaxed among the small glenn of trees that had been planted in the courtyard, or quad as most called it. She smiled a bit to herself as despite the light chill coming off the water further into the city at the coast, it was a beautiful day and she got to spend it with a friend. Well, at least some of it, she did have class after all. "Thanks," she said a bit belatedly, "My, um, mother taught me, though it was my grandmother's recipe," she continued, lightly tugging at one of her earrings, the same ones she always wore.

She let her hand drop back down to her lap where she began playing with the flap of her bag. After a moment she looked at Leah and asked, "So are they working? I used a bit of magic in them to see if I could mimic the effects of caffeine, but without the beany taste of coffee."

"Mhmm." Leah answered, her mouth full of cookie at the time. Once she swallowed the food, she looked at Madison, and folded her hands over her phone. "So, what do you think the odds of me being able to get into a few of your classes are?"

She beamed at Leah's response, happy to know that /some/ of her magic actually worked...sometimes. Of course, she'd been trying to make the cookies work for weeks. The first couple batches had literally exploded, luckily she'd managed to...well, make that stop. Of course, not before the cookies had ruined three pans. She definitely wasn't going to get to shop for herself for a few weeks. "Mmm, I don't know. They typically seperate the magic-based classes by aptitude and type. Most, um, students with inborn magic go to the higher aptitude classes," she tapped her chin lightly, then fished a thin pamphlet out of her bag, handing it to Leah. It laid out the different class levels and while Leah would have seen it before, Madison always felt it was easier to understand when you looked at it...rather than trying to recall it from memory even if hers was uncannily good.

"I'm in the second level and the typical inborn class is about one or two levels above my class. So the chances aren't great, given you've had more practice than me...and I can hardly make a small floating light without almost blinding someone."

"I mean, no one has to know I was born with it. It's not like I have family that anyone would know about... Aside from Uncle Reates, of course." Leah smiled, but there was a saddness hidden just beneath the surface of her expression. At least she had someone though... That was more than a lot of others could say.

While she didn't frown outright, Madison's eyebrows lowered slightly and the joy in her eyes dimmed a bit before she reached out and rubbed Leah's arm in a gesture of comfort, a smile forming again. "Well, I'm sure Reates makes up for the fair share of missed embarrasing moments, mmm?" She ever so lightly pushed Leah, just to jostle her a bit, though unbeknownst to her, a little magic leaked through, mimicking the girl's own mood and the idea of comfort.

It was something that happened every so often with Madison, of course even when someone brought it to her attention there was little recognition of the action, as if she had not only done it unintentionally, but also had no recollection of the sensation.

Leah laughed softly, "Yeah. Definitely." As Maddie rubbed Leah's arm there was a small but audible pop followed by a spark of aqua and purple particles. Leah knew what the reaction meant, but she didn't hold it against Madison as she couldn't control her magic, thus, she simply maintained her smile.

Jumping slightly at the sound, very briefly startled, having withdrawn her hand by reflex rather than rationale. "Oh, sorry," she apologized, smiling awkwardly, though clearly Leah was playing it off as if nothing had happened. She really wished that she could at least control when she released vis, or how much she used, but for whatever reason it was really hard. Like trying to withdraw a cup of water by opening floodgates only a tiny bit. Sometimes she felt like it was an excercise in futility, but every so often she succeeded, and that drove her forwards.

Her hand finding its way back to her bag she offered Leah another cookie.

"You're fine, Maddie. It's no biggie. My magic doesn't play well with others when it's via contact. Dunno why, though." As if to punctuate the sentiment that she wasn't upset she gently pushed her shoulder against Madison's with a playful smile before taking the cookie that was offered to her.

Her awkward smile remaning, though there was a bit of relief in her eyes, Madison retrieved a cookie for herself--more for the taste than the energy--and took a bite, her eyes turning to people watch. It really was a nice day.

After a moment of silence, Leah's phone once again began to vibrate incessently, she couldn't help but glare down at the device. "Doesn't she have class? What the fuck does she even want?!" The girl growled more to herself than to Madison.

While Madison frowned at her friend's frustration, the two both failed to notice the approach of a girl who happened to be holding a phone to her ear. However, the moment she took it away and closed it, was the moment that the ringing stopped. Approaching with sass writ in every step, Estelle made her entrance, her eyes a fiery glare as she saw Madison alongside the one she had to admit she still loved.

How could Nebula have just thrown away all the time they'd spent together for that birther trollop?! She just didn't understand what Nebula saw in Madison. She didn't understand it at all. "So this is where you were," Estelle said almost accusingly as she sauntered over and then stopped in front of them, crossing her arms as she peered down at her "ex" expectantly.

Madison shrunk at the girl's approach, clutching her bag tightly against her. She really wished Estelle would just leave Leah, and by proxy her, alone already....

Hearing a familiar voice, Leah's eyes rose from her now silent phone, her glare matching that of her former girlfriend. At first, she didn't say anything, taking note of Madison's reaction from the periphery of her vision. Out of a desire to calm her friend she put her hand gently on her shoulder before addressing Estelle, "For the last hour or so, yeah. And?"

A small grin tugged at the corner of her lips as she kept eye contact with Estelle. The smile was something of a defense mechanism, she did it whenever she felt uncomfortable. She found that if you smiled, or grinned at someone who was mad at you they became a lot more likely to lose their footing in the conversation so-to-speak.

Though, if she was honest, she didn't want to be mean to Estelle. She wished she could help her. However, due to the girl's biggoted nature toward anyone who was born with magic, she knew that it would be too difficult for her to do so on her own, and would more than likely cause more damage to herself than it would help her ex.

Madison noticed the grin, but only vaguely recognized it, her attention more focused on looking anywhere but Estelle, while simultaneously trying to pay attention to her and Leah. Estelle seemed to like the timidness that she was displaying, and Madison hated that. Hated that she was letting the girl lord over her again. A frown crossed her brow, but she made no further indication of her feelings.

Estelle on the otherhand, was much more open about how she felt, her weight leaned on one side, aimed towards her ex in a subtle fashion while she displayed body language that closed Madison off from the interaction. Furthermore, she responded, the derision writ plain on her face, "So you sat here with 'her' while I tried to talk to you, knowing I was at the school?" There was a brief pause, before she continued, "Wow, that's pretty cold, Nebula. Throwing me out to dry at your convenience? I came over to talk, but based on your behavior, well...." Her jaw clenched as while she was putting on a very convincing strong front, she was considerably more vulnerable than she appeared.

The truth was she was hurting. She missed Nebula...and she even felt some regret, but it didn't matter, did it? Nebula didn't care about her feelings. If their relationship hadn't lasted as long as it had, she might have even thought it was a fling, but then...no one was 'that' malicious, right? Right.

When Estelle spoke again, Leah rose from the bench and folded her arms, her piercing aqua eyes locked on her ex. "Do not talk about Madison like she's not here, and, also, stop treating her like she isn't a person. No one deserves that, no matter what you think of them." Leah's voice was stern, her face contorted with anger. "I sat with her because she's my friend, and because she's going to help me register for classes here." Once her piece was said, Leah sat back down, her eyes still locked on Estelle.

Somewhat taken aback by Nebula's words, Estelle did her best not to react more than she had initially, having taken a small step backwards, her body language tense before she managed to relax a bit and try again after all it seemed that nothing she had said had reached Nebula, which was more than a little irksome. "Fine," she said in reply before a brief pause. The silence almost had Madison biting her fingernails, but she managed to grip her bag tighter instead.

"So I guess you're going to keep ignoring my calls then?" Estelle finally said, a small frown on her face. The blunt question caused Madison to look up, and then over at Leah. She was...more than a little surprised that Estelle had really just asked.

"Until you adjust the way you treat people, yes. I don't want anything to do with someone who would treat anyone the way you treat Madison, or anyone born with magic for that matter." The words left Leah's mouth before she could stop them, followed by a sharp pain in her chest that she fought to ignore. This was killing her. She loved Estelle, she really did, enough that she didn't dare break her dreamworld with the actual truth behind why it upset her so much.

The girl needed to figure it out on her own. She needed to understand that not all those born with magic were bad, but Leah wasn't the one she would learn from. Their entire relationship had been built on lies.

Except for one.

Biting her lip a moment before sighing, she turned away and left, waving over her shoulder before stuffing her hands into her pockets roughly. This had not gone well at all....

Meanwhile, Madison let out a sigh of relief as soon as Leah's ex was out of earshot, her body visibly relaxing as she did so. She leaned back into the bench and closed her eyes, face upturned to the sky. She really hoped that stopped happening...she couldn't deal with people like that for long.

As Estelle left without a word, Leah bowed her head, her eyes looking toward Madison from beneath her bangs. She'd done the right thing, she knew, but she couldn't help the heartache that she was feeling. "Do you think she hates me?" Leah asked, her voice low as she clutched her phone in her hands.

She wouldn't have been surprised if Estelle did hate her, there were times where she hated herself, so why couldn't someone else?

At Leah's words, a frown formed on her face, though her eyes did not open right away. After a moment she moved to look at Leah, before pushing her lightly. "No, I don't think she hates you," she said, smiling reassuringly. She really didn't like this. The fact that they had separated because of her...or the fact that Leah was hurting because Estelle wouldn't take the hint and buzz off.

Oops.... That had been harsh. She visibly winced at the thought, before looking down and away, fishing in her bags. She had brought some of the forms from the office. The ones Leah had to fill out for classes and whatnot.

She extracted them and offered them to Leah, "Now, we can get along with our day and try not to let her bother us, or...I can give you a hug first." Madison did her best winning smile as she said it, though her voice was just a bit shaky.

At Madison's words, Leah half smiled, her eyes seeming to lack a certain light that was normally present. When Madison offered a hug, the girl almost immediately leaned on her for support, a heavy sigh falling from her lips as she did so.

Once she pulled away from the hug, Leah's gaze moved down to the papers in her friend's hands. "So, what do I have to do with those?"

A certain warmth coming over her as Leah accepted her hug, Madison squeezed her once before letting her go. She cleared her throat--and head--a little before she replied, "Well, mostly you read them and fill them out. It's pretty much just paper work haha."

For a time, Leah simply stared at the pages in Madison's hands. It seemed as though she had picked up both a standard enrollment form and a class list of some kind. After a moment of trepidation, she riffled through her bag to grab a hardcover novel and gently took the papers from Maddie's hands, "Do you have a pen or something I could borrow?"

"Oh, of course!" She said, pulling one from a smaller pocket in her bag and handing it to Leah. "Sorry, eheh."

The girl took the pen with a grateful smile and began dutifully scribbling her information down on the enrollment sheet. She decided she was going to apply under her real name. There was no point in hiding it, there were only two people who knew the significance of it on the entire campus. After a few minutes of filling out various pieces of the same information, she came upon a section which gave her pause.

Magic Assessment Exam

"Mm... Maddie, what's this?" Leah questioned her friend, sitting up from her hunched over position.

"Ah, well, students generally go through a few tests if they plan to take any magic related classes to see where they'd fit best. The test sorta figures out a person's aptitude, affinity...and well, if you've got any inherent magic." She rubbed the back of her neck a bit, watching Leah's reaction from the corner of her eye. She hoped that the test didn't put her off. "I uh...the classes are typically separated by those with and without inborn magic, but there are exceptions," she looked down. "Like me...I've got inborn magic, but I'm in the normal class because I can't control it at all...but I guess you knew that already."

"Hmm... Well, maybe I can fake it to get into your classes." Leah mumbled to herself as she scribbled her information down in the applicable fields. The rest of the form, which pertained to the courses that she was going to take, and when she was available for the exam she left blank. They would remain that way until she could talk to her uncle, and figure out what exactly she needed to do.

Smiling sympathetically at her friend as she heard the mumbled words, Madison decided not to say anything regarding that and instead watched people go about their business while Leah filled out what she could of the form. When she had done as much as she was able, Madison glanced to her and smiled, "Now, enough with all this business, would you like a tour?" There was a cheery excitement to her as she said it.

"Sure." Leah responded as she stuffed the application papers into her bag, and handed Madison her pen. "Lead the way, fair maiden." The woman spoke, a lopsided grin resting on her lips.

Madison brightened, got up, then lightly tugged at Leah's hand before letting go and heading into campus with a bounce in her step. She had blushed a little, but luckily for her Leah wouldn't see it through her back. Hopefully.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ominar - The Spire: Office of Ais

Nasargiel entered the office of Aismael Vea-Vartari, it was an office that did not ooze the feeling of cozy, it more or less appeared to be a place of purpose rather than luxury. A room that every bit of its design was for functionality versus aesthetics, a trait that Aismael Vea-Vartari didn't quite follow, she had beauty, purpose, and functionality. Traits that earned her respect in all corners of both realms that the Prae ruled over. Upon placing his feet into the room of his Exeo, he slowed his breathing and lightened his step. These were his attempts to keep the peace of the room intact, his movement wasn't strong, but graceful, a tone Nasargiel needed to set when approaching his Exeo, showing her submissiveness in this particular situation. A loyal dog, servant, soldier, it was Nasargiel's role to understand and appreciate, a key piece he had hoped, in her endeavors to continue a strong reign. Reaching what Nasargiel considered a respectable distance, his feet lightly planted themselves to the pristine kept floor. His chin was up, chest big, and hands to his side, bowing before his Exeo with bent hips forward, with his coat draping down his back and sides. A respectful gesture that had been embedded in him for years by his parents.

Priscus - Vale: Before Present Day

"1! 2! 3!, AGAIN!, 1! 2! 3!, AGAIN!" Nasargiel's father continued to strike as he parried, blocked, moved, and rolled in and out of position. Nasargiel's hands gripped tight to his training sword, another swing coming at his cheek from his left, ducking instinctively and cutting up with his own weapon to his father's chin. Before his weapon could meet his father's face, his father continued the momentum of his swing from right to left and allowed the weight of his swing and sword to carry him in a circular path. His right foot would slide with his body and step a few hairs back which would have Nasargiel's weapon's tip just miss the hairs on the back of his father's head. His father would make a complete 360 degree turn, transfer his double handed swing into a one handed allowing his left hand to finish the turn and smack Nasargiel in the side of the ankle, sweeping both legs with the training sword, Nasargiel would fall to his side and his father grabbed the sword with both hands now to his left side, raise it, and drop it just inches from Nasargiel's neck.

"Once again, you must think 3 steps ahead...or your opponent will always be 2 ahead of you." His father's tone did not portray a disappointed man, but one that was a little upset at the outcome. Nasargiel looked at his father, raised his eye brow, and then looked at his father's foot. His father looked down and felt a tight grip around his ankle. His father looked at Nasargiel once more and smiled, Nasargiel applied his telekenesis which sent his father backward, losing his training sword in the process. Nasargiel quickly recovering, reached his feet and held tight to his training weapon.

"Boys!" A familiar voice snapped in both Nasargiel's and his father's head. The two "boys" looked at each other and laughed for a second acknowledging that it was the queen bee of their trio. Nasargiel's mother, and she was ready for the two to come home. When they arrived home, Nasargiel walked in and passed over to the food that had been sitting on the table, of course it was very quickly reminded to him by his father of how rude he just acted, "Is that how you would act toward others? Your mother spent all day preparing and you walk by her without any acknowledgement...disrespect is what you are employing?"

Nasargiel was quick to try and fix what disrespect he had caused, "I am sorry, I just saw the food and..." No excuses, no second changes, that was how his father saw it, and he saw no use but to rectify and face consequences. Nasargiel walked in front of his mother, stood tall, chest out, chin up, and hands by his side. He bowed to her as he would his Exeo when he grew older.

"May you find my actions as mistake and not direct, my apologies, mother." Still holding his head high while his hips bent forward, it was not shameful to accept your actions as mistake and he knew if he put his head down, it would be as if he was embarrassed by his actions versus understanding them.

"Sit my child, eat, but remember that respect, loyalty, and understanding, this is what will keep you distant from those who succeed and those who fail." His mother said gently as her palm rested on Nasargiel's head.

Ominar - The Spire: Aismael's Office

Nasargiel raised his body upward, he was before the Exeo, attentive, ready, and addressed his Exeo as best as he knew how, “My grace, Exeo Aismael Vea-vartari, bid your will, so that I may grant it so."

---

Charles wondered when the seed would take effect. He had been carefully monitoring his internal systems and found little changes compared to before the foreign object had been inserted. In fact his condition, much to his alarm, had deteriorated further rather than progressed. Darkness edged into his peripheral vision and threatened to blind him, his anxiety heightened by the helplessness. His arm continued to hang over Killian's neck as he balanced himself next to the student and give an illusion of stabilizing health. Especially to those individuals descended from or currently unknown licenti in the room.

Unable to shake the old habit, Charles attempted to inch his weight back to his own feet. It became very clear his strength had diminished enough not to matter and instead of standing upright, his legs shook and immediately buckled slightly. His arm tightened reflexively as he feared taking Killian down with him. The young man barely recovered from the failed action and quickly jerked the professor to lean back upon him, negatively mumbling insults about Charles' temerarious instinct to look stronger.

Any additional thoughts became derailed when someone moved toward him. Reflexively his dark head jerked into the direction and lingered, his sight focused onto the fuzzy sight of the Sanguine. Despite the unclear image, the hybrid reminded Charles of a graceful and dangerous predator with a long successful prowling record. A stride himself had once carried before everything crashed down upon his head.

Assumptions aside, Charles noted the card extended toward him and sluggishly plucked it from the Mai's fingers. He shoved it into his jean's pocket, nodded at the advice given and added, “Of course and thank you.”

Charle's eyes followed the vampire until he vanished into the night.

A higher pitched voice, outraged by the accusation made by their host, drew his attention back into the shop. While Charles had been bothered by the whole suddenness of the Szayeis topic, there hadn't truly been any concrete evidence to prove Zeki's statement. In the end, it boiled down to one thing: Zeki vs the man's word. In that moment, Charles realized the man never gave his name when everyone else had. Not once. How...suspicious, he thought then pushed it to the back of his mind for later.

When a card was offered to him, unlike Mai's gesture, Charles didn't reach for it immediately. Instead he mentally seemed to absorb Zeki's words as his head turned from the individual to their host, showing the accusation hadn't been completely ignored. Inhaling softly, his hand cautiously took the card and shoved it too into his back pocket. Either way, if what Zeki had said was true then by the night's end Szayeis would know the details of their plan and things would go horribly wrong in the end.

“Currently I believe our host have provided everything we need to know but it might be a good idea to keep an ear to the ground. Anything changes, let us know promptly. I'm going to get into contact with...someone I know to make some arrangements,” Charles’ tone sounded unpleased by the individual, but no additional information was released to hint of their identity. He continued to grip Killian for support, adding one final word, “First task is to get myself taken care of and that means heading home. Good night and I'll will see you all tomorrow.”

With that said, Charles ushered Killian, Azulia, Archene and himself out the door and into the car not far away.

---

Hours passed before fatigue finally constricted and overwhelmed Charles. Trapped in a restless slumber, his mind awoke several times to readjust upon the narrow couch’s segmented cushions then drifted back to sleep. His arms and legs were spread out at odd angles for better comfort when daylight peered into the windows along the house front and side, illuminated every crease of darkness back into oblivion. Numerous smells, primarily bacon, eggs, and toast, wafted into the living room from the kitchens followed by sizzling as the bacon popped on its own grease within the frying pan.

The combination had been enough to arouse Charles mind to surface as his eyes flickered underneath his lids, then cautiously opened. A mistake it was. Sunlight hit him fast and hard, his hand promptly snapped up to shield his bleary vision when the pain flooded his senses. The grogginess dulled in an instance. A soft groan escaped his dry lips and Charles gradually rose upright, his legs flipped over the edge. He let the soles rest upon the floor firmly before he upright onto them, his weight applied inch by inch to test his allowance upon his legs and relaxed when he could stand fully up. His wound last night had been completely healed when the seed kicked in during the car ride leaving him rejuvenated now.

Unsure if Azulia was awake or not, Charles stumbled tiredly through the hallway and into the dining room.

Killian Jones

Day one: evening | Location: Twilight Spirit

Killian was impressed that Charles was still able to stand on his own. Mainly because the injury had cause much more damage than first assumed. The wound wasn’t quite a cut but more like a massive hole which was more frustrating to sew. In truth the professor’s wound wasn't like anything the man was used to. Granted that he's background was more familiar with bullet holes and knife cuts, His lips lowered as the distant memories formed inside his mind. The man shook his head clear, deciding that it was best to think about such things later on rather than now, allowing his focus back towards the issue at hand.

The human contiued to walk towards the exit just as the shift in weight happened. Thankfully Killian was able to place his right foot behind himself and the left foot towards his right before their expect fall forewords. in a way the guy wanted to scold the professor like a child for his stupid stunt but then again he already had a feeling of why the man had done it. To make the false truth that much of a reality. A few choice words escaped his mouth along with some mumbled insults about how stupid Charles’ action was. Just as the saved happened it seemed everyone wanted his teacher’s attention. One of the man had cased a hidden shiver down the man’s spine though against his better judgement the human kept his mouth shout. Once something was passed towards the man Killian exited out the entrance.

What sounded like a high pitched caused the young man to stop in their tracks and jerk his head back towards the shop’s interior. His eyes narrowed for a few seconds then quickly returned to normal as someone else walked towards them only to extend their arms to hand Charles something. By this time Killian wanted to tell them to back the hell up so he could get everyone home already but then decided against it once more. After all they were at a disadvantage and unknown turf. A rather deadly combination for those whom no longer valued their own lives. Best to keep quiet until the need arose. When he felt Charles ushering him forwards the man just nodded and helped the guy to his car and then gently placed him inside. Once everyone was inside the human drove them all back to the house.

---

Day two: morning (starting when no one else is awake) | Location: Charles’ house

Killian sighed as sleep had alluded him once again. For once his instinct were at attention and not in a good way. Every person whom shifted inside their bed caused the man to lift off the makeshift bed in Charles’ room to just see if there wasn't an intruder. Once the house was throughly searched, and the damn golems were satisfied that the man wasn't attempting to sneak out if the house, was his nerves able to relax. How long had it been since the young man felt uneasy? Was it when Flipside took over the Dragons and began changing everything? Or was it after the night he had lost friends? Honestly the guy wasn't quiet sure. After all losing someone you were close to had proven to be a challenge in itself.

A low chiming sound from his cellphone caused his attention to change. His hand reached outwards and grasped the item as a yawn escaped his lips. The human slowly awoken the thing from its slumber, gaining a bright light in his face, which didn't help lighten his already grim mood in the least. The words Lady Luck showed on the screen causing a unhelped smile to form on his face. Maxine McGarth always seemed to know when Killian need something off the black market and for once she would have a very long list of things.

” Hey there Lady. I've missed your calls.” He knew every woman had a fire hidden beneath their charm and Maxine wasn't any different. Though for being a small Irish woman she always did seem to have much more bite than bark. Something which in his opinion woman should show more of. Than again the woman did come out of a rather abusive relationship way before she had decided to become a black market deal for his gang. One of the many people the man had came to trust completely.

”Aye love. I've missed you too. I heard that you and Dice managed to harm Flipside’s little side business a few years back. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind telling me about it someday Kill? Maybe over some drinks per say.” The text made his eyebrow raise upwards.

”Now where did you he hear that one from? What let me guess from the man himself over some Scottish whiskey perhaps.”

”That man does love his whiskey and yes. The slip of the tongue isn't much of an exaggeration. Please don't blame the old man Kill. My name is Lady Luck after all.” the man groaned as his fingers rubbed temples.

”Don't worry love. I'm not made at Dice just a bit… Upset. I was trying to make sure you both wouldn't be caught by Flip. Then again so far I've been a real thorn in his side. I'm just worried that I'll bring them here.”

”I know love. I need your list today. That way I can go shopping tomorrow. Oh. Seems the dragons have a new drug out on the streets so please be careful.” The man sighed as he made a mental note. Flipside was becoming a thorn on his side everyday and new with him beginning to push out brand new drugs out on the streets things would be much more difficult. Then again the guy was trying to get rid of the older members just to reform their image. Something which would start causing trouble for everyone.

”Yeah. I'll be careful. Right now I need more thread and needles, antibiotics, and anything else you think I'll need for the future.”

”Different drop zone?”

”Yes. Have to go.” Killian texted her ask he started towards his old room. He knew Azulia needed a room to sleep in and since it was easier to quickly clear his room than Charles’ the man had placed her inside. The guy gently knocked on the door, waited for a few minutes, and then opened the door. He called inside telling her that it was time for breakfeast and listened closely. When the woman seemed to have shifted from her bed he shut the door closed and headed for the kitchen. The man opened the fridge and took out the eggs. The guy started making breakfeast for a few minutes just as Charles walked inside. The teacher would be greeted by the dark blue dragon in an infinity symbol, hovering over a white rose, with rain hitting both of the objects.

Day 2- Morning
Location-Charles house

---

---

Hearing a door knock, she groaned a little and shifted in the bed she was laying in. Wait a bed? Azulia sat up and looked around. When did she get here? The last thing she remembered was sitting down in a chair in some place and then she passing out. Noticing she was still dressed in her dress from yesterday she looked around for her bags and spotted it in the closet. She stumbled out of bed. Groaning more, she finally made it to the closet and opened her large suitcase up.

”Hmm what to wear. Man, I am a mess” she muttered as she went through her clothes. She finally found an ideal outfit to wear and brought it out. She stripped herself of her dress and under garments and redressed in fresh clothing.

She brushed her her hair and looked at the blonde locks. Seeing the familiar locks made her sad. It was still hard for her to believe that just a week and a day ago her mother was still alive and now she wasn't going to be coming back at all. No more hugs and kisses at night or in the morning, no more movie binges or spring cleanings. Those moments would never happen again.

Feeling the familiar sensation of salt attacking her eyes, she blinked them away. She couldn't cry, not now because crying meant that she was ready to let go, but she wasn't ready. No not until she read the letter that she had in her possession. After she read the letter, then she would let the tears out. Once she was ready to come out, she stood and grabbed the two envelopes from the other bag and walked out of the room.

Hearing noises coming from a direction, she followed it and saw the familiar figure of Killian in the kitchen. Blinking, her eyes went to the tattoo that was standing out clear as day. She had no idea he had a tattoo, then again, she wasn't much in the mood for small talk yesterday. Finding a seat nearby, she sat down, keeping the envelopes on her lap, she watched him for a few seconds before saying something.

”Morning Killian””She said, still a little tired, but more energized than she felt all week.

---

Charles stumbled. Promptly his leg smacked the hallway bench as his lips uttered out in a protesting grumble, giving his location away to Azulia and Killian. He hissed in frustration while he lowered himself upon the hallway’s dual seat bench and hunched over to roll his pant leg up. The stinging flesh shocked his uncooperative mind into awareness, the most unpleasant fashion in his opinion. His bleary eyes noted the discolored bruising on his pale skin. He frowned then gave another curse under his breath before he shoved down his pant leg and used the entrance arch to lift himself upright.

He stood to lean upon the elegant archway, to top shaped in a half oval and two stained glass windows on either side, and stared briefly at Azulia. The half Prae seemed to patiently been waiting for something. Charles tried to recall whatever memory tried to stir, but had little luck in his present condition and shrugged it off for the moment. Lazily he dragged his feet toward the kitchen’s wooden door then vanished through it. It swung back and forth in his wake, his shoes softly squeaked across the black and white patterned linoleum deeper into the kitchen.

The warm scent of food washed over him and his mind swam to the surface, breaking for a moment. Immediately his attention turned to the counters and he stepped quickly toward it, grinding to a stop at the edge. His hand reached to the mugs dangling underneath the cabinets, a well worn one snagged then placed on the on the treated wood top.

He then slid over a strange, tin box with a domed top and hand crank poked from the center of it. Someone that had enjoyed coffee during the eighteenth century would’ve recognized the device to be one of the earliest known coffee grinders.

Charles’ hand snapped half the dome to the side, revealing an opening, then peered inside. Evidence of black power determined Killian had already started the process, his eyes shifted to determine the powder’s location. The glass container he usually filled had been topped off causing him to push the grinder away. Causally he inched his way toward the caste iron stove, mixed between modern and victorian design, and took a oven mitten sitting nearby. He reached for the boiling pitcher and removed the top, noting the coffee had been fixed correctly. Wordlessly, the professor poured the thick, tar substance into his mug. He followed it up with honey and cinnamon to add a little flavor.

While he took his first real sip, he propped his rear back on the counter edge. The favors complimented each other in Charles’ taste causing him to lightly smile and take a deeper drink. Heat scorched the tongue’s top before the liquid disappeared down his, a warmth in its wake and spread throughout his system. His peripheral vision noted the plate of semi-warm toast in arm’s reach then slipped back to spy Killian still busy at the stove.

Charles pushed off the counter. He then fell into a crouching position to retrieve the tray in the narrow cabinet nearby. The metal rattled when he pulled it out and set it upon the table, his attention looked for additional items: his own mug, an empty one, the coffee jar, an additional small mason jar of homemade cocoa mix, and the pitcher from the stove. Before Killian could notice or protest, Charles snagged the toast plate on his way back into the dining room.

He used his back to push the door open once more and spoke to Azulia, “Killian will be bring out the eggs and bacon shortly. I figure you might be hungry enough to at least snack until then. Pardon, but I know we have business and my mind is still a little hazy from last night’s stress. I hope you like hot cocoa. If not, there’s coffee as well with honey and cinnamon.”

The immortal then gestured for her begin ahead of him after he set the tray between them.

---

“Good morning Azulia.” The man said as he shifted the eggs inside the pan. His mouth opened, as if to say something, until they both heard a bang followed by Charles’ voice grumbling something. The former gangster sighed and shook his head. “I see that someone is having a bad day.” He mumbled to himself.

The guy slowly turned the bacon as a yawn worked out of his throat. He stretched his arms above his head in attempt to help lessen the stiffness inside his muscles. The human made a mental note to call his old tattooist after asking Charles to remove the whole ink set. Something which made his body tense up. How long had it been since the first tattoo was done? How long had it been since the young man added the rose and rain to the gang tattoo? Years? Day? Months? In truth Killian had lost count during the time the professor had taken him under his wing. Granted that they're time was slowly creeping to an end due to the teacher’s new responsibility being inside the house now. Yes, it wasn't the young woman’s fault or even his best friend’s fault. In the back of his mind the African American truly wished that this day would have never come but it was time to look for a new home. One which he could call his own.

The young man’s eyes shifted towards the door and noted Charles dragging his feet. This was fairly unusual for the man making curiosity claw at Killian’s mind for more details. Though the injury healing by the time they had gotten home had caught him by surprise. Then again this was Charles and weird seemed to be the main constancy in his life. The human stirred the eggs once again before grabbing three plates out of the cabinet. As much as he loved some of the antiques inside the house, though at times the man wanted to chuck that damn coffee grounder into a pawnshop and be done with the blasted thing forever, some more modern items would have been appreciated. Granted this action would cost the life span of his already limited money and paints.

His eyes flickered towards the right when something moved in the corner of his eyesight. The guy’s lips curled into a small smile while the oldest of the three took the tray and exited the kitchen. Most times he would have went back inside the other room and took the tray back but considering that they had another mouth to feed it was best the other two started eating now. The guy turned off the heat from the stove and began to clean his mess. It didn't seem to take long thankfully so the human began plating their food and then brought two of them out.

"It's nothing fancy but it's food. Charles when you and Azulia are done may I ask for your help removing my tattoo?” He asked while placing the plates down.

---

The Abyss.

It was adapt name for Ominar’s old, underground sewer that laid on top of the very city’s fountain. Nowadays it housed criminals and those abandoned by society, most Licentia kin chased down into it's depths by the Prae’s relentless prejudice and fear they might vanish in the night. Numerous hovels collected over the last year and half creating ghetto areas where everyone scraped by in filth and desperation together. Here the strongest survived and if you weren’t careful than you often became a corpse in some unknown gutter.

Things had become rather crowded within the last few months as individuals, from Licentia to humans, had edged their way deeper into the wounding underbelly left to fester and rot on its own. Secret and filth became the alternative to prison, a fact many loathed to their core under the Prae’s ruling, the system weaving itself through the concrete to nearly anywhere in Ominar. This made tracking their numbers difficult since navigation was a hassle without advance technology or magical assistance.

Even for the Prae.

Deep in an unexplored tunnel, one of many, three individuals causally strolled through an old subway tunnel. Their feet walked along the tracks voided of any electrical energy that once filled it. The slum activity faded behind them the farther they wandered as a single humanoid fox lead the pair of humans deeper. Darius lifted the flashlight and waved over the scene, chasing away the shadows back into their isolated corners. Water drip mingled with each footstep that echoed off the metal walls in the tight confinements, the only life beside them were the scritching and scratching claws of several rats.

Afua, Darius’ employed necromancer, idly stroked the half decayed rat riding her shoulder. The dangling flesh left a slimy trail she didn’t bother to notice while her eyes darted into the shadows. Each time the torch passed in her vision, only the reflective lights of rat’s eyes glowed back at them. She smiled at the display and reached up to trace the ridged corpse’s back of her little pet a little more. While Afua and Darius verbally didn’t protest over the conditions, Boris had no trouble bitching about it.

“What are we doing here?” The Russian mage asked, his tone echoed briefly off the walls causing Darius’ head to snap toward the rear.

He grinded to a pause while his expression became cross at the impatient and rather low intelligent goon. His flashlight faced forward, Darius had been about to reply when Afua beat him to the quick.

“You be a mighty edgy like a rat trapped in a dark place, bru,” her tone was light and teasing, through her eyes gleamed with intention to provoke. Her hand lowered to her necklace, her Focus, before giving an idle hum from her native country of Africa. She had migrated over a year ago and her accent had retained its thickness in her roots, sometimes making it difficult to understand, “We be in here to find Krysta, Darius’ little thorn in his paw. Be not that right, baas?”

“Yes,” Darius commented, his eyes returned to tunnel’s end as they drew nearer, “According to the information of one of her friends, I believe she’s having a slight meeting to rally an attack on one of my casinos. I can’t condone that or allow it.”

Boris just snorted, his thick arms crossed over his chest, and followed in the fox’s wake. They walked in silence for a bit longer until they reached a large, roomy cavern of the train tunnel. Darius gestured for the pair to come to a stop as they drew a confused look at each other. Cautiously, he pointed to his ear that flicked with the sounds of the surface, muffled slightly, ringing in his attention before he made a request of Afua.

“She is close. Afua, would you so kindly send your little pets to flush them out?”

Afua smirked and crouched down, her arm reached out to allow her pet to step down onto the floor. Gradually her stachel at her waist wiggled furious as she opened the flap and in moments twenty cobbled together rats swarmed out into the sewer’s floor. Their partly decayed features, all in different stages, twitched and sniffed then became abruptly still. Grasping her Focus, Afua poured her Vis through it to make her orders clear.

“Now, my little ones. Fan out and search every little crevice for our little guests, if any resist then kill them,” with those last words, she waved her hand for them to scatter into the darkness. Her dreadlocked head, bunched into a ponytail, turned to Darius at the task being done, “It will take a few minutes and if anyone is within my area, they will be flushed out or killed. Satisfactory, baas?”

Darius nodded his approval then silence washed over them. Everything seemed to go back to normal with the water continued to drop in a steady beat and faint sounds of traffic above, the flashlight the only light peering through the shadows in the underground. Idly Darius’ yellow eyes slid from the right to the left to absorb any unsettling hints to an ambush. Gun fire broke out in the untouched darkness drawing a smirk from the fox’s muzzle and his attention turned over his shoulder when he made his orders.

“Afua, Boris let’s go now,” Darius barked. His right foot shot forward and immediately his paw flipped the light off in one motion, pocketing it. Underneath him, his shadow warped and twisted like a living thing. It jerked along his leg up to his arm then into his hand. The quivering and excited mass extended from his rib side into the outline of another arm. In its grip was a sharp, dangerous katana designed to slice through a body easily. Meanwhile his actual fingers reached into his holster then tightened about the handle of his glock. He drew into his real hands and looked for a target immediately.

Voices became clearer the closer they got as figures, illuminated by a dim glow light, came into view.

“You’re such an over sized baby, Rufus. It’s just a rat like I said,” came a female voice, mocking her companion.

“Easy for you to say, the damn thing didn’t bite you. And look, it brought filthy friends.”

A female redhead, dressed in a duster and baggy pants hunched over Afua’s deceased pets. A disgusting, thick pile of about ten to fifteen rats were riddled with bullets. Their patch quilt bodies were easily blown to pieces then scattered across the shit covered ground.

Picking one of the corpses up the tail with her gloved hand, Angela Reeds then continued, “Looks like it’s actually been dead for some time. I wonder what made it move about on its own?”

“Does it fucking matter?” Rufus snapped, the thicker giant like human shifted to retreat deeper into the tunnel, “Come on all already, Krysta will not be happy to be kept waiting.”

“Yeah, yeah don’t get your boxers in a knot. I’m commin’.”

“I think you’ll be making her wait a little bit longer,” came Darius’ voice slithering from the darkness and emerged into the dim light. The katana held in an extra set of arms that extended enough to prevent crippling his gun hand that rotated the glock to face the pair.

Angela grinned a wickedly dangerous one, “Well, shit looks the boss and his lackeys decided to pay us a visit. Krysta won’t like this in the least, but if we kill you before she knows then all will be forgiven.”

Her brown eyes turned to Rufus to retort to his earlier comment, “Still don’t think it matters now genius?”

Without another word, her hand whipped out a an FNP handgun. The muzzle flashed when the bullet exited the muzzle and darted the Kitsune as Boris reacted. The Russian man lifted his hand, the wristband on his thick hand and hidden under his jacket, glowed with a lifting gesture of his hand. A rumble then the metal screeched up to erect a wall in the way. The bullet pinged then rocketed to the side where it embedded into the wall causing the woman to frown in disappointment.

“Fucking metal mage,” her hand jerked to the side to take out Afua.

The illusion smiled when the bullets hit air, the image vanishing into thin air. Meanwhile, the necromancer hadn’t been lazy while she focused her Vis into a fist size gem and brought it into a bright glow, illuminating the tunnel in deep red. A decaying and patchwork beast materialized when its Vis, stored within the device, as she reached down to give it ‘life’ from her own magic. It wasn’t true life but an extent of her own. Binding the creature to her own Anima through a Vis string, she fed it energy and an understanding that it lived solely to serve her. An ancient magic, it had been rarely practiced by the public and in her hands it was a dangerous magic.

Bones and muscles were a mixture of a canine and tigerlike features, the corpse rose upright onto its feet.

A pair of purple irises emerged from the darkness, observing the exchange in silence as a violent confrontation is about to begin. A humanoid silhouette attached to those eyes steps forth, quite casually despite the current situation. It’s steady steps echoing the abandoned train tunnel with the clacks of expensive dress shoes.

To Darius, the face behind the silhouette, and the striking purple eyes were recognisable. He had seen it many times in the media, and it only became clearer as the man stepped into the dull red light of Afua’s crystal. The hell was a man like him doing in a place like this?

“Now, now…” The voice was smooth as silk, yet held an aura of intimidation and judgement over the two parties as the eyes looked upon Darius and his crew first, and then turning to Angela last. “I’m sure your little squabbles can be solved in a less violent manner. The last thing I want to see is such potential wasted on either side. So how about we all have a little chat, hmm?”
Angela laughed. Her sound echoed off the wall as she faded it into a smirk, her eyes twinkled in a murderous streak at the newcomer then flipped over to Darius, “Friend of yours? If I had known a few failed assassin attempts would’ve gotten your attention so easily then I would’ve done it ages ago.”

Her gun twitched, the only warning, when she jerked it up to fire at Darius.

The gun went off, the bullet leaving the barrel seemingly in slow motion as the necromancer and the mage attempted to react, but they would be too slow regardless, and if not stopped, the bullet would penetrate Darius’ skull. Though the bullet didn’t even get to travel very far.

As soon as Angela blinked, she heard the sound of ruffling clothes, and as her eyes opened again, the bang of the bullet bouncing around the tunnels walls, the unknown man stood before her, his pose relaxed with a fist placed just before the barrel of her gun. A metal wall rose behind him in the distance where Darius stood, and the undead creature under the necromancer’s employ reeled back at the sudden change of the man’s position.

His eyes stared intensely into Angela’s, as his fist opened into a palm, to reveal the crushed bit of lead gently resting on the skin of his hand. “Two…” The man muttered under his breath. Counting something in his mind. “Are you sure you do not wish to talk… Angela?” The man uttered her name. How the fuck did he know?

Darius watched the fear seep into the woman, her hand trembling as she reached for another weapon on instinct. The Kitsune doubted she would get very far. He barely blinked or moved, a fact because he didn’t need to since he had once witnessed this particular man’s combative skill personally. A test to ensure he wasn’t easy to kill should the Prae wanted to overcome an obstruction in their way and try to make him ‘vanish’ was needed before the contract had been signed.

His golden eyes looked to a shock Boris and Afua, both rattled by the speed, then made his comment, “Counting down to when your patience wears down, Mr. Crowley? Boris, Afua would you be kind enough to put your toys away for the moment? I believe our unexpected guest has everything in hand.”

With that, he let his black katana and arms dissolve back into the dark shadow at his feet then suck right into him. His other hand holstered his glock to prevent any misfire, despite the odd look both employees gave him. Grudgingly, Boris spat then cursed under his breath in Russian before placing his Focus away. Afua, idly, petted her frankenstein creation then hunched over to place it back into the gem with a bright light. The immediate call out then return had taken a lot of Vis that would quickly replenish if she didn’t use anymore magic for the time being.

Angela, who’s nervousness grew, tightened her finger on her trigger held in the man’s hand. Her eyes looked rattled and wild as Rufus debated on his next move. The half Licenti had been surprisingly quiet during the whole outbreak of conflict. On closer look, his skin gave off a rocky coloring showing his magical talents. He was part rock giant and that meant strength, durability and height were his advantage. It explained his form being about seven foot tall compared to the others within the tunnel.

“Angela, I think we should leave now.”

“I’m not done with this bastard-”

“Do you talk to your mother with that mouth, Angela, let alone your employers?”
“I cut ties with my family a long time ago. I enjoyed putting a bullet through someone’s head a bit too much and she thought something was wrong with me. As for Kystra, she condones it,” Angela scoffed, her finger tightened a bit more. Another bullet slide in the chamber and her adrenaline filled her veins, the idea of killing something that might provide a challenge made her grin widen even when the fear tried to drown it out.

“Angela…” Rufus cautioned, his half giant figure began to approach.

“And what if I tell you that there are better places to kill than in a train tunnel, or crawling through sewers for a low life criminal. Better pay, lifestyle, and challenging targets… hmm?” The man’s gaze turned to the stone ogre. “And what about you? Is this really worth the money Kystra is paying you? I’m sure you’re talents could be used wisely.”

“Money doesn’t concern me, you can keep it. It’s the thrill and bragging rights to killing someone that is impossible or view to be beyond it. The idea of being on the edge of a blade where your own life might be cut short or rise beyond the human limits is an experience I can’t get enough of. That’s all that matters to me and Kystra is the fastest way I can get it,” Angela answered as her eyes turned to Rufus, noting his feet come to a halt.

Her ally’s blue eyes studied the faster than the naked eye being before him, then absorbed what was said, “It’s not the thrill or money I’m interested in. People I loved have gone missing and I know friends that have suffered a similar loss. It’s to prevent that hurt and learn why is my reason. I don’t expect you to understand it,. Kystra’s right that Mr. Cain is going too slow on overcoming the Prae control and that something I want to change.”

Rufus inhaled, “Even if we have to rip the Fox and his organization apart to do it, leaving everything in ashes.”

“You will destroy Ominar and the good people in it. Doing the very thing you are trying to prevent. But there are other ways… Ones that will prevent more casualties.” He looked back at Angela. “If challenge is what you seek, then I can easily provide it. The only thing Kystra can provide is merely momentary satisfaction. That adrenaline rush… your endless thirst for combat. You are the wolf that I seek.”

“And you, Rufus, your heart is in the right place, yet I can see that you doubt yourself, doubt the path you're taking.” He paused for a moment, reaching into his elegant trench coat to pull out a pair of business cards. “I think it’s time for both of you to leave. But please, consider my offer. Feel free to give a call at anytime.” He placed a business card on top of Angela’s gun perfectly, and handed the other to Rufus.

On the card it stated:

Logan Crowley - CEO
Armax Innovations and Investments International
0-805-564-5897

Angela recognised the name. AIII was the proprietary owner of a renowned private military company, Armax Security. Their mercs are the best in the business, and see constant action around the world. While Rufus, recognised them for Aegis Real Estate Interdimensional. A massive real estate company that also does charity work by providing Licenti refugees with free homes on Medius.

Rufus narrowed his eyes at Logan, his height advantage caused him to lower himself in order to look into Logan’s, “I don’t know how a mafia boss could do anything to ensure law and order. He’s nothing more than a parasite feeding off the helpless and desperate to gain a foothold over them. It’s disgusting and I can’t see how any good comes from it.”

His head lifted upright and straightened up to continue, “I think I’ll stick with Kystra. At least she’s not willing to work with the Fox.”

Angela, on the other hand, had been brushing her thoughts over the card. Her face debated on the opportunity to take on things like Logan or even get a lucky shot into the back of the man’s head. Another smile crossed her lips when she replied, surprising even Rufus, “Why not? Kystra has kept me on a short leash since I tried to kill ol’ Foxy over there and I’m still twitching to end him.”

The man nodded to Angela. “Good. Then we shall meet later today to speak terms. And as itchy as your trigger finger is, you will get to scratch it very soon. Go along now, get yourself refreshed, and rearmed with something...” He inspected her handgun, and seemed a little disappointed. “...with more punch. Wanna make yourself presentable for the interview.”

Angela raised her eyebrow, “Easier said than done. I’m not exactly made of money and not many are willing to add more punch to a powder keg.”

“Then here is an advance.” The man handed her what appeared to be a Credit Chit, with more than enough cash to set her up with some serious hardware.

Rufus gave Logan a look that asked if he was really willing to set fire to all of Ominar until the man moved.

He stepped past her towards Rufus, and clasped him by the shoulder to walk him over out of earshot of Darius. His strength was surprising, capable of dragging Rufus over even if he attempted to resist, “Now, Rufus. Me and the Kitsune have a small agreement. But it does not mean we are allies. You see, when he dies, I take all of his properties, preventing the Prae from taking over that little district. He is playing the long game, while I am playing a more… forceful one, though discrete. While I haven’t got anything against the people of Priscus, I do have a lot against their leaders. They are the problem here, and I seek to resolve that particular issue as quickly, and as quietly as possible. And the reasons for that are quite obvious, don’t you think?”

“Aye, but the fox is poison and what happens after you get the Prae out?” Rufus asked, his eyes assessing the reaction to his question and sought to determine his would be answer.

“We avoid war. The criminal underworld can keep it in shit holes like this,” He gestures to the tunnel they were in. “while the surface and the hard working prosper. Even if Darius is a rotten apple, he is sadly needed. He keeps other like him check. And we don’t want more individuals like him. Better to have only one, than several.”

Rufus huff at the thought, his head twisted at the fox who idly stood there. His vision heated in hot, burning hatred and blame before trying to argue farther, “And who do you think makes them in the first place?”

“Think about it realistically” Logan began. “People come from all kinds of lives, parents, childhoods. But we all know that this stems from desperation and poverty. You know the slums, right? Desperate people, just trying to survive, from the crime, and the OCPD raids. That desperation leads them to work for people like him. I plan to eliminate that desperation, that poverty. With that out of the way, crime dwindles, and dies. When you live in comfort, what reason do you have to commit atrocities?”

Rufus inhaled, “Fine, we’ll see where your path leads but do me one favor. Don’t let Darius outlive his usefulness. When he is no longer doing whatever the shit you want him to or steps out of line, don’t let him get away with it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. His time is short regardless. Now go get yourself some sleep. You could use it…” He the Licenti go, and watched him hesitantly leave, looking back at Darius with a glare of hatred.

With both now former agents of Kystra gone, Logan casually strolled over to Darius and his people, his dress shoes clicking against the cold ground. “Darius… attempting clean up your mess, I see.”

“If I didn’t, would you think I would’ve lasted this long? After all, while I might thrive in chaos… it brings unsettling memories best avoided,” He waved off both Afua and Boris, sending them to walk back to the exit where they stood alert and nervous, “From that look Rufus gave me, I take it you make it clear our truce was temporary and likely something else in regards to my life? He wouldn’t go so easily unless he knew I would be killed at some point.”

“Everybody dies eventually Darius. We all do. Whatever the circumstances may be.” Logan pause to regard the fox for a moment before continuing. “Being part owner means that I have to worry about every little detail. It’s my job to do so. You could have told me you were having some issues, they would have been resolved quickly.”

“Not everyone is that patient and Kitsune aren’t known for their short, natural life spans. I’m not very happy with how far I let things get, but I’ve been distracted with news of an old friend in town. I’m currently waiting for him to pay a visit,” Darius spoke, leaving out the identity. His paws fitted themselves into his pockets and hung there loosely in a calm manner even with the conversation leaning on death, “Now what do you intend on doing?”

“Well, I would like to fix your problem, but since my business partner is being a little uncooperative, I guess I will leave him to it.” Logan stated. “You have a free path to Kystra now, the rest is up to you. Keep in mind that I will be watching very closely. I’m interested to see how this all turns out. Good Luck, Darius. Hope you can broker some sort of resolution without causing another mess.”

With that, The Director of AIII walked away towards the exit behind Darius, leaving him to listen to the man’s footsteps and think on his words carefully.

Day 2- Morning
Location-Charles house

---

---

Azulia acknowledged Killian as she fingered the letters. She looked up as her new guardian, if he didn't know that he was, stumble into the room and she kept quiet. She didn't want to push it. She fingered the letter, the nervous feeling coming to her. She looked at the table cloth that cover, eyes following the beautiful gold designs that were stitched carefully into the light purple fabric. She always loved the mixture of purple and gold. Her fingers went from the letters to trace the design, loving the slightly rough texture of the gold brought to her flesh and the way it contrasted to the smooth texture of purple.

She jumped from her trace when she saw Charles place a placed a plate of toast in front of her beside her hand. She looked up at his face, the nervous feeling that had vanished when she was explore the table cloth came back at once. She listened as he spoke to her for the first time and managed to get out.

"U um yes. Thank you sir" She picked up a piece of toast and began to ate it. She used a free hand to move the small and big evenlopes to the table so no crumbs could touch them. AS she finished her one peice of toast, she saw Killian walk in with eggs and bacon.She heard his words and tilted her head.

"You have a tattoo?" She asked.

---

Breakfast ended without further incident, the drama of Azulia’s letter set aside, as Charles and Killian cleaned up the food remains. Shortly afterwards the dishes were washed, rinsed, then placed back in their respective places. He indicated for Killian to take a seat within one of the nearby chairs and vanished from the dining room into his bedroom. Upon entering, he moved toward the end of his bed and bent down on one knee as he unlocked the truck at the foot of his bed and then rummaged through it. His hand began to move several smaller boxes, about fourteen total, filled in various degrees, during his search for a specific date. A piece of paper held a list of what box held, organized by every hundred years or so. Upon finding the date, he removed the box and looked in. Each multiple layered drawer was further divided into type, spell, skill, and memory.

The overall system, while detailed, was simple for Charles to recall exactly where each important event in his life had happened. To any random witness or Killian, they looked like a randomized number series with a hidden pattern. Without the knowledge of the code, it would take years for an individual to figure it out and on top of that how to ‘shatter’ the memory in order to use the information within it. This provided Charles with great comfort over the fact his secrets would be safe.

A moment later, he found the ink manipulation magic and placed it at the moment onto his dresser. He wasn’t fully done looking through the chest as he scrambled for an additional spell, the disort one, then gently closed the box’s lid and set it back within the dresser’s confinements. Making his way back to the kitchen, Charles took the bead then broke it and began to work on Killian. He traced the bare skin of the darker man, collecting the ink imprints, before he gesture it into a black stained cup. The professor repeated until the the blacken material sloshed and filled it to about one-fourth. Finished up, Charles snatched the cup and walked into the kitchen in order to pour it down the sink. Rinsing the thing out, he returned to inform them it was ideal to get ready to head to the college so they could register Azulia, Killian could learn and he could work.

He placed the distort bead on his bracelet, then prepared his pop quiz and additional papers for the afternoon class’ lecture. Luckily it would be his only class for the day before he had to contact Mr. Cain over having Lilith transferred into another city’s care. When he entered the hallway, the two were already to go causing him to smile faintly. The trio packed into the car and drove to the College.

A few odd students stared at him, Killian and the girl that followed them into the administrator’s office. When they finally went through the paperwork, reviewed what classes she would take, and additional loops from the educational system, Charles thought his hand would likely fall off. His mood was soured more when he learned that until her manuscripts were transferred over from America, she couldn’t officially start classes. This process would take a few days. This forced Charles to make a few calls then arrange for his neighbor, Mrs. Angela, to pick up Azulia and babysit her for the day.

Through unhappy, the elderly woman agreed on the arrangement she would be paid by the hour. Naturally having no choice, Charles agreed and sent them both on their way. While he watched them leave, he made a mental note to go clothes shopping later. However he had no idea what the fashions were or what was suitable for a child of her age in this era. He began to gradually miss the cote, chemise, corroie, and sollars compared to the odd fashions they sported now a days that seemed make sure modesty went out of trend.



Charles arrived at room 206 earlier than needed.

His eyes picked up the sight of Ms. Lawrence bending down to retrieve a pencil, dressed in a long dress skirt and a long sleeve sweater. Her long, straight blond hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail where it rested between her shoulders. Clearing his throat, Charles stepped politely into view while he waited for the woman to realise where he was at. Her blue eyes shot over her shoulder and surprise fell over her expression, “Charles, why so early?”

“I was hoping to get things ready for my Basic Education class before my other students arrived. Don’t you usually have the older students, particularly the college ones, help you with cleaning up?” Charles asked as he moved toward one of the tables covered in laptops still open, but screen turned off.

“Jillian had to leave early to pick up her younger sister from pre-k, and I couldn’t contact any of my other helpers. So I had to do it myself. You’re more than welcome to set things up if you don’t mind helping me clean up the mess. I keep forgetting how unorganized fourth graders can be at this age,” she gently chuckled then gave him an encouraging gesture to begin.

Ms. Lawrence began to then clear away the rented laptops and other supplies provided by the College, reminding him of how the educational program worked in the modern era. Instead of students all being within one set classroom, they were divided by their ages and differences in curriculum now. Sometimes, as in the case with College and younger students, they were literally separated by a building which made ZUMA unique because it housed ages from early as nine to higher. This was purely due to the fact some humans were naturally born with magic and when it activated, the average activated around puberty. Any individual that developed it earlier were often rare and rather than designate a specific class schedule, a teacher was assigned to privately tutor them in a specialized room. One made to resist magical and physical damage.

With their combined efforts, Charles and Ms. Lawrence had finally cleared the crescent tables facing the only wooden desk in the room. Each laptop was placed on the rolling cart and pushed out by the female teacher, thanking him once more while he clicked shut the closet at the back. He walked past the small projector and toward his desk. He paused and bent down, his hand pulled out the numerous papers from his suit case before he then placed them one by one upon each student’s seat. It was the best way to get their attention since when they sat down, it would be hard to ignore the crinkling of it.

It was a simple pop quiz over the modern magic regulating laws within Ominar. They merely had to name them at least and what they protected against. He was nearly through placing the papers when his eyes turned to the sound of students casually walking into the room.

She'd been in this hotel for two weeks now. She liked that she didn't have to make her own bed if she didn't want to, she liked that she didn't have to do her own laundry, or housework, she liked that they'd bring her food to her room even at three in the morning. But she was also missing the comforts of not having to put a sign on the door when she wanted to dwell in the dark, soft, cushy comfort of the bed and not get up to see anyone at all while existing in the exquisite bliss of her high. In her own apartment, she could schedule most of those things that she enjoyed about this hotel. But that would mean needing to go out.

And she needed to anyways, for things aside from finding a place to live. She needed to actually go and see her new place of business that she'd bought a month ago, even before she'd official decided that she was going to be moving here as a more permanent fix to her problems. And she was without Vlad or Sergei and she felt very lonely too. She'd never even so much as travelled without one or both of them with her. And now she was here, where she was planning on living for a while, without either of them.

At least she knew someone in this city. Sorta. She’d met him only through her father, and while they’d had some fancinstaing conversations, she’d not really call them friends or anything like that. Hopefully though, that would change. Whenever she could get into contact with him and set up a time to meet. Because she was going to need his help to really get things going for her.

So after digging through a few of her suitcases that have been half unpacked to find the things she was looking for, she dressed, took a nice healthy swig of something that burned like alcohol though she wasn’t fully certain what it was exactly, straight from the bottle and headed out to her meeting with a realtor to find herself a place to stay. She looked a hot mess though, her hair in a messy bun, her clothes a tiny bit wrinkled and less put together than she normally was, but just then, she didn’t care. She toured a few places and eventually decided on a nice place that hopefully would be enough space for her and all her books and records and such. Though honestly she’d left a lot of her stuff at home, hoping that her brother would keep things safe for her.

With a tired sigh, she headed down the road to a coffee shop only about a block away from her new place of residence, to get some caffeine in her system and check her email to see if there was anything of importance in there since she'd not bothered to take a look through it in a few days. She was sure she had thousands of things by now that she should reply to. And the nagging guilt was something she didn't want to deal with when she went out that night to find some company.

Sitting with her feet up under her on a big cushy chair that made her look very tiny in it, she scrolled through her mail on her little tablet, earbuds in and music blasting away. She had been right, there was a thousand emails waiting for her, most of it junk, which she was working on deleting first. Then after work and personal were sorted through she went through what was actually important and what wasn't. As she was finishing up, there was a little ding as she got a new email with no subject from her brother.

“Hey Little Sparrow,

Hope you've got a place sorted out by now. Might have some good news for you soon. Or you might already know. Call me at some point please.

Love you,

Vlad.”

Pushing her glasses up into hair with a sigh, she rubbed at her eyes some. “Not tonight, brother,” she murmured to herself. “Maybe in the morning. Depending on how things go tonight.”

Masha made her way back to her hotel room, bathed and got herself dressed for the night. She dug through her clothes again to find something that she felt suited her mood. Or at least the mood she wanted to be in. The black velvet dress clung to the curves she did have, emphasizing them very nicely. Draping her neck with a single deep garnet teardrop on a long chain that hung just through her cleavage, she finished brushing through her mostly dry hair and headed out of the door for the club of the night. Or at least the first one of the night.

The place was dark, a little smoky, and partly filled with middle aged business men. It was her usual preference, businessmen optional, but they weren't always her usual takers. She sauntered up to the bar, perching herself on a stool that overlooked most of the other patrons of the bar, and after a brief argument with the bartender about the validity of her ID, she sipped at her drink. She hadn't been fully sober when she'd walked into the place, but she wasn't totally out of it either. Just enough of a buzz to help with the buzzing in her head that the coffee hadn't cured.

She twisted the chain of her necklace around her finger some as she watched the people in the bar. There were a few promising men around, looking her way even. One of them got up the nerve to come over to her, sitting down on the stool next to her with an obviously drunk smile on his face. He walked well enough, he just couldn’t school his face well enough. His tie was almost fully untied, but still around his neck and through the collar of his shirt. He was maybe thirty, his clean cut brown hair was a mess from him obviously running his hands through it, making it stick up in odd places.

“Hey,” he said with a little chuckle. “Aren’t you a little young to be in here?”

“Isn’t that a terrible opening line?” she replied with a smirk.

He flushed a little at being called out like that, but that didn’t really deter him any from his pursuit. “It is, but it usually works for me. Still working now, I mean, you’re talking to me.” His grin grew at that and he laughed again.

Masha pursed her lips a little bit but still smiled. “Touche, sir,” she murmured. “You win that round. Now, lemme see, is the next round you offering to buy me a drink, or you just doing it anyways?”

He laughed and tipped his drink towards her in a toast of sorts. “The latter, I think at this point. Because I doubt you’d turn me down if I ask, so why bother with the asking?” She shrugged some and he gestured for the bartender again and got them both another round of drinks.

Which turned into another three before they moved from the bar itself to a booth in the back. She hadn’t expected to be this successful so early in the night, but it certainly made the night better to knot have to work so hard. Even if he wasn’t the most attractive man in the room, he wasn’t bad to look at, and he was actually rather interesting to talk to. Hopefully the niceness of him held out for the rest of the evening activities.

By the time she realized she was out of smokes it was rather late already. His hands had already found their way along her thighs and arms, twisting through her long hair on occasion as well. Leaning in teasingly close, she murmured “yours or mine?” with a soft little laugh.

“Don’t care,” he replied, leaning in to give her a kiss, but she pulled back before he could with a wicked smirk. “Tease.”

She shook her head slightly, sliding back from him and out of the booth. “Not a tease, just want to actually make it out of the bar before you undress me. Not that I mind anyone seeing, but you know.”

He growled in some frustration, but he understood as well. He followed her out of the booth and out of the bar. He waved down a cab and they climbed into the backseat together. Their short walk had given them enough time to figure out who’s was closer, and they headed for her hotel room. They could have walked there, but it wouldn’t have been fast enough for either of their tastes.

But it was quick enough, and they both managed to keep their clothes on at least, even if they didn’t do so well at keeping their hands to themselves. Things progressed quickly once in her room, and while it was good, it wasn’t as satisfactory as she might have liked to have been.

Since she was used to being up until the sun was up, she was still awake after he’d passed out in an alcohol clouded, physical exhaustion. Climbing out of bed, she pulled on a silk dressing gown from the floor, not because she didn’t want to be seen naked, but because it was a little chilly in the room. She curled herself up in one of the chairs that she’d dragged over to the window after opening up the curtains so she could look out over the night cloaked cityscape. She unlocked her phone and dialed up her brother’s number without thought about what time it was. Vlad was going to be awake, but he might be busy too.

“Masha,” he said after picking up on the third ring. “Awful late for you to be free.”

She snorted a little and worked a knot out of her hair with her fingers. “Yeah, well, he’s passed out.”

“So is mine,” he said with his own little laugh. “So you finally decided to check your email then?”

“No I just thought I’d call you at like 3 in the morning for shits and giggles,” she said sarcastically. “I got an apartment, by the way,” she went on before he could reply to her sarcasm. “So no need to worry there. Going into the shop tomorrow too.”

“Adulting finally,” he chuckled. “Good, because I think you’ll have to make another stop tomorrow too.” When she hummed questioningly, he went on, “I got you a business meeting. I’ll send you the details.”

“Melding again, are we big brother?” she asked.

“Only because I love you so much, little sister,” he chuckled. “Now I’d love to talk to you more, but I have early morning business to attend to so, I need to sleep. I’ll let Sergei know the news as well. Night, Little Sparrow.”

“Night, Vlad,” she murmured, hanging up and deciding to read a little before passing out in the chair.

---

“Sadly, Mr. Crowley, I would lose power and respect if I cooperated too much. That alone would lower my life expectancy in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t that be correct?” Through Darius made the statement into a question, his voice hinted toward a painful fact.

The knowledge that the usual human didn’t exactly view him to be an equal or worth keeping unless he has worth hadn’t escaped the fox’s attention. He even knew it was likely the reason that Rufus had easily retreated from Krysta’s loyalty and into Logan’s, the half giant’s gentleness wanting to end all evil and create a utopia. However, long lived individuals like himself knew better. Humanity would never survive without conflict or dark moralities namely because difference created such conflicts. Without that, they would be no different than the Prae’s united race and it seemed numerous individuals were already fighting against their ‘paradise’.

When the footfalls of the director of AIII fell silent, Darius turned to Boris and Afua. His golden eyes studied the worn out Necromancer as she tried to hide the sweat and heavy breathing on her skin. She looked terrible from the brief conflict reminding him that she was a much better at preparation than instant combat scenario which now had taken its toll on her. Sighing, he addressed her weakness in a gentle manner, “Afua, I believe you should stay here and prepare a little surprise if Boris and I need to retreat back here. You’re spent from the release and recapturing of your golem. I don’t want you risking your life in a fight when you should play to your strengths.”

“Tsk, baas, you be worrying over me too much-” Afua began only to be interrupted by Darius again.

“Yes, and humor me by staying back. I don’t have full faith that I can convince Krysta to neglect her original goal and things are much likely to get...messy. I rather have a safe pace to fall back to when that happens and I can trust you will be able to do that in the limited window I give you. It would be much easier than Boris risking himself by taking down a section of the tunnels to discourage those chasing us, risking the ones above,” Darius faced her and softened his expression at her hurt emotions peering through her usually firm mask. A single finger reached up then traced the curve of her eye, wiping the trace evidence of salty wetness, before he flicked it away, “I don’t devalue your skills, but trust me when I say work with your strengths first. Yours is preparation rather than instant combat and that’s what I need now.”

Pulling his paw like hand away, he gestured with a head nod toward the sewer’s deep end. Boris grunted and look one last look at Afua, the woman looked slightly less rejected than earlier, as she cradled her left arm in her right hand. Thinking of something to say, but decided against it, he then moved to follow Darius into the darkness again and leaving her behind.

“That damn baas knows what be needed to be said to both frustrate and compliment me,” Afua complained as she leaned down to let the last remaining rat crawl up her arm and slouch on her shoulder, “Now to get to work, my pet.”



Darkness and dripping water echoed around Darius and Boris, their figures edged deeper into the Abyss. Light began to chase away the shadows as they arrived at a large, circular room. It was made by the same tightly packed concrete stone with wall lights dimly illuminating the path along the tunnel and into the outlet. A gathering appeared to have collected within the middle while a single woman dressed in a dual sweatshirt, tight hugging shorts and boots. Along her hips was a slanted belt with several chemical agents that combined magical arts and science in ways most could only guess, a cylinder like item on her back might’ve been a sword or weapon made for melee combat. Through her sleeves hung low on her arms, her hands were covered in protective gloves made to contain and focus her magic much like a wearable focus.

Her icy colored eyes shifted to spy Boris and Darius linger at the tunnel entrance, her lips curled into a wicked smile and immediately hopped down from her makeshift platform. She hit the floor with a loud thump then began to walk through the dark mass, their heads promptly turned in eerie union toward the newcomers and studied them in silence. She easily parted through the crowd as she addressed the pair. Her cocky expression made Darius wary and his fur rose in alert, his eyes flicked through collection to realize something… odd. They seemed to all be shrouded in an unnatural darkness like a cover to hide something.

“It’s nice you could show up Mr. Cain,” Krysta’s silky smooth voice began, looking up and then down to ensure it wasn’t one of Afua’s illusions. Her arms rested on her hips while she cocked them into a casual position.

“There was a time you called me Darius, but I suppose those times are long past.”

“Hell, yes they are. You’ve been taking too slow in dealing with the Prae and many people side with me when we’re tired of waiting. We take back our city and soon. Even if we have to scrape the filth like you from the walls before we do.”

“You’ll also sacrifice hundreds of innocent people and Licentia in the process. Is the blood worth the failure?”

“So quick to look down upon us,” Krysta frowned as she stepped backwards, her figure melted into the crowd, “We’re not weak as you and we won’t fail. You’ll see and then when we’re done, you’ll fall next. Good bye Darius… Kill him and his friend.”

The black shadow creatures then all broke out into a smiles, crooked and jagged ones. Their attention fixed on Boris and Darius. Their steps were silent as they shifted to face their prey, their bodies moved together and drew closer. Darius' nose inhaled a musty, decaying odor causing him to glare at the creatures within the small area.

Sewer imp. Of all things Krysta had to gain control over, why did it have to be this filthy thing? Darius thought, his right foot stepped back into the tunnel.

Naturally Boris followed suit, his hulking figure already retreated and his arm raised to his gauntlet (his focus). They glowed as he gestured to the nearest metal railing. It screeched and crunched, moving from its anchored place, then jerked in front of the moving mass. It impaled the first ‘individual’ that launched forward. The metal pole penetrated far too easily through the torso and jerked out the other side, splattering black fluid against the wall. The single black body fell down then stilled. All the creatures paused and turned their heads, watching the corpse.

Oddly enough… despite the laws of shadow and light, the corpse was still connected by a narrow strip of darkness reaching back into the mass.

Suddenly, the black cut out figure twitched. Immediately the creature was sucked into the mass as bones cracked and joints popped, the crowd becoming a misshapen blob now. They bubbled and merged into a smoky mess. It grew larger with passing time until it nearly touched the ceiling, features gaining distinction and began to solidify into a new shape. It was called a smoke djinn in history. The top half of its torso appeared humanoid with its flat chest and narrow waist. Wafting smoke poured off its outline, breaking the outline, and adding to the intimidation factor. Upon its spine two more arms branched out then began to reach for Boris, a wicked sadistic glint in its bluish eyes flickered.

Darius growled and his ear pinned back against his skull, at the nasty looking creature that stood before them. His shadow shimmered underneath his right foot then raced up his leg, a black line, along his suit’s spine. It collected at his back, divided and raced into two additional arms once more. Part of it began to materialize into the familiar katana of earlier.

“Boris, it’s time to get out of here. NOW,” Darius snapped, the kitsune whipped his head into the Russian’s direction.

Already the large man nodded then darted for the exit. The large smoke demon reached a hand out and fisted it, intending to crush the retreating mage. With surprising agility, Darius widened his legs then shot forward. His blade didn’t glisten until it swiped at the spot where the wrist and arm connected. The smoke demon roared as black blood sprayed the ground in front of Darius. His golden eyes flickered to his shoulder and noted the few specks of blood on his clothing, drawing a spark of irritation.

The Licenti's hand, about the size of a four passenger car, toppled to the ground. Severed. It sizzled then vanished into thin air. The djinn roared in pain as it reeled backwards and slammed into the back wall. Stone crumbled into the waterways as it pushed against the destroyed wall. It was a pure miracle that the foundation held against the onslaught.

The djinn’s blue eyes turned upon Darius. Its lower half swirled and shimmered, wafting like smoke, as it glared. It made a lower growl then focused upon its ruined arm. The flesh lengthened and shifted, coming to a point at the peak. It then jabbed forward to impale Darius.

The kitsune darted to the side, his figure rolled as his right hand pulled his glock out. He took aim. It flashed once, then twice when he pulled the trigger to fire. One shot skimmed the cheek side drawing fresh blood. The other penetrated the eye, the blue glow dimmed and once more the djinn reared back.

Darius smirked at the ease of it. His grin died when an arrow penetrated his shoulder and sank in, drawing a painful howl. His golden eyes jerked to the source and revealed Krysta, her arms up and a crossbow aimed at Darius’ direction. A satisfactory smirk danced over her lips before she holstered her weapon then began to walk away.

Her figure swayed in her departure as she vanished into darkness. Darius’ attention returned to the arrow fixed firmly in his shoulder causing him to raise his hand and grip the shaft. He inhaled then braced himself, stressing the middle before it gave a sharp snap.

It broke off as he casted it away with a little effort. The thing clattered into the shadows and from sight. His eyes briefly studied the wound then began to make his way through the tunnel and back toward Boris. The Russian had managed to fall back fairly far up the way they came from. Sounds of metal twisting, screeched and churned echoed through the man made structure around him. His feet slapped the floor in a hasty pace while the smoke djinn snapped at his heel.

Already the area seemed smaller than normal, the mage already worked on collapsing it. The metal walls twisted and broken inward and began sealing it off slowly. The bad part, it wasn’t slow enough. Meanwhile, the djinn ripped forward through the narrow tunnel. Its hands gripped and grabbed the walls to push itself along faster. Stone and metal crumbled in behind it, piling up the rumble in its wake.

Boris shouted back at the kitsune, “Hurry up, Darius!”

“I’m coming, keep closing the tunnel!” Darius snapped back, his legs picked up the pace, as he held his hand to the shoulder to stop the bleeding.

It was going to be close. His heart pounded in his chest and lungs burned, his speed struggled to increase in order to make it. Inch by inch the tunnel’s exit began to tighten over time before the fox’s eyes. With one last push, Darius darted in just when the walls crumbled behind him.

Leaning against the nearest wall with his hand, the kitsune huffed then spoke, “Boris, I need help. We need to get out of here, now.”

The day of the operation

3:15 PM West side of the prison.

Zeki had promised logistics, and he had provided. A food service van currently held about a half a dozen security guards, their uniforms and ID's stripped from them. From the van

Several guards had been caught in the parking lot on the way in, their uniforms and ID's taken easily. Zeki himself was happily seated there, whistling to himself. He turned to the rest of the men in the back.

"Everyone whose wanting their disguises to be a little more accurate can make a contract with me by the way. I'm just saying, one little contract, a little bit of Vis, and I guarantee no one will spot the difference. Failing that, this jail did just go through a bit of a hiring and firing spree. And I do believe all these men here-"

He motioned with his cane.

"-have just been fired. I'm rather glad to be part of the hiring process. Now, let's outline the plan, and go in. We have about 15 minutes before they are suppose to clock in. Professor, as odd as it is to see you out of your bourgeois clothing, you are in charge, would you remind everyone here the plan for freeing the prisoners? I'm rather surprised to see you object to weapons, but I must say, I am enamored with your plan."

------------------

Outside the prison, west side

3:15 PM

Roger stood in an empty office with a few members of the resistance. Unlike the infiltration team, they did have weapons, a fair few of them as well. Transporting them had been a pain, but luckily logistics was a certain leader's specialty.

He pointed.

"You all begin your assault in 30 minutes. The goal is simple, we have to draw away as many guards as possible. If we involve local law enforcement, or even a few of the Prae's hunters, we should be alright. Now I'll be leading a protest a few blocks away, that should hamper their ability to respond. We're a little more free form than the other team, just general mayhem. Does anyone have any specialties they'd like share? If we can get past the barbwire, it will be alot easier to cause that panic."

---

The alarm on his phone woke her first, blaring away from the pocket of his pants a few feet away from her spot in the chair. He didn't hear it and after a minute, it turned off. She drifted back off to sleep, even though it was thin and would be easily broken. Five minutes later, the alarm went off again and this time when he didn't stir, she got angry. Standing up, she grabbed the phone from his pants and threw it at him spread out on the bed all by himself.

He cursed softly when the plastic of the phone connected with his stomach, sitting up and looking around himself very confused. When his eyes found the fuming Masha a few feet from the bed, glaring at him, recognition focused his eyes. “Shit, sorry,” he said, scooting to the edge of the big bed to try and gather up his things. “I ah...work ya know…”

Masha nodded and flopped back down into her arm chair, resting her head against the arm and watched him get dressed.

“I ah...I had a good time,” he said awkwardly, obviously not certain if he should be enjoying her watching or not. He cringed some as he pulled his undershirt over the fresh scabs that ran along his hack and chest. Wounds from her affections. “Maybe we can…”

Masha merely shrugged.

He smiled at first, but it faded a little after a moment. “I'll leave you my number anyways,” he said, regaining some of the confidence he'd had the night before. “Just in case that shrug becomes more decided. At the very least we can get some drinks again. You have to admit you at least enjoyed talking to me.”

This time she smiled and stood. “That I did,” she agreed, fishing her own phone out of the chair. He rattled off his number and she actually put it in, calling him to prove it. She grabbed a men's tie from off the dresser. “Here,” she said, slipping it over his head and starting to tie it for him, “at least have a different tie.”

“I'm not going to ask where this came from,” he chuckled.

“Probably best,” she smirked. “You can keep it though, he's obviously not missing it too much.”

When he leaned in for a kiss, she didn't stop him, but she wasn't as into it as she'd been the night before. “I'll see you around, Masha,” he murmured before heading out the door.

Looking to the clock she groaned at what time it was. Stripping out of her robe, she pulled on something between her dress from the night before and the lazy outfit she’d put together before that. She brushed her hair in the cab on the way over, and felt she was finally presentable by the time she was knocking on the door to the mansion that was Darius’ home and headquarters.

“I don’t like the look of dis,” Afua said as she examined the wound on Darius’ shoulder, her eyes narrowed on the hole created. It was discolored along the edges causing her some worry, her arm
then reached to apply a corpse patch.

She inhaled a breath before she took one of her few premade corpse patches- a few days old dead skin preserved and infused with her Vis- as she attached it. When she began to activate it. It was within that moment that the necromancer knew something was wrong. This wasn’t going to last very long and in a few hours, Darius would begin to bleed all over again and likely show worse symptoms much later. This boded badly to her.

“I think it might be time to call Dr. M’ve-” Afua began, then immediately was interrupted by Darius.

“I’m fine,” The kitsune stated when his figure rose, his paw reached for a wash cloth then dabbed at his makeshift patch. The bare shin looked strange against his reddish fur making it appear like he had a bald spot, “No need to call M’ve. It will heal and I’ll be good as new. I need to get ready for my next appointment.”

Boris looked at Darius, his hand gripped the Russian Vodka bottle, then poured Darius another glass. It wasn’t the poorly made American stuff but it would work for the pain. He passed the glass over to the kitsune as Darius held out his hand, denying it for the moment, “I need a clear head for the meeting.”

The kitsune tossed his wash cloth into the basin on the table beside him and gradually pushed himself upright. His right hand grabbed a more fitting shirt then tossed it over him to hid the mismatch skin to fur. A knock at the door caused him to shift, his awareness felt his two employees sizing him up and look to him for orders. After his wrapped up dressing, Darius began to form orders to the pair, “Alright, Afua and Boris, take a bit of time off and settle down. Keep your cells on hand however as I’ll call you later.”

With that, Darius walked through the living room and into the foyer. His paw reached for the door ornate door knob and carefully pulled it backwards, his eyes lowered to gaze upon the young woman that stood outside.

“When Vlad made this arrangement, I didn’t quite expect to see an interesting creature gracing my door and ready to talk business. I enjoy the surprise however. Now, please coming in. Shall I get you something to drink?”

Masha was a little surprised to see Darius himself answer the door, but she tucked away her blinking quickly enough and smiled up at him. They had of course met before. They'd spent some time with her brother and Sergei at least drinking and talking after business with her father had concluded and he'd gone off to do other things. But this was the first time she'd come to talk business of her own with him.

She stepped into the house at his offer, shifting her bag a little in her shoulder. “Well, my brother likes surprising people. He neglected to mention to me that he'd done this until last night.” She looked around as she came in, only briefly though, before golden eyes framed in the smudges of last nights makeup came back to rest on Darius. There was something a little off about him today. He wasn’t quite the same as he’d been the last time they’d spoken a few years before. He must not have gotten much sleep either. But that wasn’t something she felt was her place to bring up at the moment. “I’d love a drink.”

“Likely hoping you would take the reins with the lack of information and be on your toes, at least those are my own theories. Many Licentia don’t have such...interesting dynamics when it comes to our own kind. Anyways, I’ll get you some water as you’re likely dehydrated and might help tamper off the side effects,” Darius commented as he shut the door, the handle clicked shut, then moved toward the liquor cabinet nearby.

He indicated for Masha to take a seat in the living room-more specifically on the loveseat- then took a glass and a plastic bottle from the nearby mini refrigerator before he followed her. He held out the water for his current guest on his way to his seat, casually lowering himself down.

“Alright, could you please begin? However, keep in mind you might need to repeat yourself since I’m expecting my business associate to show up at some point. Vlad didn’t want to elaborate over your intentions and merely said he wanted me to meet you over a business proposal that might be occurring in my territory.”

“Our territory.” Logan’s voice came from the hallway as he walked towards the room’s entrance. “The Prae would have gotten rid of you by now if I wasn’t around.” The man now stood in the doorway, a smirk lining his lips. “You must be Maryia Vladslavovna Vorobyova…” His pronunciation of Masha’s name was perfect. “I hear that you and Darius have already been… well acquainted.”

Darius sighed through his nose as he settled back into the seat. Mentally it was a temporary arrangement but correcting Mr. Crowley in front of the client was an ill way of doing business, especially with partners. His eyes darted toward Logan’s direction while he edged from seemingly nowhere and seemed unpleasantly pleased by his demonstration. However, Darius had been seeing this for a few months and the surprise had long ago faded in his reaction.

Masha had settled herself down on the loveseat as directed, placing her bag in the floor and against the couch with her legs in front of it. There wasn't much of anything that she was worried abou Darius either taking or knowing about, but it was habit nevertheless. Her nose had wrinkled up at the water, but she'd taken it and thanked him anyways. Logan’s voice made her flick her gaze over to him, looking him over like she was sure he'd done to her before speaking.

“My,” she said, sounding and looking surprised at the way her name was handled so deftly. “Someone's been practicing. You can just called me Masha. And we aren't well aquatinted, but we do know one another.”

“Ms. Vorobyova will do.” Logan remained polite. He called very few people by their self selected names. “Give the woman something stronger than water, Darius. Of all things to offer a guest, a nice wine, a bottle from your special collection, but water?” The man’s eyebrow raised, puzzled by Darius’ choice of offering. “I thought at this point you understood social etiquette.”

“Considering she’s been drinking and had signs of a hangover, giving her ‘hair of the dog’ didn’t seem like a good idea,” Darius stated, noting something that clearly Mr. Crowley overlooked or pretended to ignore. His figure lifted upright then left the two alone, disappearing into the foyer, as he went to get the woman something he knew wouldn’t help her hangover.

“I doubt Ms. Vorobyova cares about her hangover right now.” The man had a point, she wouldn’t be here if the hangover was a problem. There were far more important things to discuss right now.

“Nor do I think she appreciates talking like she isn’t here. I’m a host after all, if she would like something stronger than she is welcomed to ask for it. From what her father tells me, she is a vocalized individual and isn’t afraid to speak her mind,” Darius stated then turned to walk into the room, a wine glass in his hand and held out for her, “Unless you would like to correct what little I know of you? It would be helpful to get the information directly rather than from others. Also, I’m mostly following the promise I made to Vlad and your father. I don’t take advantage of those I respect after all.”

He once more took his place in his seat, his left leg crossed over and torso leaned against the chair back.His head briefly checked the direction of his breast to ensure there wasn’t a darkened, red spot leaking through his outfit. Masha, or Mr. Cowley, seeing blood seeping from his body would most distracting.

Masha raised an eyebrow and a hand up to speak for herself, but the two of them kept going like she wasn't there. “Men,” she mumbled to herself, shaking her head a little bit and rolling her eyes. When Darius returned with the wine she looked up at him with a very pleased smile. “Hairy of the dog is good though,” she said as her smile grew. She looked over to Logan and smiled at him as well. “Thank you,” she said with a little wink.

“So to business,” she said without further pretense. “If you two are done trying to be alpha here.”

“Apologies for my behavior. I’ve been dealing with unsavory issues earlier and I’m a bit out of sorts, currently I’m waiting for your proposal. If you would be so kind to start off with exactly what you intend to do and how,” Darius calmly stated. The kitsune had little issue to admitting to be wrong, as he pushed down his ‘mask’ and gestured for her to continue. He made a mental note that she seemed to prefer the ‘Hair of the dog’ was preferred with Masha.

She nodded her head, shifting in her place a little bit so as to be able to see both of them a little more easily. “I'm relatively new to the city, and I already have an in flow of cash through a small fashion boutique that I bought out a few months ago. But my father has taught me not all my eggs into one basket as it were. So I'm looking to expand. And into less...ah fashionable avenues. Maybe something more in the club scene. Or dirtier.”

Darius placed his fingers together then put it upon his muzzle end. He tapped the end in thought for a moment and considered what would be suitable for her before he leaned back into his chair in order to reply in a blunt fashion, “I often call them high risk and reward avenues myself. It is much more appropriate. Though it’s ideal to know fully what you’re getting yourself involved with before you make a final decision.”

He shifted and adjusted his jacket, plopping the side over toward the center, “The best option is normally working directly for me which by default, includes my partner. This more direct work range from running money to key locations to even owning a location where items or individuals are stored. The running is expected for you make it appear to provide other services.”

The kitsune then folded his hands into each other then added one last thing, “What is your strengths? Depending on them will help determine which is best for you at the start, then you can learn to branch off.”

Masha’s smile faltered at the idea of doing work herself. She hid the look in her glass, keeping her eyes down on her lap for a second as he went on. “My strengths lie in being in charge of people, not being the grunt.” She flicked her eyes back up to his thoughtful face. “Not that I can't take orders though.”

“Being a grunt, as you kindly put it, does have its advantages. Especially when you’re placed under the right individual that you can learn from. I found more loopholes through working my way from the bottom, including how the system works best, then anyone who found themselves at the top,” Darius polite informed Masha, mindful to hide the hint of hurt at her statement, “It’s a better and kinder method than ones I was raised on to be sure. Another thing to consider is that reputation is everything in the risk and reward side of things and without it, you can’t get very far without becoming a scapegoat for greater ambitions.”

Mentally, Darius was hoping that Masha had more than commanding as a talent. Reputation given was not worth shit unless it was earned in his world and that might prove difficult if she wasn’t willing to get her hands dirty when it fell to her to keep it. Pausing a moment, he continued, “Do you have any specific experiences or talents you believe would be useful? Dealing with a ledger for your father or Vlad, even running small errands for example?”

Masha couldn’t help the smirk that crossed her face at the less than wholesome thought that came to mind at the phrase ‘placed under the right individual.’ She knew that wasn’t what he’d meant, but she had to admit, knowing what he was, and knowing him in general, she was not opposed to that sort of thing. The smirk shifted a little as he went on, but she didn’t let that become the focus of this. He’d made passing mentions before about what it had been like growing up for him, but now was not the time for that. She just filed it away for later.

Which reminded her as he asked what else she’d done. “I’ve been my father’s secretary for years, but I’ve done books for my own businesses, for Vlad’s even, for a long time. Got a head for numbers. I’m pretty good at getting information out of people too.”

“Tell me, Ms. Vorobyova.” Logan began. “Have you ever been to a Grand Cabaret? Or perhaps a Cabaret Club?”

Masha looked at Logan with surprise clear on her face. “Of course,” she said with a snort of a laugh. “What kind of socialite do you think I am to have never been to a cabaret?”

“Have you seen one on the way here?” Logan asked.

Her dark eyebrows pulled together before one raised up slightly. “No,” she said with a huffing little laugh. “I've been in town two weeks, and I've spent most of that time in a nice haze in my bed.”

“You see. That’s the thing. The entertainment district here in Ominar is nothing but Casinos, owned by the fox here.” Logan paused for a moment to look at Darius, watching his reaction. “Now what is a district dedicated to entertainment, without the entertainment? This place needs a Cabaret. At least as a start. So, tell us. Do you plan to invest in this unknown venture of yours with your own funds, or are you looking for a kickback of funds from us to help you on your way?”

Darius gradually realised the reason Logan chose this specific avenue of discussion. Primarily to determine Ms. Vorobyova’s intentions and direction with her business, something expected since Vlad didn’t have personal connections with the Director of AIII. Very little was expressed on his muzzle, making it difficult to tell if the name fox insulted him or not, as he used to be called much worse. His eyes studied Mr. Cowley for a moment and allowed the conversation to continue.

“I’m looking for three P’s,” she started with a little chuckle. “People, property, and protection. I have money, and plenty to invest in this. I just don’t have the connections for the rest here. I wasn’t specifically looking for entertainment in that sense, but I’m not opposed to it either, I suppose.” She shrugged a little and sipped at her wine again.

“If you are looking for more… illegal ventures, that’s Darius’ forte.”

“I wouldn’t say the district is all Casinos, but a good portion is. There’s also clubs, particular dens, and other adult entertainment scattered throughout this district that I have invested in. However, the last nightclub’s owner seems to have experienced an unfortunate and rather terrible accident within the last week. I’m currently in the market for someone to replace him,” Darius calm offered, hinting for Masha to give him reason to consider her for the job, “Its name is ‘One Night in Hell’’, a pun on the fact I hold a high amount of stock in the establishment and likely the means of how I did. A lot of my more unpopular business runs through there which means a lot of work and encounters with myself while checking on my investments.”

Logan chuckled at Darius’ proposition. “No pressure, Ms. Vorobyova.”

She turned her gaze back to Darius and smiled brightly. Almost childlike. “Now see, that’s a bit more responsibility than I had in mind, but the exact sort of thing I was thinking of.” She finished her drink then and put on a thinking face that was obviously a bit more show than reality. “ ‘One Night in Hell,’ “ she repeated, humming, “I certainly like the sound of that, if you’re interested in letting me give it a go.”

“Yes. I was considering giving you a week’s probation to see how you do. You have one day to get ready and prepare for it, getting your affairs in order before I give you orientation. Then I’ll send Afua to work with you in order to help you get organized,” A predatory glint flickered on his eyes, a warning that if she wasn’t worth the effort then she would be removed to something likely less pleasant, “The staff requires a firm hand, something I hope you will provide to ensure they listen and Afua will be there to help. Through keep in mind, she’s there to observe and report back to me over your progression. The probation will increase or decrease based on her report.”

Masha grinned, even at the look he gave her that implied that she'd not be dealt with kindly if she failed. “Thank you,” she said with a nod of her head. “Thank you both,” she went on, smiling just as slyly at Logan as she did at Darius.

“Just keep in mind what I said. If this position doesn’t work out, you will find yourself in another and likely less desirable one. I expect your best and full effort because it will reflect upon what trust I placed into your father’s and Vlad’s words over what you can handle,” Darius said as he lifted upright from his seat. Immediately he paused, his figure briefly tensed then gradually relaxed in less than a few seconds, his hand reached up to casually rub the area where the arrow had shot earlier. After a moment, he then made an elegant bow and offered a hand to help Masha up, “I would also encourage you not to depend heavily on Afua because she’s got additional duties and will be gone sometimes. In addition, I can’t always spare one of my people to assist you so you will need to develop respect, in many forms, with these individuals. If you can’t, I will find someone else.”

His golden eyes turned to Mr. Crowley for a moment, “Anything you would like to add, Mr. Crowley.”

Darius resisted pointing out that this fox was done, jabbing at the name and view of the unique individual.

“Nope. She’s all yours.” Logan replied to the kitsune.

The tensing didn’t go past Masha’s notice and she looked Darius over again with that information in hand. His night had been rough, but not in the fun way it seemed. But shouldn’t someone of his abilities have been able to heal whatever it was that had happened? She took his offer up, standing fluidly. “I can stand on my own, given time,” she said with a little smirk. Turning to look at Logan she pouted a little. “Your loss I guess,” she murmured with a little wink. She knew he hadn’t meant what she was implying, but she wasn’t about to let that go past without a joking comment either.

Darius’ thumb gently stroked the top of Masha’s hand as he released, then pulled his arm behind his back. He gestured to walk ahead of him, holding back a chuckle, and officially escorted her out. The transaction complete in both their minds.

She smiled at the squeeze and followed him to the door, pulling out her phone to call up a cab again. When she stood at the door, she dug through her purse again to find a little metal case. She popped it open and pulled out a business card with her name, phone number, email, address back in London, and the hint of skulls and typical followers associated with the dead embossed into the paper as well. “Obviously the address is a little out of date, but everything else is still valid,” she said as she haned it over to him, held between two thin fingers. “Thank you again, Darius. Truely. I won’t let you down.”

---

Impeccable manners, as she had thought he had been trained almost from birth and he had been trained well. While a smile already graced her lips, a pleased, somewhat amused look was embedded deep in her sparkling blue eyes as she stared at her young knight.

“Oh, believe me I have a task for you, but first.... Good morning and welcome to Medius, or...Earth as some of the humans call it.” She stood from her chair, “You may rise, young knight,” she said, turning from him, her hands folding over one another behind her back as she returned to gazing out the sweeping window of her office and off into the city.

“Before you lies what is a human city,” she begun “...but I think, in time we may call it our home as well. Today you will help me, you will be my eyes and my wings, Nasargiel.” If he had not yet joined her, she now turned her head just enough so that she could see him from the corner of her eye, and then gestured that he join her. “I will not ask you if you are ready,” she said, once he had taken his place at her side, “I will not pressure you unless necessary, but I will ask much of you, young one.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, the smile gone from her features for a moment. The serious expression was calculated to allow him an understanding of her authority without ordering him, without pushing him. It was to show him the seriousness behind her words and actions going forwards, even if she often acted pleasantly and with grace.

Most of all, though he would not understand its significance, it was a look behind the mask and into the cold, icy heart of his Exeo. Into the mind of the Queen's Spear.

She turned her gaze from him, smiling, clearly pleased at what she had seen in him.

“Today,” she begun, “I have been informed that there is to be a riot or protest of sorts. I will be sending you and a small squad to assist the OCPD in handling the situation. However, you are only to interfere once things have, as the humans like to say, gone south. That is to say, things will have gotten messy, perhaps violent. Crimes will have been committed.”

She paused a moment, looking at him. “If you question the morality of this directive, let me remind you of two things. First, everything that I do—and thus everything you do—is for the sake of both our own prosperity and that of the human race in the centuries to come. Second, this is a move to show that left alone, humans only cause destruction to themselves and others. To reinforce that, with our guidance they may attain a truly stable society such that they will never miss being as they are now.”

She again watched his expression, but this time she did not look away, instead she waited to see if he had anything to say. After all, despite having learned as much as she could have from his parents, friends, and the files their government kept on its citizens, there was simply no substitute for personal interaction and analysis. Thus, she awaited his reply, hoping that he would not only fail to disappoint her, but that he would succeed in interesting her.

Of course, her expectations had been let down before....

---

---

Things were going splendidly, the nightwalker thought as he strolled through the city. He made a point of looking less...distinctive as he did so, after all, he didn't want to look suspicious while he checked on his men.

Of course, he had almost finished. In fact, with Aeris out of his hair once more, he could pay a visit to two others. The thought brought him great joy actually, after all, he could see both now, and he had a hand in the suffering of both parties. This in mind, he slipped into an alleyway and stepped right into a shadow, vanishing.

---

Reappearing in almost the same moment he had vanished, the nightwalker found himself, quite amusingly, face to face with a monstrous angry Licentia. He smiled up at it, emitting his vis quite intentionally—sure to notify Darius of his presence in addition to the monster before him. “Well done,” he said to the Djinn, before he vanished again, his voice impossible to hear through the rubble that separated him from his adopted son. As he reappeared he did it just behind a casually retreating Krysta, his movements entirely silent, his vis suppressed, he was impossible for her to detect.

So it was that, with a grin, he spoke out, breaking the silence. “Well done.”

---

Elsewhere, a far less amused looking nightwalker waltzed out from a dark crevice in the wall and regarded Darius with a disappointed, but entirely unsurprised frown. As if to say, 'Oh look who ran into trouble again.' To the Kitsune, it would be an expression he found all too familiar.

---

Charles had tried, several times, to get a hold of Mr. Cain. Each time he had received a rather acrimonious female who explained promptly over and over that her employer wasn’t in and if he insisted on getting ahold of Mr. Cain, he would have to schedule an appointment. It was a polite way of telling him to cease or face prosecution by authorities for harassment. Normally the immortal would’ve continued to insist, but her voice clearly stated a no nonsense approach and would make good on her threat. Any additional attempts would only complicate things rather than resolve anything he needed.

After trying for maybe the fifth time today, Charles gave a soft sigh then powered the smartphone down. When the screen darkened, he slipped the device back into his pocket and rested his arms upon his knees. His head lifted to examine his current situation. Mr. Glaedwine had made good on his word thus far. It was much better than the professor originally expected as he studied the overhauled food van’s empty interior. The metal insides had been stripped of their shelving and replaced by temporary benches but the outside was completely untouched.

The professor had to admit that it was clever using a bread company, Kingmill Gold, that delivered once a week to the prison. It wouldn’t be out of place for the staff to see it rolling up through the security as long as it was due for their rounds this week.

For a while, the ride seemed to go through smoothly. Every so often he was jostled by the ride itself, the tires hit every pothole and ditch unfilled it seemed to find. His breath seemed to become shallow and nervous, weighed down by the knowledge of was to come. Even worse was the price. Charles leaned forward and ruffled his wild, curly black hair a few times to settle his growing anxiety.

A sound caught his attention and his head turned. Before he could say anything, about a half a dozen guards were abruptly seized, tousled up and stripped down to the very bare essentials before being tossed into the van. Charles immediately took back everything good he had thought about Mr. Glaedwine all in a single moment. On reaction, his head leaned forward and sank into his hands to hide his horrified expression at the scene.

In the back of his mind, this whole plan was waiting to fall apart at the seams. He inhaled then exhaled, letting the motion calm his irritation until the van finally grinded to an official stop. Ignoring the Licenti’s whistling and pleasant mood, as this wasn’t the time to be merry, Charles moved toward the back to quickly change. He mixed and matched the uniform that consisted of a double pocket, white shirt with dark shoulder stripes, straight black slacks, hard boots, and a belt into an outfit that fit him well enough. The pant cuffs slightly dragged below the boot sole but unless someone looked down, they would never know.

He picked off the security ID off the youngest one and realized something dreadful. Each card had a picture of their own, providing additional protection against fraud. The only guard that matched his appearance was about 5’9”, had dark goatee along his greasy jawline and seemed to be in his early thirties.

Charles tried not to let his bitterness show that it was easier to find stand ins that fit Mr. Kasio and Mr. Hagar closely enough that no one would immediately notice the difference.

Part of him wished that Zeki had pre made the IDs for each of them so they fit perfectly rather than take the risk. It didn’t help his image fit more with teenagers who belonged in school rather than working at the prison. Sighing, Charles passed over the two IDs to their respective owner then moved over to his trousers folded to the side. He reached in and after a moment of searching, he had finally found a pocket knife he had been looking for and his wallet.

Charles’ sat down and began to work on replacing the photo with a his own wallet one when he heard Zeki’s comment over a contract. His head jerked up and frowned at what he viewed to be a ‘snake oil’ pitch, “I appreciate the cleverness and offer, but I must decline. I need my Vis for the distort spell I’m about to cast. Something I’ll offer, free of strings, to anyone that requires it.”

He didn’t give any further details until he knew exactly who was interested in it and would take the offer. The spell prevented identification mainly, but it would only last an hour on a small group and that meant whatever they did would have to be fast. Throughout the day, the thoughts of a plan drifted in and out of his attention. Each scheme and idea ranged from outrageous to dangerous. Now he was being asked to present one he himself wasn’t fully sure of.

The professor twisted about to pull out a holographic display, depicting the prison outlay according to Mr. Glaedwine’s information, and made sure everyone could easy see. After a moment or two, he began, “If you knew me, then you wouldn’t be surprised. I’m been in more wars than I’ve like to seen and in all my long lived life, I’ve seen them do more harm than good. Besides, the reality of it is this: We’re not going to get everyone out. We might as well limit the casualties and not increase the media frenzy this will bring.”

Coughing a bit to clear his throat, he then began with the plan.

“First here’s the basics of issues we need to deal with. Based on the intel from our host, the prison is what you expect in average security level. Since the Prae’s and Licentia’s influence in the city, additional guards and some magical protection has been added. On the main grounds, unauthorized teleportation or other magical entry are countered. It is also likely to set off alarms so if anyone besides me have teleportation magic, let’s avoiding it until we’re outside the wall, Charles request then began to point to the Administration, isolation cells, and the block C where the official criminals- the ones that were there before the Prae’s gradual takeover of Ominar- were located, “Avoid here, here, and here. These places will attract numerous attention and have nothing we need.”

Charles inhaled then let his mind tick a few moments more before he continued, “We have few things to actually consider and do in order to have a chance of getting out of here untouched. We need to cut off the security cameras to the areas we’re going to release prisoners at, head to block A and B where the more recent residents are kept, block off the adjoint hallway here to slow detour any additional reinforcements, and finally secure the escape route. Anything I’m forgetting as I’ve only had a day to plan this.”

---

‘No...no, he can’t be here,’ Darius mentally screamed when he felt the flare of energy. He could only describe it as dark and cold as the sensation numbed him, its powerful grip swelled upon his being and caused him to still in fear. The kitsune barely felt the Russian mage lift his arm and wrap it over the thicker man’s neck, Boris’ figure pressed against Darius to support the petrified fox. It took a moment for the human to notice that Darius hadn’t moved, drawing his eyes to look at his boss and become completely confused.

Darius, his breathing heavy and deep, had lifted his golden eyes to stare at the nightwalker who had materialized in front of him. His ears pinned back and black lips curled back to give him a more feral appearance than the intelligent creature he usually presented himself to be in public. His fur bristled as his expression tightened into aggression, though it wouldn’t do him any good in his state.

He hated that look as memories surfaced whenever it appeared. It was often connected to disappointment, but the source varied either from his past attempts to outfox the nightwalker to whenever Szayeis saved him from being killed. Usually the source determined the aftermath that followed and that put Darius on edge. It had been three years since they had met face to face. For some humans, that was considered a long time but for most Licentia… that was more akin to a week than years.

The more recent ones, one being six months and another a year, were more distant means of communication which put him more at ease. They never made him feel like the frightened, weak child he did now.

It was Boris’ questioning voice that broke the reaction Darius had slipped into and rip the kitsune back into the present, “Who’s this, Darius?”

Golden eyes shifted to the Russian and observed him a moment, all aggression curled into ash when realization crossed his features. Then Darius returned to face Szayeis. How to answer the question was the most difficult task for him. Benefactor? No. Tormentor? Sometimes. Father? That would require love, according to any human that knew the definition and something Darius slightly doubted existed in the nightwalker. At least not the type that one would consider narrow and straight.

“That’s… a complicated question,” whispered Darius as he tried not to lean heavily into the metal mage. He knew Mr. Crowley was still lurking about and would show up when it was convenient for him, which Darius hoped never came. The last thing he wanted was Logan meeting Szayeis while he was in his wounded state. It took several moments to steady his racing heart and calm the raging instinct to either fight or flight, before his found his voice. He had no doubt Szayeis would’ve noted it, “I was hoping you would’ve arrived at a more… convenient time.”

Expression largely unchanged at seeing his son’s response, Darius would note a slight glint in the nightwalker’s eyes, a subtle expression of amusement at the Kitsune’s response to his presence. Terror, hatred, and unwilling subservience. “I save your life, time and time again, boy and yet, every time you see me you become an ugly, primal…” he gestured at Darius as if to indicate the entirety of his expression and body language, “...thing.”

He shook his head again and as he looked up at the Fox his expression had shifted, now slightly bemused. He began to circle Darius, the act of a predator surveying its prey, something that he knew was sure to draw forth caution in the Fox, while also stirring his hatred far more.

Darius’ head jerked to follow Szayeis’ movements as he watched the nightwalker circle. Every nerve ending in his brain tried to tug him into running, but that was an action that never ended well. Not then, and certainly not now. His tails hugged tightly to his figure physically showing what he desperately wanted to hide, his head able to only go so far, hindered by Boris who was still holding him upright and didn’t understand what was going on. Or why, for the first time, he was witnessing fear in Darius.

“I had intended to come offering gifts and the potential for better business, but you seem to have other ideas. Or am I to interpret that differently?” He again gestured at Darius, but this time specifically at his face. He stopped stalking, and held up a finger, “Don’t answer that.” It was not a request, but an order, something which the Fox’s subordinate was unlikely to pick up on--though the man would almost certainly detect the condescension in his words.

“If you’d rather I leave you alone, I suppose I could...given certain circumstances,” he smiled, displaying the malice, charisma, and devious manipulative intelligence that dwelled within him for the first time in their conversation. The expression, despite the nightwalker’s current form, was barely human.

To reinforce the impression, he raised his cane, and struck it once against the ground, eliciting an echo and causing a silent and invisible--but quite detectable--eruption of vis, which shot straight into the rubble of the collapsed tunnel. A distinct grinding coupled with a strange hum became immediately audible, and as it did Szayeis smirked at the two, before looking away from them and returning to his stalking. The moment he did so, the sounds ceased and the rubble settled back into place, “Or you could perhaps attempt to be civil, instead of acting like the feral Kitsune I found all those many years ago. Unless you’d like to end up like your father,” he shot Darius a glance, before looking away again, his words implying not just a descent into insanity for the Fox, but likely also death--after all, Szayeis had killed the Kitsune’s birth parent to save him.

At the threat, Darius cringed. All aggression slipped from his posture as his ears continued to be pinned back and head turned away, unable to continue the eye contact. It was a look Szayeis had witnessed numerous times. One of submission, acceptance and even realization that the nightwalker held the leash. Every bit of that threat Darius knew Szayeis could and would make happen the moment he was of no use to the nightwalker. It was a fear he couldn’t escape.

“Unless, of course, you have some kind of alternative, mmm?” He stopped, his position in the middle of the tunnel, opposite the rubble, his presence effectively blocking off their retreat. Yet, his demeanor made it seem as if he wasn’t even aware he had done it, implying an effortless sort of analysis, not to mention an ability to do just exactly what needed to be done in most situations.

Indeed, as manipulative men went, Szayeis was a fine specimen, and one day, he would have the world admit him as the best of them.

One day.

But that was a thought for later. For now, it was the impudent little Fox he had to deal with and honestly, that suited him just fine. After all, licentia lived forever so he was hardly short on time.

“Forgive me, I…overreacted,” Darius spoke, his ears still pinned to his skull through the growling tone had ceased. His head lifted to look at the ‘monster’ that raised him, his eyes still having difficulty in holding contact, as he continued, “I’m not my best when I’m wounded and instincts tend to be hard to control at the unexpected, a fact you will undoubtedly remember. I was hoping I wouldn’t be a mess when we met face to face and I could be able to present proper hospitality.”

‘And time to collect then brace myself against you,’ Darius added silently, his eyes still lowered in case Szayeis wasn’t satisfied with his attempt to be civil.

“I see,” he said, no amusement in his expression, making it impossible for Darius to tell if his apology had been accepted or not. After a long silence, he chuckled, “Very well,” he replied. “So, tell me, have you done anything in regards to the pestilence in your city?” When he uttered the word, it was as if an intense disgust came over him--but it was for but a brief second that it appeared before vanishing once more. Darius would know that the only beings that could invoke such disgust in the nightwalker were the prae.

Meanwhile, Boris would remain quite confused.

Darius remained still, his figure trying to rein everything he felt, as he listened to the nightwalker. His eyes careful to retain whatever contact he could stand before he spoke, carefully phrasing his words, “It’s been slow progression, mainly to avoid their attention. Each time I raise to a position they feel is unsuitable, they find ways to put me back to where they feel I belong. Sometimes I’ve gotten lucky enough to find loopholes that require they play nice, but as I’ve said it’s slower than expected.”

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth. He had been following the path with the least collateral damage, the primary reason that his progression was slow and painfully lacking effect upon the prae. Boris, unsure what to do, twisted a bit then pressed a hand against the wound that started to seep a trickle of blood down the fox’s side.

“Hmm, I see, I suppose that is to be expected. They may be scum, but they are not complete idiots,” he paused, tapping a finger against the top of his cane, looking as if in thought. “Any particular notable developments of late?”

“Yes…” A voice came from behind Szayeis. “Me…” Logan Crowley always had this strange uncanny ability to show up at the worst moments. Something Darius grew to dislike overtime, but it was unavoidable. Crowley was like a mosquito, an annoying constant buzz in Darius’ ear, and impossible to get rid of. But it sure as hell was a better alternative to the Nightwalker, whether Darius liked the idea or not.

“I was always curious about Mr. Cain’s adoptive daddy. And now I finally get to meet him.” Logan’s purple irises inspected the creature before him, a sharp exhale escaping through his nose as a smirk emerged on his face. “Your reputation for ridiculous fashion sense proceeds you.” He was clearly mocking the Licentia, obviously unimpressed.

A presence shifted into existence just behind him and while his first instincts were to raze everything in his vicinity or shadow walk to gain distance, neither option would make him appear strong. Instead, he moved not at all, but kept his senses at peak performance so he could react if needed. However, it appeared to be one of the boy’s acquaintances, how disappointing.

He raised an eyebrow, but did not move in the least, his body betraying not even the slightest line of tension. He didn’t even turn to look at the man, instead using his unique senses to observe the man without overt notice.

His visage was familiar and it brought a small smile to his lips. “Ah, Mr. Crowley,” he said, his tone one addressing an old friend or rival, “...your reputation precedes you. I had intended to meet with you, but not so soon. I must be quite important for you to have dragged yourself from your home into these sewers.” All the while, he maintained the smile, his eyes locked on the Fox’s as if to say ‘You have some explaining to do, little one.’

“Or, perhaps Darius has garnered your attention, as he should. I taught him well.” His grin widened almost imperceptibly, as the look in his eyes shifted again. The nightwalker did not appear to care if Logan saw his expression for some reason.

Nothing, in Darius’ mind, screamed pawn or gnat like being caught between hungry, and dangerous giants in a game he was still learning. It was the nature of manipulation and shadows after all to continually shift and change hands. The Fox swallowed at the verbal conversation between the two as he caught Szayeis’ eyes focused on him. His arm tightened about Boris, the Russian still distracted by trying to stop the blood, and tried to not give anything away to betray he knew this whole ordeal would end terribly.

“I’m here to discuss with Darius how disappointed I am with his performance with dealing with his current problem, you know her very well.” Logan casually walked around Szayeis, placing himself in between the fox and the Licentia, hiding the Kitsune from the being’s view. “Krysta.”

“You see, I have been observing the situation for a while. And I have noticed something quite annoying.” Logan’s face turned into a scowl. “I assume this is how you teach your children. Force them to battle it out and see which is the strongest. That’s how you always presented Darius’ challenges. Contracts. You are very good at those.” He paused to let his tone and message sink in.

“You see. Your little… challenge, is causing some issues with my contract. Issues that are costing me time and money. Now when I have found out that you were the one handing out the cards, it made things a little more complicated. I was going to give Darius another chance, but now…” He looked back at Darius, the disappointment in his face was gut wrenching. “But now, I have to take matters into my own hands. Krysta is no longer the problem, you are. You are playing a very dangerous game by stepping on my toes…”

His head turned back to Szayeis, seemingly in thought. “Getting rid of you right here and now would be too easy, and damn boring. So, how about a wager? Your shard contract is the prize.”

“Ah, I see, so your influence has gone to your head,” he said, smile still present as the man stepped between him and his Kitsune. He sighed, shook his head, and rubbed his temples before letting his hand fall back to the cane that stood planted between the floor and his hands just before him.

It was odd, he had outright ignored 90% of what the man had said. As his head rose to regard the man again, his smile had faded and he looked rather serious. “You look down on those who regulate the darker recesses of human society and you idealistically think they can be removed in time. I have lived over one thousand years and have numerous records and first hand accounts of human civilization. I can tell you that this is simply not how their psychology works. Of course, you humans have a tendency to see either the best or the worst in your own so I do understand your bias.” He paused a moment, as if taking the measure of the man, “Nonetheless, you have done well for yourself. Too well in too short a time. Building wealth takes time, and you’ve not had enough of it. What is it you really want, Mr. Crowley?”

He had heard the man’s earlier conversations with Krysta’s minions, after all, he’d watched the entire encounter and had had reason to. Beyond that, Ominar had always been something of a point of interest--what with his son living there--and when the prae had arrived he had been driven to do as much research on the players of the city as he could.

He’d found odd things about Crowley then and, in typical licenti fashion, he had not forgotten a single detail. It was with this knowledge and the knowledge of the experience of many humans and licentia before him that he asked his question and made his argument.

Of course, on the inside, he found one thing strange: Why was it that the human made him almost treat him as an equal simply by being?

“Let’s not kid ourselves here Szayeis, we both have been watching each other for a long time. My long term interests do not concern you, but my current ones do. We both want the the Prae out of Ominar, for similar reasons. Your methods, however, are getting in my way.” Logan responded with the primary point. The Licenti didn’t need to know anything other than that.

“If you think my methods impede yours by design or in general, then you are foolishly not paying enough attention, besides, I just got here yesterday.” He flashed the man a smile, before letting it fade.

“That you did, but your strings expand beyond Licentia. And that concerns me.” Logan stared into the Licenti’s eyes. “My wager still stands, wanna know the winning conditions?”

He sighed, “I suppose I can humor you.” Something had subtly shifted about his demeanor, as if he was swiftly losing interest.

“Bored already? Then what I’m about to say should make things interesting. Whoever undermines the Prae the most, while also undermining his opponent, wins. We can use any means necessary, both against each other, and the Prae.

“You win? Darius is all yours, and you can deal with what’s left of the Prae as you wish, I won’t stop you. Now if I win, I become Darius’ contractor, and take your place. Anytime you attempt to even step foot on Medius, I will send you back, and if you continue to try, then I will personally kill you.” Logan put his hand into his trench coat, and pulled out what appeared to be a scroll, which he hung above his head to let it unravel. “This is the contract between us for our little game, stating the terms and the conditions of this match…” The contract was written in pure vis, each word written in Licentian. Logan’s signature, written in vis, rested at the bottom of the scroll. “You don’t have to sign it, but know that if you don’t, I will kill you right here and now.”

The boredom slipped away, there was no smile, no expression, and not even any telling body language. He opened his mouth slightly, a frown forming, then slipping away again as his mouth closed. He sighed, “You are perhaps the least intelligent businessman I have ever encountered.”

“If you wish to test that theory, then don’t sign the scroll. I wouldn’t threaten you if we didn’t stand on equal footing” Logan was serious. This wasn’t a simple threat, but a warning.

Darius growled, deep and bared his teeth at the threat Mr. Crowley presented, “Logan Crowley, I would kindly appreciate it if you recall the contract’s legal applications. Voiding it will hurt you more than benefit or get your point across. In addition, if you know kitsune as well as you seem to then you know I can’t allow that…”

“When presenting a game, you make the win conditions equal on both sides, not stilted in your favor. Otherwise, all involved will not wish to play as there is no real gain from doing so. Additionally, I would like to inform you of something. My life has no value.”

“You see, if you could actually destroy me, I would have made that a winning condition.”

Szayeis sighed, “If you kill me, everything you are fighting for will be meaningless. You will feel self satisfied for a brief time, and then, as the dominoes fall, your small victory will turn to ash in your mouth and you will know what it means to be beaten.” He paused a moment, looking at the scroll, “You may kill me if you wish, but I will simply not sign a contract whose losing conditions involve either my death or permanent exile from an entire realm, loss me a son and numerous other assets and even friendships, I dare say, while it’s win conditions give me nothing I could not have had without the deal.”

He lifted one hand from his cane, letting it rest at his side, “Furthermore, I can see that there is no love lost between you and I, as you humans say. Yet, I find it funny, for while that applies to you, I simply do not care. My life is as much a tool as everyone I arrange across the board, and having thought you would be...more intelligent, I had planned to work alongside you, even let you in on the finer attributes of my scheme. Except, here you stand, threatening my life, my freedom, and my happiness whilst giving no equally good alternative.”

“I would work with you, not against you, but I see--in your eyes--that the only thing you wish to do with me is fight, and then kill me. You are not just a terrible businessman, but you are a foolish man. if you are indeed a man at all.”

Szayeis tapped his cane against the ground once, but nothing happened.

Darius’ head twisted about behind him, his eyes narrowed on the tunnel and the warped metal. There was likely only one way to prevent this conflict and likely be heard by the ‘titans’ independently. However, he mentally hated the idea as he gashed his teeth over it a moment. It meant someone, him and possibly Boris, were going to have to risk dying when this ploy paid off.

Leaning into Boris, knowing that Szayeis would hear, the kitsune spoke quietly, “Open the tunnel behind us, now.”

“What?” Boris asked, his eyes widened and looked terrified at the notion of letting in the Djinn, “That thing will kill us-”

Just as Boris questioned Darius’ order, gunfire erupted from behind the rubble. “I’m sorry Darius.” Logan said. “But this is between me and him, let's keep it that way.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Logan…” Darius’ eyes tightened and his fur edged on end, his figure stepped from Boris’ support.

He immediately turned, cold air forming around his arm, outstretched, sending a bolt of ice towards Darius’ and Boris’ feet. They both could quickly feel the coldness crawl up their legs and towards their torso. They were freezing solid.

Without moving at all, Szayeis stared. The rubble turned to dust and the ice shattered and then dissolved into puddles on the floor.

The Djinn stumbled back into the tunnel, in completely solid form, wounded and bleeding as magnetically accelerated steel bolts ripped through its body, its wounds attempted to heal quickly, but it couldn’t keep up with the sheer firepower. As it stumbled and fell on its back, its left arm was ripped clean off, one of the bolts just passing by both Logan and Szayeis, leaving them to feel the shockwave of the rogue round, making Logan’s coat move with the gust of air.

“Ugh, fine.” Logan grunted, raising his arm again.

However, before he did anything, Szayeis glanced at him and smiled, “Teleport that man, and he will come out the other side in shreds.”

His hand quickly shifts to Szayeis. He knows, it won’t do anything major, but it will disorient him. Szayeis suddenly felt like he was coming apart, his body dismantling atom by atom, and coming back together again, right in front of Logan.

The slipped out of his fingers as it was quickly kicked aside, clangs echoing throughout the tunnel as the cane skirted across the concrete. Logan’s hand shot out and grabbed Szayeis by the throat. He knew it was momentary, as the Nightwalker could easily slip through his fingers if he wanted to, unless he had already accepted his fate.

The cane slid across the floor of the tunnel, and then dematerialized. One of Szayeis’ hands moved up and wrapped its fingers around the wrist of the seeming human. His other arm drew back, as if holding a spear, and thrust forwards. Something wild had come into the nightwalker’s eyes, like a mixture of remembered fear, hatred, disgust, and rage.

As Logan noticed it, the cane would already be impaled through his torso, below his heart, not hitting anything vital. The nightwalker exhaled slowly, and as he did so the tension in his body slowly seeped away and the look in his eyes first became a dull flame, then embers, before extinguishing.

“Let go, Logan,” he said, as if his throat was not being crushed, his voice entirely unaffected. “You wish to fight, but you have already lost. Besides, if you kill me, you lose far more, and as I said, I will not be signing your contract.”

The cane’s head pulsed inside the ‘human’s’ body, emitting slowly escalating sound waves. “In approximately 5 seconds I will liquify your body. Withdraw.”

During all this, Darius had been focusing on his magic. He ignored the pain coursing through his veins and continued, his shadow twisting then shifting. It raced up his legs and darkened his usually brightly orange fur as it swallowed him. Sounds of bones cracking and breaking were heard causing Boris to step back in worry, the Kitsune’s figure taking a new shape. He was on all fours with his fox like form covered with what appeared to be spiky fur and a larger head, the gaps in mass filled in by shadow like canvas covering the holes.

With no thought in his head, Darius lunged forward at Logan’s seemingly exposed back. His large muzzle dipped with teeth flashing then went to sink into the shoulder.

Logan took the cane with his free hand, and slowly pushed it out, teetering on the 5 seconds as the head of the cane came out and the hole began to heal itself. “Go ahead. Do it.”

“I take no joy from this,” he said, and then promptly he reorganized the spell matrix of his spell, liquified both of Logan’s arms and blasted him back, straight at Darius’ mouth. He landed on his feet and tapped the cane against the ground, immediately feeling his entire body relax as his form returned to its more...malleable natural state, though it retained the same appearance.

Instead of landing in Darius’ mouth, what was left of Logan’s body exploded in a shower of blood and gibs, sending shards of bone matter into Darius’ mutated face as he passed through the cloud of blood.

Darius’ jaws snapped down on nothing. Cuts of where the bone sliced into him gave a crimson taint to his dark fur and scratched at his eyes, digging one stubborn piece out. His haunches were still raised while his head turned about in alert, seeing anything besides Szayeis to rip into pieces.
Boris stepped forward, his eyes narrowed on the beast before him, “Darius…”

The fox’s head jerked about and settled on the human mage, his teeth still displayed in a feral fashion. Darius’ paw took a step towards Boris.

Unfazed by the gore, Szayeis lifted the cane and tapped Darius’ nose and, in a gesture that Aeris was sure to feel, drew on the girl’s unique healing power and weaved it with an illusion. The fox would feel an overwhelming wave of calm and relief suffuse him, and any primal rage that remained would find no one ‘cept Szayeis, to target, as Boris had become invisible, hidden by an illusion. “Wake, child,” he said firmly, yet, his senses kept track of his surroundings. After all, the man had talked up his abilities and this had felt too easy.

Darius shuddered and his eyes settled on Szayeis, darkness swirling and breaking the usually golden irises. The ripples of shadow embedded and gradually faded when the energy of the healing caused it to retract back, no longer present. Awareness and intelligence took its place causing Darius’ figure to begin to crack, shift and revert back to his original shape. The kitsune was on his knees as he trembled quietly, weakened by his push past his limits, and still covered in whatever bone attached itself to his flesh. Usually it would’ve been healed when he shapeshifted back, but even the wound from the arrow by Krysta hadn’t vanished.

“Is… is he gone?” Darius asked in a raw and shaken voice.

The cloud of blood from Logan’s explosive exit remained suspended in the air. Suddenly, the sickening sound of twisting meat echoed within the tunnel. Within the cloud, a body was forming, very rapidly.

The torso formed first along with the head, its dead eyes staring deeply into Szayeis’ as its limbs grew. Clearly, Logan was not human. At least in the natural sense of the word. “I’m disappointed.” Its voice gargled as the organs were still forming. “I was hoping that we would use good old fists instead of vis…” As he spoke his voice became more and more normal until the end of his sentence, when he fully formed.

“But… this does conclude my test…” Logan said with a smile, his clothes reforming from the shreds left by his own suicide. “You would make quite the asset for Armax. You held your ground despite the possibility of death, and called out an unfair contract. Well played, Mr. Aka’Aeria.” Logan seemed far more polite than before. Was this a test? Or was he trying to fool Szayeis?

Szayeis’ eyes shifted over to what would be a gruesome sight for most, but was sadly not for him. “Ah, so my instincts were correct, you’re not human,” he said, as if it was common sense. Of course, he couldn’t help but wonder what the man really was. “I see, so you expect me to ally with you, now that you’ve attempted to kill me? Amusing.”

However, while he said the word, he did not smile, instead he glanced at Darius, “No, but it appears the conflict has been solved, in a fashion.” Sighing a moment he shook his head and then, finally, smiled slightly--something occurring to him. “It’s rather funny that you felt it necessary to test me. You’d think the fact that I’m an internationally recognized criminal and threat to human society would be enough to convince you. Especially considering the fact that I still roam free despite having accrued the hatred of so many.”

“Nonetheless, well played. However...” he began, trailing off. As he did so, his cane slipped down in his hand and struck the ground again. The smile remained on his face as he met Logan’s eyes. For a very brief moment an excruciating pain would resound throughout the inhuman man’s body, before--as swiftly as it had appeared--subsiding. “...it appears you have taken in a spell matrix.” His smile widened.

Logan winced slightly at the nudge of pain, his hands still in his pockets. “I guess I deserve that for playing you.” He took a hand out of his pocket, and placed it on his chest where the cane originally stabbed him. A strange purple light beamed on the spot, and the matrix was dismantled. “But there is a cure for everything.”

“Now… to the real reason I’m here.” Logan walked up to the trio. “We both want to get rid of the Prae, but we have different ideas as to how we can go about that. Darius and I, wish to avoid needless casualties, you wish to make it hurt for them, no matter the cost. What if we could combine our efforts, and find a middle ground?”

“I’m listening,” he said, his smile shifting to a considerably more conservative look of amusement. It appeared that the businessman was in fact capable of speaking his language. Granted, he’d almost been told how to. Testing him had truly been a waste of time, but no matter.

“Apologies for the needless violence. But there are a few… imitators out there. Wanted to make sure you were the real thing, even if it did take some time off your busy schedule.” He took a look at Darius for a moment, realizing his suit was practically destroyed. “Need to send this man a nice suit…” He said seemingly to himself.

“So, back on topic. I have the information network that you need to get your hands on the right Prae, while you have the manpower to get the job done. I have the hardware you need, and you have the influence to spread the resistance’s cause. Etcetera and etcetera.” Logan paused as he thought on what to say next. “But let’s not bore each other with the details. My conditions are that we avoid innocent casualties. I’m assuming that yours, are to find the Prae responsible for your unfortunate run in with the Prae…” He watched Szayeis’ reaction. “Apologies if I have brought up bad memories. But your past isn’t exactly hidden away. I came across some Licentia that mentioned your name when asked about their previous encounters with the Prae. I can find and get you the people responsible. How you deal with them, is up to you.”

Initially, he was receptive nodding thoughtfully and listening whilst keeping a close eye on Darius’ condition. It was surely a good thing he’d left Aeris at the Fox’s mansion, the thought made him smile slightly, but it didn’t last, for in the next moment words he hadn’t heard from any human mouths were uttered. His vis surged, his jaw muscles tightened, and he forced himself to breath deeply in an attempt to disperse the cocktail of dangerously explosive, negative emotions. Through gritted teeth he responded, “I would ask, that you never speak of that again,” the nightwalker said as--slowly--his vis retreated from the environment around them.

“Fair enough.” Logan nodded casually. He thought it would trigger him, but there was no way around mentioning it. It was the core of his motivations, and it was an important thing to note. His motives were tied heavily to his emotions, and that’s something he wished to test in their little squabble. He saw his eyes and how his rage manifested. Logan could tell it would be far worse for the Prae he would hand over to Szayeis in the future.

Taking another moment or two to calm himself, Szayeis took in deep breaths until he could, properly converse without having the constant urge to KiLL, he winced slightly at the intrusive thought, his mind clearing of red. He cleared his throat, “Regardless, I do think that sounds far more reasonable than your prior suggestion. I would like to...” he gave Logan a look before continuing, “...that what we are doing is still effectively treason and rebellion. These things tend to get messy.”

He paused again and then sighed, managing a slightly weak chuckle, something that made him irritated though he showed it not at all. “I can temper the vast majority of my plans to...minimize casualties, but I’ll have you know there will be chaos. As to your offer.”

He paused for emphasis, his pupils narrowing to slits, “I do not need help, dealing with the prae.” The words said, Szayeis’ expression lightened and he nodded his head to the man, before he knelt down and, in a rare gesture of kindness, placed his hand on Darius’ side and gave the Fox a considerable pulse of vis. When he was done, he spoke again, “Boris, get to ground and call ahead to the mansion, he’ll be needing treatment when he arrives. Find a way back on your own, I’m taking Darius, he’s too weak to walk.”

Boris looked undecided as he watched the exchange between the Fox and the stranger, but nodded, “Alright, just...nevermind.”

Shaking off everything that happened, he began to rush past the bizarre man that literally been blown apart and reformed like some inhuman thing. In moments his figure vanished into the darkness toward the surface.

Meanwhile, Darius’ figure quivered at the touch on reaction then eased up. His golden eyes, dancing with confusion and curiosity, hadn’t left Szayeis as if staring at the nightwalker might yield information. However, nothing came naturally. When the vis pulsed, Darius let out a soft, vulpine whimper which sounded more like a squeak then focused on ignoring the pain. His breathing was heavy as he listened to Szayeis, acknowledging the holder of his pact’s will.

“I can deal with all the paperwork that comes up from our meddling.” Logan said as Boris made his way out. “And I don’t doubt your ability with dealing with the Prae. Like I said, I’m leaving that up to you. But of course, not all the Prae. That falls under the needless casualties part. But I can explain the reasons at another, more appropriate time.” He reached into his trench coat, and handed Szayeis his business card. “Give me a call when you are ready and have plenty of time in your schedule. We must discuss plans.”

“You and I will have a discussion over your… methods later,” Darius managed to force out at Logan, his tone showed his irked mood over the whole situation.

“That we will, Darius…”

With things more or less squared away, Szayeis simply nodded to the man and took the card, using more basic vis manipulation to slip it into a pocket somewhere. “Noted,” he said in acknowledgement, before he stood and then began pulling shadows from their surroundings. Boris appeared to already be gone, surely finding a way to call the mansion.

Szayeis sighed as he looked down at Darius, before shaking his head and continuing the process it took for him to properly transport the Fox to his home. After all, normal beings were not built to shadow walk in the normal fashion as nightwalkers were.

A crack of lightning was heard as a Rift ripped open in front of Szayeis and Darius. “Save yourself the vis. Call it a small part of me making it up to both of you for earlier events.” On the other side, they could see the bedroom of Darius’ mansion.

Szayeis’ eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his senses analyzing the rift for a moment, “Hmm, very well,” he said, and rather than engulf them, the shadows merely picked Darius up and carried him through the portal, after which Szayeis followed, vanishing into a shadow.

Briefly, he used his senses and the dark of night to notify him of Darius’ status, finding him safely in his mansion. Content with this, he departed entirely, heading off to recuperate and take care of other business. It was going to be an interesting day.

Walking from the shadows of a not so abandoned apartment, the nightwalker's form immediately dissolved, suffusing the darkness within the room and subsequently devouring its inhabitants and any evidence of their lives. When he was finished, which was rather quickly really, he reconstituted his favored form and stepped out onto the balcony to look out over the city. It was in this very moment that something abnormal occurred.

Vis flooded the entirety of the complex that Szayeis now dwelled within. It was likely familiar to the Nightwalker as it washed over his form, its strongest concentration centered just out of his line of sight. There was no voice, no verbal communcation, simply the immense amount of vis that rolled off of the individual in that direction.

There was a brief moment where he felt alarm, but in almost the same moment it became surprise. In response a small smile formed on his lips and he leaned forwards, hands grasping the railing of the balcony in front of him, head bowed. The manipulativeness, the deceit, it fell away, and suddenly it was as if tension visibly fled from his body. It was the sort of thing that no one would realize was there until it was gone, so subtle was it that even Darius who had grown up around the nightwalker, may not have recognized Szayeis after the transition.

For a moment there was only silence, and then he opened his mouth, a smile still on his lips. "Hello sister," he said.

The gentle click of heels as they met hard floor resounded throughout the otherwise silent room, and on to the balcony. A pair of small, delicate white hands rested against the railing near Szayeis' own. The scent of lilac mingled with his cologne, as a veritable wall of purple blew out over the balcony's edge. "Hello, Szayeis." There was a smile in her voice, though he may only have been able to glimpse it through her hair. Her tone was soft, far more gentle than one would expect Szayeis' sister to sound, and it held a lul to it as if it were able to calm a great storm.

"I've missed you."

In response there came an almost harsh, and certainly bitter, chuckle. "I would have visited if you told me where you go when you disappear," he replied, refraining from looking up at her. Yet, despite his attitude, there was relief in him, and comfort that he could really only feel when his twin was around--which was sadly quite infrequent.

A small, sad chuckle fell from her lips, and she leaned forward on the balcony. The black garb she wore coming into view for Szayeis to see out of his peripheral vision. "I would have told you had I known where I was going, but at the same time, you can feel the vis pouring off of me; I'm changing. It's taking quite a lot of focus to keep from being a beacon to every magically inclined creature on this continent."

"Besides, I would only be a hindrance to you like this. You wouldn't be able to get stronger watching over me in this state."

He shook his head, "I guess I don't deserve the chance to pay you back for..." he exhaled sharply, clenching his teeth, but what would normally be rage was made mere irritant in her presence. It faded swiftly and he continued, "...before." He shook his head, pushed up from the railing, and looked at her, his eyes shifting color slightly--glowing--as he regarded her vis, rather than the shell she'd decided to wear. "You look well at least," he said, smiling a bit despite himself, before he turned and opened the glass pane door and walked back into the apartment. If and when she followed his cane would appear and he'd tap the ground.

Her vis, while not fully contained, would find itself hidden...at least for a time. The cane would vanish right afterwards.

"So...if you're here, there must be a reason, given your...condition," he said, the slightest hint of envy in his tone. He'd yet to transition a second time and it ate at him. Always had.

She sighed at Szayeis' words, a pang of guilt aching in her chest as she felt his irritation. It wasn't something that needed to be paid back, but she knew he wouldn't accept that. When he scanned her vis she turned to face him, her eyes changing from purple irises to simply appearing as though they were purple flames within her eye sockets.

She was reading him as well. When he spoke, she smiled, sensing a strong change in his vis. Whether he was aware of it, or not, he was getting stronger.

As he began to walk away, she followed, noting a different sensation as he tapped a cane she'd never seen before on the ground.

"I felt you. When you entered the city. My missing you wasn't a joke, brother." She sighed and walked toward his back, her hand gently resting between his shoulder blades. "The Prae presence is growing stronger here with each passing day, I'm running out of places to hide. I can't defend myself like this... I thought... if you were here, I might be able to..." She trailed off, unsure of what exactly she wanted to say, what information to give.

She didn't want to put him in any more danger than he already was. But, even as she thought that, she was already doing so by being in the same room as him. There was no taking back the action, however, not that she would.

He flinched slightly from the contact, a form of weakness, of vulnerability that he simply did not allow in his every day life, but today was apparently not like other days. "I didn't think it a joke," he said, his body adjusting slightly so that her hand pressed more firmly into his back. After the initial contact, it was soothing really. He knew she felt guilt from his words, part of him liked that he could get that out of her, that he could get any response out of her, but that was...that wasn't all of him.

It was kind of funny, everyone else saw him as a depraved lunatic. A monstrous murdering psychopath of incredible intelligence worthy of death and nothing else. Even his own kind saw him as something to be looked down upon. He was a being who had been conquered by another, unworthy of freedom or notoreity. Unworthy of respect.

But his sister...Nysi, she knew who he really was. She could see past the barriers he made as easily as he made new bodies, as easily as he made minds come undone, as easily as he killed. He was scarred and those marks--though not physical--that marred his psyche and his vis...they ached. They always ached.

He'd had them checked once, by...a friend, a certain doctor that he almost trusted. Someone he knew he could at least rely on, even if he couldn't open himself to the licenti. It was a phantom sensation, not real. It was all in his head, and really that only made it worse.

As Szayeis remained silent, Nysi's body moved closer to his, her arms wrapping gently around his chest as she hugged him from behind, her face buried where her hand had originally been.

He swallowed hard and breathed in, "Thank you," he said as he exhaled, "I'm...not used to being open anymore." It was strange. He was often so removed from this state that he didn't even realize he was compartmentalizing his mind to make everything more tolerable, to make his emotions follow his logic, rather than the other way around. He wondered if anyone might appreciate his plans if they knew that beneath the calm exterior there was a beast that yearned only for destruction or at least silence and near solitude.

Muffled, Nysi's voice vibrated through his body, "You know you never have to thank me, Szay. We're family. We always will be."

"Family has...fallen away before, you're...something else," he replied, thoughts still racing through his mind. He remembered their elder brother now and his eyes narrowed, a low hum emanating from his body before he swallowed hard and let the tension go, let that part of their past go. He sighed, "You came to...ask for my help...and here you are, again, helping me." He gritted his teeth, frustrated.

She squeezed him, in a gentle, but firm sort of gesture. "We're twins, it's give and take, you know that. When you love someone, you share equal amounts of pain and happiness. You protect, and are protected." Her voice still vibrated through his body, her eyes closed as she relaxed more into his back.

"Mmm...I guess," he said non-commitally, a bit confused as he usually was by the sentiment. It was ironic, he was often a cruel despot, unforgiving, unrelenting, manipulative and destructive. Yet, he looked at the world and didn't always understand why people were cruel. He knew that most hadn't gone through things like him, so he just...didn't see how lesser evils could cause people to go down similar paths. Yet, at the same time, he'd made it happen, watched it destroy people, or watched people make the best of a terrible situation and make themselves better because of their circumstances. He'd broken people and he'd built them up--human, licentia, and even prae, it didn't matter. It could happen to any of them, regardless of their race.

None of it made any sense. He didn't make sense to himself, actually, not when he was open like this, not when he didn't have tunnel vision, not while he wasn't moving forwards, working towards a goal. He took a step forwards, breaking their embrace--and regretting it a moment after, "I...need to sit down," he said, before stumbling his way to a couch, and sliding down into it. He felt the human aspects of his form slipping away, melting, and he instantly pulled them into him, his body warping and shifting into the visage of a humanoid shadow--white eyes peering from a dark mask.

He leaned back, his face looking up at the ceiling. "Ugh," it was more a groan than a word as it came from his mouthless form.

When Szayeis pulled away from their embrace, Nysi balanced herself so that she didn't stumble. Her eyes followed her brother as he stumbled toward a couch and his form melted away. She smiled softly at him, though he wasn't looking at her, and her form melted away as well. What that revealed was a feminine humanoid white shape with a gaping hole in the chest which revealed an over-sized soul core of similar coloration to his own, eyes of violet glowing even more brightly due to the composition of her form.

After a moment or two of silence, she moved toward him soundlessly, her form taking up space next to him on the couch, her head resting against his shoulder weightlessly.

"Could've died today," he said with a disturbing casualness, her nearness comforting him, making his racing mind at least tolerable. "Of course, with what I'm doing I suppose that's every day, but today it was more...overt." He let out a long breath and then lifted an arm, bringing it around her, his head resting against hers slightly. He figured that if humans saw them they'd think them oddly intimate, but they wouldn't understand. Twins among licentia--even despite their vast populations--were relatively uncommon, and among nightwalkers they were exceedingly rare. Beyond even that...for a licentia to have reliable family members with no negative intentions--especially when was born into a nightwalker community, where everyone was out to manipulate everyone else for personal gain...well, you clinged to what you could get.

Szayeis had been lucky, in a way, he'd been born with a twin and they hadn't grown apart even in all their years of life. They'd bicker and argue at times, but they never drifted apart, even if distance did separate them more often than not. "It's becoming hard for you to hide, you said," he offered in an attempt to shift the focus of their conversation. He needed to pull himself together, he just didn't have time to feel lost and sorry for himself. He had a sister to help...and a race to oust and destroy.

At his words, Nysi's head rose slightly, but then he continued, and she sighed. "What are you doing?" The question wasn't irritated, or angry, but it did have a hint of worry within it. Even as he brought his arm around her, she could feel his mind working through something, though she didn't interrupt it, and instead waited out the long stretch of silence.

"They've found all of the hideouts I've used over the last six months, even with my trying to hide this enormous amount of vis that's pouring out of me. I can't maintain a form other than this one for any longer than a day, at most. And, I can't trust my ability to fight back because of the massive amount of fluctuations I'm going through." Her voice was tinged with fear, and subconsciously, she found herself moving closer to his side.

"I'm...making sure that the prae will never do what they did to me, to anyone else, ever again," he said, managing to keep the hatred from his voice, though he knew it was pointless, she knew it was there anyways. "Hmm, perhaps I could help, I'd have to have time, a few days. I can call on some friends, ask about vis containment, keep things vague. Ask around about...certain items, and build up a series of spell matrices. I can set up some warehouses for you in the meantime."

When her brother finally answered her question, she didn't say anything in response, prefering silence to words on that particular subject. As he started talking about what to do for her, she listened intently, carefully thinking over what he was offering. "So long as they're not near the slums, or anywhere near that fox's place, the Prae have bolstered searches around the former, and the latter is very territorial, I'd rather avoid other Licentia if I can."

At her second request he laughed slightly, "The Fox is contracted to me. If anything, he'd be forced to protect you, or suffer the consequences. Besides, he'll be weakened for awhile yet after tonight. Of course, if you insist, I'll do what I can. Three days, that's all I ask. If we can keep you safe and hidden that long, I'll have figured out something more...permanent. Something that hides you, or perhaps allows you to protect yourself. We'll see." With that goal cemented in his mind and expressed to her he sat up, careful not to fully dislodge her, and used his perception to look at her again.

The view was disconcerting, what with her soul core so exposed. Someone could just reach in and snatch it away...crush it. She'd be gone.

At the thought he felt a flash of rage...and profound sadness, and then he banished the emotions. The barriers were coming up, shifting back into place. Perhaps one day he wouldn't be able to let them down anymore...the idea scared him, so he filed it away...for now.

"If I'm to find you proper safe houses in that time I should get to work. This apartment will be the first," with that he stood, though he let her move from his shoulder first. Taking in a deep breath, the cane shifted into being, its form slipping out of his body to hover in the air before him. He placed a palm in front of it, aimed along its shaft, over the chamber that contained the soul core.

His vis began to flow through the chamber, through the crystal, and when it came out it was stronger, two to four times more potent in fact. The energy thinned out and began to arrange itself, spreading out slowly from the cane, each subsequent piece of the matrix pushing out those before it until the matrix filled the entire room. He locked it into place, drawing a small portion of his sister's fluctuating energy into it as he did so, and then locked the grid's form, completing it.

The air stilled, her vis stabilized, and where some had begun to leak from the barriers he'd erected several minutes earlier, now none escaped, instead it flowed throughout the matrix invisibly, the energy even bolstering the defenses. "This will protect you, it will hide you and, when I set up the others, it will allow you to transport yourself between safehouses at will without detection."

He turned his gaze to her.

Surprised, Nysi blinked, "The Fox is... contracted to you? How?"

He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes, "I saved his life," he responded cryptically.

"Mm..." Was her only response to his statement.

However, in response to his other statements, she nodded, "I'll give you the three days." When he moved away from the couch and began his work, she watched him curiously. She'd never seen him use something like this before, it intrigued her.

Once the spell matrix was in place, and he explained what it would do, she nodded, and rose from her place on the couch. Slowly, she moved toward him, her arms wrapping around his neck as she hugged him, vis from her core pouring into his body as she did so.

It was a strange feeling, to hug him like that, as he was basically in full contact with her core. At the same time, however, part of her didn't mind. He wouldn't hurt her himself, though he could cause her pain via his actions.

Rather than cause any discomfort, he wrapped his arms around her and, now stable, smiled, his mind well in order, and his emotions far less confused as a result. He squeezed her gently, as if he felt that she was fragile, and let some of his vis intermingle with hers for a moment, before separating--both physically and otherwise--from her embrace. "Good, then I'll make sure to make them count. I'll try to check in, but I can't promise. I can only promise that I'll find a way to help you."

When he separated himself from her hug a third time, she looked up at him, her form much smaller than his in stature. She smiled, somberly, "Szay, we've been apart for much longer than most of the current generation of Humans, or Prae, have been alive; I don't think a few days will do any harm. Though, I wouldn't be displeased with a visit."

He grinned, the thought amusing him more than a little. A human lifetime was hardly a sneeze for most licentia. One could blink and a whole generation of mankind would be gone when you opened your eyes. Such fleeting lives they had. "I'll do my best not to displease then," he said, his grin becoming a smirk, "Now, fair damsel, you stay put until I contact you. Don't try to use the transit channels until I say otherwise. Otherwise the matrix will eject you and that would be bad." He gave her exasperated look, and then, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze, he turned, donning his human visage in an instant, but before he could depart she spoke up, pulling his attention to her.

"Szayeis, wait." Nysi spoke up, her human visage covering her for a few moments.

"Mmm?" he said, turning to regard her, brow raised.

As he turned back around, she closed the distance between them, her body rising up onto the tips of her toes. In a fraction of a second before he could react, her lips connected with his.

A look of genuine surprise and confusion crossed his face for a moment before he accepted her gesture of affection and kissed her back, but only briefly. This was something he'd have to ruminate on.

When he drew away from her, there was evidence of crimson dusting her cheeks. Had she not been in a Human form, not only would that gesture have not been possible, but she also wouldn't be able to blush in the way she was. Nervousness wasn't something that was typical to her nature.

Usually, she'd be more... up front about what she wanted. In this case, however, that proved to be extremely difficult. Not because she thought what she wanted was wrong, but moreso because she didn't know what Szayeis would think of her feelings being on display in that way.

Unable to help himself, Szayeis chuckled lightly and shook his head before kissing her on the head, still smiling, amusement and just enough of a hint of pleasure in his eyes to inform her that he wasn't displeased.

Ruffling her hair lightly, he turned, waving over his shoulder with one hand, before he vanished into the night.

Through the bond that all twins shared, he thought, 'Be safe for the both of us, sister, and then all but the flicker of his presence was gone.

"No, you." Was her verbal response, as she shut the balcony doors, and locked every possible entrance she could find, her Human form falling away once more as the taste of his lips etched itself into her mind.

They would have to talk about that the next time he visited her, and part of her was dreading it. But, now wasn't the time to worry about that, she was going to have to find some way to entertain herself while he was gone.

Nasargiel stood as he was commanded by his excellence, before she turned her back towards him and gazed out of the window from her office. The city and this world were new to Nasargiel, from aesthetics to stench, it certainly reminded him that it was not his home world. His majesty after staring out into the distance of what she called “a human city”, spoke up to inform Nasargiel that this city and world would one day be theirs to call home.

Ais gently turned her head just enough for Nasargiel to catch glimpse of her next wishes, which she had followed up with in a gesture to let Nasargiel know it was time for him to join her side. His feet lifted from position and with a strong gait, his steps spoke with confidence. Whatever the bidding of his Exeo, he would answer it.

Following his approach, Ais informed him of her expectations, it was clear to him what his role in her plan was. Nasargiel, if proven, will be the instrument she wields her power from directly. A voice, a body, eyes, and ears, she can trust…if proven.

Nasargiel caught his majesty’s glance once more as her face slipped into a more serious expression than what she had been showing before. A face that immediately signaled to Nasargiel that even though she saw potential in him…he was still expendable if he did not perform. Ais then turned her sights back onto the city through her looking glass from hundreds of feet above the city floor. Nasargiel also turned his focus toward the looking glass and his focus out into the city streets where people had been running, and driving around.

Ais began to finally brief Nasargiel on what she would like from him, a moment that he honestly had been anticipating anxiously for quite some time since he was assigned to her. It was finally the moment where Nasargiel might find himself in a position to test the abilities he has trained on for so many years. Ais turned toward him, looking at him in the eye and reassuring him that the order he had received was for the greater good of Prae and their vision of what Medius should be.

Nasargiel did not flinch nor hesitate as her demeanor became more stern and deliberate with every word of his excellence holding some tone of assertiveness. He only transferred his body so that he may face his majesty and stare her in the eyes,
“My Exeo, I do not question your vision of our future, nor do I contemplate the morality of our decisions. I believe that we have Prae’s best interest in mind, and tough choices will need to be made in order for us to achieve progress. I understand and understood before accepting this position alongside you that there would be such choices for us to make. It is why not all of us are in your position, but know that I support you, your position, and your vision.”

Nasargiel paused to let his Exeo process what he was saying before adding on, “I am however unfamiliar with current events in this world, and have a few questions to ask if I may be so bold.” His eyes remained trained on his Exeo’s eyes as her eyes remained on him, his gaze would not be defined as disrespectful, but it was one of genuine feeling, behind them showed Nasargiel’s passion, truthfulness, and loyalty. It was his way of communicating to her that he took this very seriously and intended to not disappoint.

“Now as of these protests and what could potentially manifest into riots, do we know the reasoning behind their protests, and are local OCPD authorities willing to support our intervention if one is necessary? Also is there information on who is organizing this rally, or how many humans would be in attendance?”