Jack chuckled as he witnessed Mithias staring into the sunset. No doubt the man, or monster, was filled with sentimental thoughts. The sun seemed to bring those up in everyone who looked at it. He had captured the vampire himself at Kilo Point, a fantastic discovery. However, when Magnus had crippled Terebithia with his armor, and broken in, he had been forced to surrender, and join Magnus. The unfortunate side effect of this action, taken to protect his life and his work, was that he had been forced to relinquish both Martin and Mithias from captivity before he'd been able to extensively test them.
Of course, Magnus's fate had already been decided. Jake was an intelligent man of rational and practical thought, and there were few things he got emotional about. However, Magnus had not only broken into Terebithia, but defiled Saya, attempting to 'recover' her. Jack's smile did not waver, but any close observer could see his knuckles turn white, as he thought of the horrific deeds performed by his current 'leader'. Magnus would suffer and die, and it would be by Jack's hand, that he knew. He was patient, he would wait until the opportunity presented itself, but he would avenge Zero, and his darling Terebithia. He had placed bombs in several of Magnus's vampire followers, placed within the mechanical hearts that were such a popular thing right now. He had prepared virusses for all of his mechanical defenses, and he had created holding chambers capable of holding Magnus for as long as might be needed.
Magnus would suffer before he died.
However, there were more pressing matters at hand. Vengeance had waited twenty years, it could wait another twenty. Jack himself had had many vampires to pick from, among those that weren't loyal to Magnus, and his experiments had always been full. While Gabriel had eluded him, simply observing Martin had been quite revolutionary, as well as Mithias, who had ironically been placed on the Terebithia. Jack was quite sure Magnus intended Mithias to watch Jack, make sure he didn't do anything all too horrible to the vampires that were loyal to Jack, but Mithias only had so many eyes, and Terebithia was everywhere. Furthermore, as Terebithia was used as a symbol of power, it had to constantly patrol all over the country, giving Jack many opportunities.
The fake smile still on his face, Jack moved over to the vampire who was both his subject and his warden. "Dear Terebithia is almost ready for another attack. Very soon this battle will be at it's end." It was stated as both boast and fact, as Jack knew and loved the sheer firepower that the Terebithia held. The four missile launchers could make short work of almost any attack force, and any intelligent fighting force retreated the moment it entered sight. Of course, sometimes, such as now, they got either incredibly stupid, or incredibly cocky. "my cooks have prepared a special meal. It's been exactly twenty years since you've joined the side of the angels. I believe it's time for a little celebration." The words were laced with underlying venom, a tone of smug knowledge and superiority. Jack had been there, twenty years ago, and he had watched Mithias's betrayal. He loved to remind him of all the innocent lives that action had taken, because the pain on the vampire's face was simply delicious.
Dresden shot forward, his fist hitting the young vampire in the face as he was launched backwards. The force of the blow cracked the bloodling's skull and twisted his spine as he was sent into a nearby wall. However, Dresden's attention was already gone, turning as he grabbed the arm of another vampire, wrapping it around another vampire's leg, breaking both of the limbs. he caught blow after blow, shattering the bones with his mighty hands, before kicking out. Vampires screamed and shouted in frustration as they tried to hurt the warrior, but even a vampire can't punch with broken arms.
Then, in frustration, one of the vampires grabbed a sword and ran at Dresden. Dresden simply smiled as the vampire swung the blade at him. His right hand moved up, and before the sharpened edge could hit his neck, his fingers closed around the flat sides of the blade, stopping it dead. For a moment, the vampire that had made the attempt on Dresden's life struggled in vain to push the weapon further. Then Dresden's left fist blurred upwards, shattering the skull of the eager vampire. Before his body could hit the floor to regenerate, Dresden dropped the blade and reached out with his right arm, crushing the vampire's brain.
As the vampire died, Dresden looked around at the stacks of broken and twisted bodies around him, the twenty young ones who had accepted his challenge. A few had died, but most of them remained alive. Dresden preferred not to kill such enterprising youths. While he had had to squash their arrogance, he would temper their flames, until they were hot enough to burn. Few chose to train under Dresden, and those that did often died. However, those that lived were among the strongest, and wildest, Dresden's group of personal killers. There was a reason he was feared even by his comrades.
Dresden reflected on his current life as he walked down the hallway. After Magnus had finally taken down Kilo Point, Dresden had been shamed. He had proclaimed himself the Chosen One, the one who would bring down SOLDIER with nothing but his bare hands. He had led the first strike against SOLDIER, and he had thought it would be his hands that would deal the last. However, Magnus had outdone him not with strength but with diplomacy, rallying many more vampires to his side. It had been Magnus that led the horde of bloodlings in the crusade to wipe out SOLDIER, not Dresden. Dresden remembered clearly as he had walked out of his cave into the sunlight, knowing full well that he had failed. He had charged, on his own, into the hands of SOLDIER, wishing for death to take him during the battle.
Obviously, he had not died. Bloodied and beaten, he'd been filled with bullet wounds. his bones were cracked and he had been more exhausted than ever. He remembered staring down the barrel of the gun, and grinning, challenging the man to take his life. Knowing that he would die with honor, at least. However, at that moment Magnus had stormed the walls, charging over them with all his men. He had come the moment he'd heard Dresden were to give away his life, and raced across the countryside. His life had been saved that day, and although still the shame burned him, he would not let his life been taken when Magnus would just save him again. He might not be the Chosen One, but he would still focus his strength against those who hunted his kind.
As Dresden walked, he found Rhyss walking down the hall, together with a group of vampires. Without a word, he followed them. He knew what kind of party this was, the look of bloodlust was clear in each man's eye. He smiled, as he walked, still covered in the blood of his previous fight. None would object to his presence without challenging him to a fight, and very few were prepared to do such a thing. Dresden gave knee only to Magnus himself, to whom he owed his life, and none other could order him around without facing the wrath of his fists. He needed not to know where they were going, or who they were killing, or why. They were moving with Magnus's orders, and they were moving with killing intent. That was all he needed.
Gabriel walked through the city, smilign as he sipped from his eemingly ever-present cup of red wine. He strode, fully dressed in an elegant victorian suit, through the busy marketplace, and not a single head turned. A simple illusion. Not to make him invisible, nothing so obtrusive. no, to bend the human mind one must know how it works. He had simply made himself unremarkable. He would be looked at and forgotten a moment later. People wouldn't focus on him, because nobody cared. He simply wasn't important. He walked through the crowd, right past the vampire set to guard Magnus's house.
The human mind was not nearly as efficient as many would like to believe, The brain struggles to interpret the signals recieved by the senses. Electrical signals sent through a vast network in the body. An interpretation formed from fragments of information, twisted and distorted by lenses of emotion, preconception and bias. Humans were, by nature, unable to truly see, to truly hear, their very minds unable to control themselves. Sad little beings, constantly searching for new information, for truth, for meaning with their tiny little lives, unable to even see past the lies they told themselves.
In his youth, so many decades ago, Gabriel had searched for trtuth. To see past the veil that even he cast before his own eyes, the lies his mind whispered, without even knowing of it. His senses were greater than any others, his knowledge superior to even the largest human library at the time. Surely, he had believed, he of all beings would be able to find truth, clarity. He had traveled from country to country, visited wise man after wise man, gone through practise after practise. His entire life had been devoted to seeking the truth, to be able to see the world through unshrouded eyes. To put aside all the lenses his brain had created, all the figures in the way, all the walls between him and absolute clarity. And after all of that, he got a single glimpse.
The lenses were there for a reason. That single glimpse had been boggling. It had been the world as it truly was, too beautiful to comprehend in it's complexity and yet bare, chilling, burning. He had seen so little, he had been so blind. All the lies, all the conceptions had failed him. The arrogance of power, of important. The instinct for survival, the part of his brain that told him he was more than an insect, scrambling in one of the far corners of the universe, a speck about to die out. He had stared into the abyss, and it had stared back into him. Man and vampire alike were not ready for true clarity. They never really would be. Those lies served a purpose, they shrouded the living from the true horrifying beauty of life.
However, all this was unimportant at the moment. Magnus marched up the stairs, a ghost walking through the house, a face soon forgotten. He'd strengthened the illusion, he was reduced to a noise, not even a face in the crowd anymore. A flutter of light, a ghost seen from the corner of the eye, a sight none would remember, even if they saw it. He was, to anyone in the room, not even there, until he chose to reveal his presence. He walked into Magnus's bedroom chamber, hiding himself from all senses but those possessed by his prodigal son. And even his son would not notice the opening of the door. It would be as if he had appeared from thin air, teleported, a laughable idea. He stood there, before his son and the 'Chosen One'. "Magnus! Martin! It's been such a long time." Gabriel smiled brightly.
In all his years of existence, he had never found true meaning. Never again had he dared truly open his eyes and See. He had not discovered the meaning of life, he had not discovered why vampires had been born unto humanity. While he knew a great many secrets, the mysteries of life and death remained mysteries even to the Vampire God. However, what he had learned, was that he loved the lies that shrouded him. The little tricks played by the mind, the little pleasures in life. He held onto his life with both hands, and cherished every moment, loving every immortal year he spent. He savored every drop of blood that slid down his throat, and he had visited all the wonders of life. He had bedded a billion women, and performed every vice. He had seen every world wonder, and fought for every cause. He had lived in castles, and begged for scraps. He had loved and hated, and he had played out every game.
And more than anything, Gabriel had feared the day he would lose it all.
It moved through the night, invisible to all who would look. Even the eyes of a vampire would find nothing to see, It moved through the darkness like a glimpse of death, the silent killer. Footsteps, practised to the extreme, made not a single sound as the killer moved over the rooftops. One who were to see this creature, by some miracle, might wrongfully believe it to be a man. For it had the form of the man, and it walked like a man, and it talked like a man. However, a man is a being of thoughts and dreams, a being of life and blood. A man is a creature of love and hate, raging passions that clash and burn in what is known as the endless struggle of life. It aspires to greatness, and sinks to the deepest lows, it works or slacks off, it moves through the world like a song, life a repeating note, moving through a changing world.
The killer was no man, for this creature was hollow within. It did not hope, it did not love. It did not hate, it did not fear. The hollow creature did not live, not truly, as one would expect life to be lived. It existed, none could doubt that, and it moved, it's victims would have attested to it. However, one could not consider it's existence, it's mindless series of murders, it's almost robotic trance, life. It was a hollow creature, gracefully and nimbly jumping from roof to roof, alleviated above those that were it's prey. It dropped won, and two humans went down, knocked out. No permanent brain damage. It moved through the well-lit corridors, and moved past the security. It's knowledge guided it to the center, where it could feel teh burning glow of energy.
The hollow creature placed the bomb with care, a tiny device. It was placed within the console, where nobody would look. It need not be a powerful bomb, it need not be a dangerous bomb. It need just be dangerous enough to start the chain reaction that the creature wanted. Or not wanted, that word did not apply to the creature. It had been instructed to perform a task, and that was a task it performed. It did not wish, it did not hope, those were things for the living. It simply acted, and did so with precision and skill that most would call inhuman.
The vaults were opened through high power charges, muffled by a layer of special plastic set up in the corridor. The plastic is taken down soon after the explosion, and a bar of uranium is retrieved from the vault. It isn't the target, but it made an excuse. The bomb would not be detected, and the bar would be the only thing seen missing. Soon the hollow man leaves the area, having broken in and out without a trace, without even a whisper. It looks back once, checking to see if it had been detected. And if another were to look through it's eyes, they would see the world in absolute clarity. For this hollow creature had not always been hollow. It's heart had been burned from it's chest by a world no longer shielded by lies.
