THE FORMIDABLES

#3 | THINGS, FALL APART...

- New World, Denmark, The Ashen Main Headquarters, Friday, 3:54pm.

"It's very crowded, even for a meeting in The Ashen." Raftar stated, looking around the room.

"Then it must be a very important meeting I presume. Every single assassin is present. Even the ones that are fodder." Lance pointed out.

"As well as the ones in training." Raftar said, referring to the group of 10-12 year olds standing in line in the front.

"Mm." Lance nodded.

All other assassins formed a large parade facing The Commander filling up the Titanic-wide hall. Lance and seven other elites stood in a horizontal line behind The Commander.

A woman in an ultramarine cloak, and her face covered in a silver volto mask which concealed including her eyes was walking around the parade handing out red volto masks to them. After she was done, she came up to the line of elites and offered them silver ones just like the one she was wearing.

"So why're we playing dress up?" Blood whispered to the woman who was handing the masks as he received his.

"Why don't you ask your father." He could feel her roll her eyes even though it was obscured by her mask.

Blood forced a smile, "of course." He put the mask on, clenching his fists by his side.

The cloaked elite came up to The Commander and offered him a gold mask. He brought his face forward instead and she understood, putting the mask on for him.

"Thank you, Night." The Commander thanked the cloaked assassin and she nodded and returned behind him in line with the other elites.

The hall was abuzz with murmurs for two reasons. One obviously because of the meeting itself, the reason was completely unknown.
Second was why The Commander would line up all the elites behind him and not at the last line of the assembly as it was supposed to be.

Then again, ever since this Commander, Gerald Heath assassinated the former commander, many things had changed. However Lance already knew what was going on in his mind.
The elites were situated at the last line so that if they planned to kill the commander, he would have time to react. The Commander having them stand right behind him was a sign of fearlessness and also... a form of intimidation. He was scared, but doing something so bold would make the elites think twice, things like; "he must be stronger than all of us combined if he's being so bold." Lance almost let out a laugh.

"Apparitions of death, legions of death, soul hagglers... not my favorite." The Commander laughed a little, making everyone uncomfortable. "Was that not funny?" Uncomfortable laughs mumbled throughout the crowd for a few seconds.
"We are an urban legend to a lot, some, unfortunately, believe we exist after a retired government executive decided to write a novel based on us. Shamelessly, the government pushed this book into the school curriculum. It's titled; The Fortress of Death which was what The Ashen was known as 67 years ago. Do you know what the government is trying to convey to us by doing this?"

"They're obviously joking about us, they don't take us seriously." One Assassin among the assembly said.

"Who said that? Please come forward." The Commander asked. The assassin came up to The Commander who placed his hands on the man's shoulders, massaging them. "Tell me, what is your kill count, division, and when did you start?"

"109. Division F. I started last week." He answered proudly.

"Impressive. You've survived this long for how unintelligible you sound." The Commander had already grown pissed, his hands inching for the assassin's neck.