Swirls of orange painted the skies over Aegean City in the late afternoon. A pleasant sight for the man in green as he and Joanne walked over wooden boards by the beach. Under different circumstances, he would gladly sit on the boulders near the coast and watch the sun go down while waves clash against the mighty rocks. A few fishing boats were tied to posts, eagerly awaiting their owners' next trip.
Blue and yellow lights hanged from cables tangled between kiosks and steel posts. Beyond the sand's reach lay a Ferris wheel with turquoise veins twisting around its frame. As the two strolled past it, they caught sight of Suilah's future stage.
Frozen above gentle waves was a gigantic glowing sigil, with a pattern of circles, curves, and thin lines resembling a web of corals. Completing its stage look was a fan-like structure at its back, facing the sea beyond. Said structure appeared to be made of ice, modeled to look like a large wave about to envelop the sigil, frozen just before crashing down upon it.
Joanne's eyes glinted with the stage's icy glow. She whistled, impressed by the sight.
"Well, I'll be... Suilah's sirens did a dang fine job castin' such a big magic circle," she exclaimed, crossing her arms.
The man in green nodded, his gaze fixated on the intricate, ancient writing sprawled on the sigil's border.
"An excellent show of their mastery over water magic. If I recall, Suilah taught her own oracle and her followers how to manipulate and summon water, bend it to their will."
"Pfft, would be dang useful if all guardians were so charitable like that. Ol' Khiboreas don't bother teachin' nana Larya ice magic."
The man sighed and ambled toward a smooth rock stranded on the beach. "Humans do not have much aptitude for magic, as unfortunate as it is. Compared to their ancestors, I hear it is rare for one to be born with such an ability."
Joanne kicked a small mound of sand, "Tch. Guess we got the short end o' the stick then."
"Not quite. I lived most of my life isolated in the Isle of Trusa, save for the occasional travels. During those trips, however, I have observed many a marvel created by humans. This city, for example. Though not to my tastes, it is an impressive feat for a race that lost much of its magical origins, yes?"
She took a step and turned to face Aegean city's bustling core. Its skyscrapers stood tall against the sunset, ever shining, ever closer to touching the heavens.
"Gotta agree with ya there," she murmured.
With their break concluded, the two made their way to the very end of the boardwalk. Tall buildings were replaced by humble homes and apartments. Joanne recalled Marco's talk of the old complex, scanning the abandoned section of the city. Though life still beat within this portion, its neglect showed through its unkept roads, cracked and boarded windows, and vanishing paint.
Joanne scanned the buildings on both sides of the road, planting her feet firmly on the asphalt with a gasp.
"Yo, check it out, I think this might be the one!" She hissed, pointing at a red three-story complex. Just as Mrs. Diderot described, its foggy windows peered through the brick walls. The man in green could not help squinting his eyes and frowning with suspicion. The building lacked signs of life, much less a demonic presence. Its main doors lacked the scratch marks he sought after, as did the lingering smell of incense he expected.
"Something does not bode well... Joanne, are you certain this is the correct location?"
Joanne stuttered, "Why, well, I thought it was our best shot, based on what they said n' the call. Dunno many other places with glazed windows, 'less you wanna check 'em out too."
The man in green gazed at the coast to his left, and the narrow road to his right. The street lay barren and lead to a building with rows of lights flashing amidst the growing darkness. He walked over to Joanne, who jolted ever so slightly at his approach.
His expression ever placid, he asked, "That tower down the road, what is it? It emits such intense colors; frankly, it burns my eyes."
She let out a short cackle and smirked, "That, my friend, is Aegean City's one n' only Emerald Casino. Excellent place if you're lookin' to lose all your life savings in three hours or less, guaranteed!"
His gut begged at him to inspect it, despite his mind convincing him otherwise. It was far too striking to be a good hiding place for the Nether Oracle and his hostages. However, in the recesses of his thoughts, he could not shake the idea of it being excellent. A place his enemies would never expect, much less wander into. The Diderot couple could pass off as casino visitors, hiding within any dark rooms or secret passages it could have.
"Hmm, this will come across as far-fetched, but... are you aware of any hidden pathways or rooms the casino employees might use?" He asked, feigning a casual tone.
Joanne's eyes widened, regarding him with slight suspicion. "Well, I ain't gone there in years, but I hear the casino's older than Aegean City itself! It's the only thing that survived the ol' city's demolition. But that's what, a hundred years ago? Wouldn't surprise me seein' rooms full o' creepy crawlies under it."
Hypnotized by the flashing green and gold lights in the distance, he made up his mind. He had to investigate the place, or else the nagging feeling would not let him be. Taking a deep breath, he confessed to Joanne his suspicions.
"Ya know, had a feelin' you were gonna say that. You got this shine in your eyes when you're thinkin'. Kinda freaky, no offense."
"Is that so? Most intriguing," he said, beginning their walk down the ever-narrowing road ahead of them. He clutched at the satchel, holding an orb yearning to be completed.
The sounds of car honks rang in the distance, undeterred by the approaching nighttime. The city lit up with life as a turquoise light rose upon the skyscrapers, transforming them into ice stalagmites. As the two made their way down the road, a few children zipped by them in bicycles giggling and hollering at each other. The last kid had a mini yellow dragon gliding beside him, leaving small sparks of electricity behind.
"Just like lil' Zippy. I miss that fella," Joanne grinned, a gust of nostalgia rushing by her.
As they approached the luxurious building, the man immediately focused on its windows. Most of them were flower-shaped mosaics, but the glazed, non-lit windows on a small rectangular portion to the side caught his sight. Its color matched the rest of the casino's golden walls, but its paint had begun peeling; its sheen worn out, as if its bigger, prettier sibling drained its life to sustain itself. It could pass for an employee-exclusive area, were it not for the rusted, barely working door at its front.
The man wiped his gloves before grabbing the moldy doorknob. One second later, it lay in his hands and on the floor as bits of corroded, brown iron. He slowly turned to look at Joanne, who was just as stunned as he. Several seconds went by while both internalized what occurred.
"Well, that was rather simple," he concluded, throwing the pieces aside. "Shall I leave this poor excuse of a door to you?"
"Pfft, it'll go down if I just breathe on it, but, why not make it a lil' flashy!" she replied, cracking her knuckles with an eager smirk.
Both nodded and the man took a step back. Her arm swiped at the door like a loaded spring, giving it no time to brace for it. Defeated, the door slammed onto the carpet inside, softening its fall.
A humid, chilling wind poured from inside. Though they had yet to take a step inside, it felt suffocating, as if it scratched at their throats. Joanne looked back at the man, walking past the fallen door.
"Your instincts better be right, cuz we're straight up trespassin' here," she muttered, wrinkling her nose from the musty smell.
Just as the man in green stepped into the door frame, his body froze. It was faint, yet enough for him to tense up; his heart began racing for its life.
Sweet, gentle incense filled his nostrils.
Grimacing, he looked to his side. A playful, thin line of crimson smoke floated past his head.
Taking deep, sharp breaths, he slowly uttered, "Joanne, I advise you do not make any further movements."
Joanne cupped one hand over her ear, "What? Speak up a little, will you?"
From within the darkness in the building, a blade-like object glinted, ambling toward her. Her eyes widened, opening her mouth to yell. Her words failed to leave her throat, however.
The man in green lunged into the hallway, leaping in front of Joanne. The shimmering blade multiplied as a pair of yellow glowing dots leered at him. Her legs shaking, Joanne took a step back. She shook her head and grimaced, overcome by a simmering anger.
"Tch, scared by some mummy with scissors for hands... that just ain't me," she uttered through chattering teeth.
She pumped her fists and tensed her arms, ready to back her friend up. A three-way staredown ensued, waiting for a reckless soul to make the first move. The air in the building felt so dense that the peering figure's claws seemed to cut through it. The creature hummed for a few seconds, causing the duo to prime their arms, ready for its attack.
A horrible screech pierced through their ears. In a flash, the man swung his leg forward, clashing against a brittle, scarcely muscled arm. A short, shrill scream followed, as the cloaked one thrashed its nearly shattered arm in pained throes. Seizing the opportunity, Joanne hollered and tackled the cloaked one, using her whole body to knock it down.
Only when the adrenaline rush ended did she realize; she threw herself right into a fetid nest with claws poised at her sides.
"Oh crap!" She hissed, pushing herself off the corpse-like body.
The cloaked one swung his unharmed hand toward her. Small patches of fabric flew in the air before a thudding sound echoed through the walls. Joanne cursed as she grabbed her left arm, letting out sharp breaths through clenched teeth.
With his hands firmly on the cloaked one's throat, the man in green bared his teeth in a twisted, rage-filled grimace.
"You are beginning to annoy me, vermin. I hope you do not mind lacking use for your arm," he growled, his face contorting in a feeble attempt to keep his composure, "Or your throat."
His heart fluttered with barely restrained wrath as he slowly silenced the creature, fueled by a whirlpool of emotions. Memories of monks and priestesses calling for him, begging to be saved thundered at him. The sight of Tomas and Eila, lost and nearly frozen in utter isolation, all due to the cloaked ones, flashed like lighting in his mind. His hands squeezed so tight; he felt the creature's gasps for air.
He paused once he recalled the twins' tearful faces as they slept in the bus, as if pained by dreams of being with their parents. How his own eyes watered for the first time in so long; an expression of emotion he scarcely, if ever, felt: empathy. His hold softened, overcome by concern once he gazed at Joanne.
Once the creature ceased squirming, he let it slide down the wall to the floor. Its eyes stopped glowing, its body propped up like a large, abandoned doll. The man let out a sigh, his heart acquiring a steady pace.
"Joanne, are you alright?" He asked, taking on a gentle, concerned tone.
Cradling her arm, she nodded, "Just a scratch, hon. Nothin' some bandages and a warm bath can't fix. But ah, guess we know they're here now. Probably not gonna be very happy when they find their buddy."
He stretched out his hand, gladly taken by Joanne. Once they were up and about to leave, they felt a chill behind them as faint, steady footsteps came from the dark. Another pair of glowing eyes emerged, though they were a bright scarlet now. A rush of adrenaline ran through the duo; Joanne even propped her bleeding arm up, blood seeping from her jacket as she tightened her fists.
The steps grew louder, slowing as the figure approached the sun's last vestiges of light. An outstretched palm touched the light, its bones covered in a fine, leathery skin. The hand stood poised for a handshake, as if greeting an old friend, though the silhouette's eyes shone with unsettling contempt.
"Fear not, mortals, I've no desire to engage in a useless battle now. I simply want to observe the cause of the noise that so interrupted my slumber," said a low, groggy voice.
The man in green straightened his posture and lowered his arms. Though his heart urged him to attack, for he stood in the presence of his enemy, he walked up to the hand and gave a firm shake.
For the sake of the Diderots, and for his wounded companion, he could not afford to break his composure. Despite staring in the face of the one responsible for the fall of Trusa's temple, the very reason Xybelios, his home's guardian, remained hidden from the world for over a year.
Yet he could only stand and approach him as with any other diplomat or noble. By concealing his rage, grief, and worries under his beloved mask of wisdom and tranquility.