Richtofen's eyes shot open. He was back in the makeshift dissecting room he had created for himself. Dismayed, he looked around the room and sighed. Although Richtofen had just painfully recounted such important years of his life; time had moved slowly in the present. But before he could let out another sigh - his breath caught in his throat.
His eyes narrowed whilst he looked around the chaotic office again; but, this time, he drank in every detail of the room. His stomach churned as he felt a wave of doom and gloom cloud over him. It was the spatterings of blackened tissues and blood on the walls, the ceiling light flickering as the sickly bulb strained for life; even the mere sight of the floor covered in a sea of manically strewn paperwork - what he saw disgusted him.
In this light, Richtofen saw things very differently. And the feelings it evoked even caused him to almost wretch as he deliberately avoided looking at his 'patient' still laying on the makeshift operating table. The Ragnarök facility had housed unspeakably grotesque experiments yet it was his own office which now frightened him. Still feeling unnerved after recalling his past, it gave him a fleeting moment of clarity that his kind were rarely afforded. The realisation that the room reflected the chaos of his twisted mind had presented itself like a eldritch spectre.
There was even a dull ache at the thought that history was repeating itself. Even though he was so close to confronting Samantha; the same uneasy feeling from the past loomed over him. But he tried to remind himself that no matter how unshakeable this feeling was; it always cropped up right when he was on the precipice of something great.
Richtofen suddenly realised that the voices had been eerily absent from his mind which left him alone with his thoughts - a rare occurrence. Rarely did a day go by when his mind wasn't being bombarded with the cacophony of voices all competing for dominance. Richtofen knew something was afoot; but, even in his alarmed state, he dared not speculate any further.
So, despite the metaphorical alarm bells ringing out in his mind, Richtofen ignored them. These beings were above ulterior motives; they saw Richtofen's impressive potential to become like them! There was simply no way they were using him for their own ends, he thought. They were different.
But for all Richtofen's intelligence, it was his ego that refused to accept this possibility. The human masters in the brotherhood he had long since outgrown were really no different to the ethereal ones he now submitted to - both mortals and immortals alike succumbed to the seduction of power.
After a low sigh, Richtofen stood up and stumbled breathlessly towards the nearby open window. A few minutes went by as he cast his gaze out onto the desolate landscape. His eyes scanned the mangled empty husks of what were once buildings; which was something that seemed to bring him some calm since the world ended. Such beautiful destruction.
The evening breeze whispered through the gap in the window as the cold air gently grazed Richtofen's face. He looked down at his pocket and produced a silver pocket watch - the back of which was engraved in gothic script. The brotherhood had presented it to him with the latin motto "finis coronat opus"; which means, "the end crowns the work".
Richtofen pressed the top as the lid clicked open to reveal the mother of pearl clock face. The seconds hand raced across the Roman numerals as he listened to the incessant ticking. The time read ten o'clock - which seemed to immediately sober him.
Richtofen put the pocket watch back in his pocket and ran a hand through his blonde hair to slick it back. He then buttoned his shirt collar and readjusted his tie before returning to his desk to put on his hat. The previously dishevelled man on the brink of breaking down was no more; these kinds of mental slip ups were always swiftly glazed over and buried.
Whilst Richtofen had ordered the others to journey to the cosmodrome via the lunar lander; he, however, had been instructed to stay behind. The voices insisted that Richtofen send the others to the cosmodrome where they would encounter Dr Gersch. But, they had other plans for Richtofen.
Unsurprisingly though, the details of their plans were deliberately withheld from him. Of course, the voices were always vague in their descriptions as to only reveal the bare minimum to Richtofen - which kept him dependent on their instruction. But, it was the price to pay for unlimited power, he thought. So he did as he was ordered.
The voices had become more and more adamant in demanding that Richtofen to cease pursuing his diary - something they deemed to be an "unnecessary errand". But, this was an order Richfofen continually disobeyed. The voices knew the diary would break the chains they had carefully wound around him; and they had to make him cease this obsession if their goals were to be realised. So, they instructed him to stay behind on the promise that it was necessary for obtaining his diary.
Richtofen knew the voices had been becoming increasingly demanding; even more so as the end goal was coming closer. It was something he found odd and suspicious - and impossible to ignore. But still, he discarded the thought.
Richtofen's mind then wandered to her. His stomach turned as a sharp pang overwhelmed him with anxiousness and impatience. The intense urgency to know whether Kiana was indeed capable of what she claimed was overwhelming. A part of him was hoping they would meet again. Yet, his lust for power and control would quickly beat down such thoughts to the inner recesses of his mind.
Richtofen quickly snapped his attention back to the room. Before recounting his memoirs, he had received a particularly bad berating from the voices earlier this evening. Any time he tried to gleam some kind of information from them; his questions were met with belittlement and dismissal.
Usually, in order to block out his ever creeping doubts and worries; he would try to occupy his mind on his creations whilst he awaited further instruction from his masters. But this evening's moment of clarity made this unfeasible. So instead, Richtofen left the confinement of his office and simply went on a walk in the grounds of the facility.
A few hours later, Richtofen felt the familiar call of sleep that made his skin crawl. He tried his best to fight it before a voice whispered in his mind.
"Feeling tired, Edward? Why don't you go back to your office and have a well deserved sleep?" The voice cooed.
"Jou all hate vhen I shleep. Jou tell me how useless und unproductive I am vhen I do... vhy on Earth vould jou grant me respite now?" Richtofen queried with confusion. His boots crunched on the gravel as he had come to a sudden stop. The wind howled ominously as he awaited a response.
"We have come so far, Edward. We are almost there! Don't you want to rest a little before the grand finale?" Another voice jested.
Richtofen felt awash with suspicion and panic. There was something extremely unsettling by this voice. He had been subjected to years of torment by these voices screaming in his head - this new show of kindness was deeply unsettling. But he had to clear his mind and shake any doubt which would alert them to his suspicion. So when the voice gently suggested again that he take time to sleep he agreed and returned to his office.
There was an armchair from one of the staff rooms nearby that Richtofen had previously ordered Dempsey and Takeo to take into the room. Since then, it had served as his bed. Richtofen shook off his jacket and took off his boots before reclining and trying to feign sleep.
His mind was always a turbulent sea of thoughts and ideas which were difficult to quell. But, he knew he had to maintain a clear mind in order to trick the voices into thinking he was finally asleep. Richtofen lay for an hour or two before finally managing to pull it off. Feeling the voices absent from his mind again only added to the unsettling situation.
But suddenly, Richtofen flinched as he heard a small thud and buzzing of electricity come from the teleporter room down the hallway. Richtofen quickly regained composure and lay quietly and still as he listened to the door of the teleporter room creak open. After a few seconds, he then heard the bellowing sound of heavily thudding footsteps lumbering up the hallway towards his room.
Richtofen's heart began to race and the adrenaline stirred his fight or flight reaction. But, his rational mind kicked in as he tried to remain calm and select the best course of action. He opted to stay still and continue to listen to the sound of the footsteps steadily crescendoing before coming to a stop at his door. His muscles tensed, not like vulnerable prey, but like that of a predator laying in wait.
He lay there ready to pounce as the loose metal door handle rattled gently against the wooden door. The hinges quietly whined as the door began to open. Richtofen was completely out in the open now as nothing provided protection between him and the unknown visitor. Suddenly, the thudding footsteps began to make their way towards him before stopping by his chair. Richtofen could hear ragged breathing as the unknown intruder fiddled around with something before the sound of a gun cocking was the catalyst in setting him into motion.
Richtofen opened his eyes and quickly to sprung into action as he rose from the chair with inhuman speed - causing the person to stumble back with fright. Everything was a blur of movement but within seconds, Richtofen was now behind the assailant with his knife pressed against their throat. When the heat of the moment extinguished; he realised he was staring at the back of someone familiar.
"Ah, shiesse. Zhis vas not how I exshpected zhis to go", a familiar German accent chuckled dryly.
End of part thirteen...