Rhodes Island
Wendy sat against her chair, rubbing her temples. It wasn't that she was being overworked with papers again, she had finished a long time ago and had received none until this now. She was rubbing her temples because it itched, like an internal itch, right on her brain that she couldn't get no matter how hard she rubbed.
Wendy: Shit... IT'S GETTING WORSE...!!!
The itching spread throughout her head, on her temple, behind her ears, under her chin, anywhere above the neck it itched like a thousand small limbs crawling around.
Wendy: ARGH!
Her rubs began to take on a more forceful approach, the rubs became scratches that reddened her skin and cause small amounts to be scraped off.
Yet, her itch didn't stop, but moved to her Y-shaped horns. Her hands did the same too, aggressive clawing at her horns for the uncomfortable feeling to go away. The only reason she stopped was because she felt pain from her hands.
Wendy: Hisssssssss...!
The itch was gone, but the pain on her hands was still felt. Wendy looked at her hands in shock, witnessing how torn and tattered like paper her flesh looked and how much blood there was. She quickly rushed went in her personal bathroom and opened the lights, but that only served to make her much more panicked when her eyes met her own in the mirror.
It was like if horns were to have a growth spurt, if it were to exist, then Wendy's horns had went through one. They were much more crooked than before, like sharp branches coming from a great, old tree. No wonder her hands were covered in wounds, it was because of herself.
Wendy: How in that world...?- OUCH!!
Even with the lightest poke from her ring finger, there was a small cut that formed. Wendy stared at the cut before she realized the ring Y/n have her wasn't there.
It was on the floor, a chip has been done that seemingly continued to cracked until it fully snapped, leaving it in pieces in the floor. Wendy brushed the broken accessory off her mind as she tried to look for medical supplies.
"I'm hungry..."
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It had been only a few months since his release, yet the boy who was given the name Y/n had grow exponentially, to the point where the kid a few months ago was a couple years lacking from becoming a full-fledged adult.
Aside from age, his combat-prowess has grown at the same rate as his age. Now able to masterfully utilize knives, his main weapon due to its portability and synergy with his attack-style.
As of now, he was engaged in a heated battle between his rival and teammate, a Lupo the same age as him, she was from Ursus and came here to train. The Lupo reminded him of the first human being he killed, but felt no remorse anymore.
From the side, the same woman that visited Y/n watched him train with an amused expression. He knew she wasn't a fighter based on her stature, but why was she always spectating?
His thoughts were cut off by his rival thrusting the knife for his chest, at which he dashed back to his left which gave her another chance to strike. Y/n was able to parry the surprise attack however, raising his knife to block off the attack aimed for his shoulder.
During the struggle, the Lupo smirked at Y/n.
"Watch where you are looking."
Y/n: Yet I can clearly see who is superior between the two of us, you cannot. Who is the real visually impaired one?
"Tch. You suck at trash talking."
Y/n: I learn how to kill, not how to talk.
Y/n suddenly pushed back with a lot of force, taking it as his chance to deal a series of heavy blows that would crumble away her defense.
Toying with your enemy, eroding their walls carefully was a strategy Y/n liked. But as an assassin, it directly clashed with his purpose, to kill the target as quickly and silently as possible.
Aside from casual spars like this, a real fight against trained combatants was one of the few times he could you with them. And he relished in all of them.
Y/n: It's checkmate, Mila.
His final blows were a kick to the back of her knee and an elbow to the nose, incapacitating Mila for a short moment. When she recovered, she knew she had lost.
Mila: We are not playing chess.
Y/n: Because you keep losing, and you had thought this was far easier than chess.
Mila: Man, screw you. I'll get you next time.
Y/n: It has been 18 days since you started saying those words, and coincidentally the last time you played chess against me, and lost.
Mila: I told you to-!
*clap* *clap*
"Settle down now, children. I have an assignment for you two."
Y/n: My lady.
Mila: Yes, My lady.
Y/n immediately went on one knee, like watching a God descend from the heavens, his eyes focused only on her as his body was unmoving like a stone statue. Mila on the other hand hesitantly adopt the same position, looking down on the ground next to Y/n as she heard her speak.
"Hm. Good, good. You two have far exceeded my general expectations of this year's batch, especially you Y/n. Both of your overall performance has made up for the number finished training."
Mila: If I may ask, My Lady. How many actually passed?
"Ah, about that..."
The woman gracefully walked down the steps, the ends of her white dress flowing in the light wind, making her resembled a gentle dove if not for her Lupo ears. In her hands was a stack of white squares, evidently laminated by the white sheen seen on the surface when it was hit by lights from atop.
With the strength of almost nothing, the woman dropped the pictures to the floor, allowing them to scatter all around them, their faces scanned the photos and widened when they realized the red that prominently appeared in every photo was blood.
"...You killed them all."
Mila/Y/n:...
"This is simply what life is. The weak dies to the strong, and the strong serves those who are stronger. This cycle of strength is the origin of all emotional cycles, revenge, grief, order... life. All those you have killed have become your own personal stepping stones that led up to this moment, but that is not all, you will acquire more stones and stack them upon each other, to reach great heights until it all eventually comes down, thus becoming anofher stepping stone."
At the end the woman had taken a final step in front of them, her radiance further complimented by the angle she could be seen from.
Y/n: My Lady. Then what is it to be "stronger"?
"I don't know, figure it out yourself."
Y/n/Mila: Huh?
The Lady in white had the look of disgust tangled with a bit of anger, similar to if anyone were to ask her for indecent services while ignorant of her top status.
"My ideals are mine and mine only. You each have your own but when it comes to serving me, you better be ready to turn a blind eye to it."
Both stayed quiet, thinking of all the things she said. The Lady smiled, walking back to a chair and sat down with her legs crossed, watching their faces that resembled lost children.
"While I do like the idea of hosting a philosophy lesson one day where you two can have all the time in the world to think. I personally think that I should brief you on your first mission together."
Y/n: Ye-Yes, sorry, My Lady.
Mila: I'm sorry. My Lady.
Mila looked at his partner weirdly, as if he didn't look weird already since he had no features that resembled any of the existing races. He was always so... responsive when it was with her, most of the time he was silent, stubborn, ignorant. But here he had an obsession in his eyes, to seek a certain emotion from the Lady.
As someone who lost her father at a young age, she could relate to him as they grew up without a parent figure. She wanted to feel validated, from the only living adult who had been present in most of their lives.
"Good. So I have been in negotiations with this religious group originating from Leithania for a while now. And until this point it's safe to say our armistice is rapidly coming to an end. During one of our "discussions", one of them slipped up and mentioned a powerful weapon in the making, somewhere being made in the city that could potentially become a threat to my authority. Your mission is to gather information about the religious group and retrieve the weapon for me."
Y/n: My Lady. We will require basic information about this group if we want to find them.
"Virtually nothing is known about them. But, I do have the name of their religious group."
Mila: What is their name, My Lady?
"The Star of Dysthe, if I remember it correctly."
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"... Ma... 'en!..."
"Mada... n!..."
"Madam... Ch'en!"
Ch'en: Urgh... Why does everything hurt...?
Her thoughts hazy, body aching, senses scrambled like beaten eggs. Ch'en felt the officer tending to her ceased their calls for her name and handed her a glass of water. She gladly accepted it after realizing her parched her throat was.
Ch'en: Thank you. What happened to me, officer?
"W-Well... The LGD Headquarters was suddenly bombed, Lungmen is being attacked by all sides from four separate forces."
Ch'en: How did I not know this?
"Some witnesses testified to the explosion happened in your office, so you took the brunt of it. You were lucky Madam Ch'en. If I hadn't been there at the time you fell from the window your injuries could have been worse, death too might've been a possibility."
With no warning Ch'en stood up, the makeshift bed creaking following with a soft, audible crack of her bones. The Lung felt pain both on her arms and torso, but it would minorly affect her performance.
Ch'en: Where are we?
"A camp set up by the remaining LGD officers that survived the initial attack."
Ch'en: My weapons?
"Right on the table."
On the table, aside form her signature weapons, were the gear she would usually bring on operations with the exceptions of some cartons of water and food.
Ch'en: You brought all of these here?
"Your unconscious body too, it was hard but doable."
Ch'en: Then you have my gratitude. But I haven't seen you before, do you have a name?
"I-I'm still a rookie that joined yesterday. So you probably never seen me, no one does..."
Ch'en: Okay then, rookie. Can you round up the other remaining officers who can fight? Tell them we're retaking our Headquarters today.
"Yes, Madam!"
Ch'en: And you haven't told me your name yet.
"Oh."
The officer took off his goggles and helmet, letting Ch'en see his white hair and pair of Ursus ears.
"It's Kevin, Madam."
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It didn't take much effort to overrun the Headquarters. In fact, Y/n hadn't thought it would be this easy at all. Yet, here he was, at the rooftop with Mephisto, Phoenix and Nine, setting up communications with Faust nearby keeping an eye for any surprises.
Mephisto: Why was Skullshatterer excluded from this? He is better at handling these devices than I.
Y/n: A. Talulah. B. He wanted to find his missing father, Misha would have followed him too.
Mephisto: Speaking of missing people, our men could not find Kevin anywhere, should we extend the search?
Y/n: Oh, no need. He probably broke out by himself. Don't know where he is though.
Mephisto: And why haven't you told me?
Y/n shrugged.
Y/n: I forgot.
Mephisto sighed, going back to tampering with the communications machine. It wasn't in his line of knowledge for this, but he knew some basics into setting up a channel.
Mephisto: Same old...
Phoenix: Tell me about it.
He turned to the masked Phoenix, a surprised look on his face before coming into one of realization. His fingers moved along the dial of the device as he tried to start a conversation with her.
Mephisto: You know teacher personally?
Phoenix: Your teacher? Oh, you mean Y/n. Yes, why?
Mephisto: So it must be you who he mentioned years ago.
Phoenix: Hm?
Y/n: Hey. I can hear y'all talking about me. I'm not deaf so stop that.
He who was surveying the streets below bellowed out in an annoyed tone. As if Mephisto was about to leak an embarrassing memory Y/n has disclosed to him years ago.
Phoenix ignored him and scooted closer to Mephisto, questioning him in a hushed voice for more information.
Mephisto: Um. Teacher wasn't a very open person, especially when it came to us since we stole his food.
Phoenix: That was you?
Mephisto: Huh?
Phoenix: Y/n once came back from his patrol in an extremely bad mood even Mostima was scared of him. Apparently he caught a couple of kids stealing his lunch when he explored an orphanage nearby.
The leader seemed to shudder at mention of the orphanage. Phoenix took note and pointed it out to him.
Mephisto: It's nothing, just bad memories there... Anyway. Teacher wasn't a very open person because of his first impressions of us. While under his training, he did warm up and shared some things with us.
Phoenix: What things?
Mephisto: He mentioned a person whom he liked. While he never divulged to specifics, teacher would go on and on that Sasha and I would spend the whole day listening to him talk instead of practicing. It was a rare occurrence to see him smile too when he spoke about them, even giving them the name "birdie".
Surprise fainted the Liberi's face,everything felt like a whisper compared to the beating of her heart. Phoenix took a deep breath to try to calm her heart down.
Phoenix: I see. Can you excuse me for a second?
Mephisto: Oh, sure. I needed to finish this device anyway.
When the Liberi turned back, the Pythia known as Nine was gone, Y/n was left peering over the burning Northern District, his demeanor silent as he leaned his head on his hand.
Y/n: I told her to take some of the men to rally infected in the slums, we'll meet her in the Western District after this.
Half of his face was exposed, but not all visible to Phoenix's angle, while his eyes were covered, she could tell he was avoiding her eyes.
Phoenix: Do you think we can trust her?
Y/n: It's not like I know her personally. But from the few times we had spoken she seems nice, a little overambitious at times but that can be a good thing.
Phoenix as usual, hummed in response before suddenly leaning against him, making the fake Sankta jump at the sudden contact.
Y/n: What do you think you're doing?
Her expression did not change one bit, a contrast to Y/n stumbling ever so slightly with his words.
Phoenix: Relax, we've done it before.
Y/n: I guess s-so... He told you everything, didn't he?
Phoenix: Part of it.
Y/n: Oh, Lord...
Phoenix: This isn't a word I would usually say, but I found it... cute how you would talk about me.
With her Arts, seeing his face that was a few degrees higher than the rest of his body wasn't a problem, she could use her Arts anytime she wants for half an hour between hourly intervals since her training.
Y/n pursed his lips, the need to say something back but the price of embarrassing himself stopped him to.
Phoenix: What about you, do you find me cute?
He opened his mouth to suck in a breath.
Y/n: Shut up, you dingus.
Phoenix: Dingus? That's a new word.
Y/n: Shit.
He buried his face underneath crossed arms, visibly embarrassed at his past self, he mentally berated said self for having such a big mouth and spewing unecessary information to a pair of kids he didn't even know that well.
Phoenix: Come on, just say it out loud. It will only hurt you if you keep it bottled up.
Y/n: Fine! I like you! There, I said it! You only like me back because I masqueraded and operated under the guise of Sathariel. I'm a disgusting, worthless sack of shit that stole your Y/n's whole identity and flirted with his childhood friend! I deserve all the curses thrown at me, the lonliness I feel, and the disapproval of everyone I know! That's all I have left anyway!
A moment had passed, the Liberi's smile faded but nonetheless approached Y/n. Y/n pushed her hand away when she grabbed his arm, but that didn't stop her from pulling him into an embrace, one that he tried to harshly pull away from.
Phoenix: Whenever he would admit something, Y/n would look to the side and calmly lay out his words. Like how he told us all those years ago on how he wasn't the Sathariel we knew.
Y/n by then stopped struggling to break free, dropping his arms to the side of his body. Only sighing silently, as if that was the closest thing he physically could do that substituted crying.
Phoenix: I like you as Y/n, not as Sathariel.
Y/n: Sh-Shit... You're making it more cliche than it already is... But I'd like to take our time before becoming serious with... this. So don't complain about me because I have no experience in this!
Phoenix: Good. You're being honest.
The whole time he said those five words, his head looked away from her.
"My, my~. She's a keeper alright!"
Y/n could only wrap his arms around her body to prolong the hug as the female voice continued to giggle in his head, driving him to new levels of insane compared to what Azeth did.
Meanwhile, Mephisto awkwardly looked the other way the whole time, he had finished the device and wanted to let them know of its completion, but
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This was the story of a girl who could do anything.
Ever since she found out, the girl could do anything, anything as long as she could imagine it. A flying wolf? A ruined temple? A plate of food as big as the jungles of Sargon? If there was even the smallest chance that she could recreate her thoughts with her own hands, then it will come true with a "poof!"
Sadly, the greatest gifts, comes with the worst curses.
On the day of her ninth birthday, she was stricken with an ferocious anger, anger caused by a Perro she had once called a friend, but now was another one of those children that mocked her of her gift. Seeing this, the girl thought of her Perro friend's death, the idea of her friend being stabbed by air lingered in her mind.
In the next moment, what had transpired in the naive girl's mind had become a bloody reality. The screams is adults and children alike as blood splattered the ground, staining her friend's clothes and pouring down her exposed stomach. No one knew what to do, no one had the medical knowledge sufficient enough to repair an irreparable damage.
But, what if, the girl could do it? Think about her friend without any sort of wound on her body and poof! Gone was the sinful idea of hers come to life.
Yet, not once did that thought cross her mind, only the thoughts of her in a sea of what was once her family and friends' corpses piling up into a mountain like sands in an hourglass.
The newspapers a week later had an article about a remote village west of Victoria had all its inhabitants dead in one place, speculated to be a group suicide. One member of the village was missing, possibly dead, a young girl going by the name Ellenore.
On her journey as a runaway, she met two peculiar men. Asche, a slender man with his arms and the bottom half of his face covered in bandages, burn marks he had suffered from his past. He was always careful not to show his burn marks on front of the young girl, but Ellenore didn't mind it. Asche was a bit of a fanatic, spouting out verses and lines from a texts of the religion he and the other man was a part of. He tried to indoctrinate her into it a few times, as a result she memorized some verses from said religion.
The second man, stout and had the build of a mountain, his name was Morgue. Morgue looked normal, a round face with pale but otherwise healthy skin. He was quiet compared to the rambling Asche, his eyes often looking distant yet alert, he was a great listener too. Morgue wouldn't eat much, Asche told her he was sick and would vomit out anything he ate.
These two men would be her companions, guardians, parents. The young girl was happy again when she found her new family.
One day, an odd man with red hair and golden eyes visited them, he was the leader of the religion Asche spoke about. The man looked at Ellenore and smiled, told her that she was going with him. Those days went by in a blur, the young girl barely had any memory of what happened, but knew something had changed about her.
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Moments after the explosion, Mostima went for a stroll around the Southern District, hearing word from Y/n that a shop run by an old couple nearby made the best pork buns. She arrived at said location, but it was already destroyed, the building and its neighboring structures had collapsed as if a mighty Catastrophe as strong as the Great Rift tore through the area.
Inside the rubble, she found two bodies, the old couple Y/n mentioned. Before she could search any further, she was reminded of her deal with said male.
Mostima: Right, I should destroy some stuff to draw their attention. Um... Let's start with this.
She waved her staves as a shockwave that distorted the air around her made pieces of rubble float. The rubble was then pushed away from her in all directions, dealing more destruction to what was already destroyed.
Mostima: Is that enough? I think it's enough, but Y/n probably won't, him being really specific and all that. Don't you agree, little girl? People always seem to want everything to go their way when everything they do has been mapped out already.
"Good Morning, Miss Apostle. Do you remember me?"
Mostima: How wouldn't I?
Of course she did. The little girl in robes was the third figure among the three who attacked her in that club. While she had not witnessed her doing anything, she knew if a little girl was with them, then she was powerful.
"Now you must know why we are here again?"
Mostima: We? There is only two of us here, little girl.
The robed girl opened the notebook in her hands and flipped through the pages, from there she turned it around and showed her a picture of two familiar robed men.
And in front of Mostima's eyes, the same two robed men she encountered materialized from strips coming from the girl's fingertips like yarn from a ball. Each finger had a green star motif at the end.
"You must be mistaken, Mister Asche and Mister Morgue is always with me."
Mostima: So that's why...
The little girl pulled up her hood to reveal a pair of Perro ears nestled atop of a bed of brown hair. Her small smile carrying an aura of wickedness that no kid her age should bear.
"Miss Apostle, do you know what I'm thinking about?"
The fallen Sankta's instincts flared like crazy, there was nothing surrounding her, yet if felt like there was. That was then her cheek, stomach, thigh, and arm was slashed, each one leaving a deep cut that made Mostima kneel and hiss.
The little girl had a bright smile as her companions both conjured their weapons, Asche creating balls of ashen flame and Morgue sticking his claymore to the ground. Mostima knew this was going to be a hard one to beat.
"I'm thinking about you getting hurt, Miss Apostle."
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The burning landscape of the Northern District made the trek more unbearable. Y/n regretted having Nian wreak havoc on this district, but it was far better than Skadi, who would unknowingly destroy the location he was going to.
Y/n: So what's your favorite color?
Phoenix looked at his confused, asking why he asked such a random question at the wrong time.
Y/n: Well, if we really are doing... this, and we are. I want to know more about you. We only got close before because I was disguising as Sathariel, so I don't really count those times.
Phoenix: Sure. But since you and Sathariel are the same person, both of you must have similar preferences.
Y/n: Oh really? Favorite genre to read, food and greatest fear.
Phoenix: Gothic Mystery, toasted bread and cheese, and the fear of water.
Y/n chuckled as he helped her down a ledge by catching her mid air. This was the entrance to a luxurious mall, one that had sunk a few meters because of sinkholes created by Nian. When both parties noticed his hands on her waist, Y/n quickly retreated and went inside the dark mall.
Y/n: A-Anyway. You're wrong, I like science fiction, egg tarts, and I have a fear of needles.
Phoenix made a small 'oh" sound. Surprised that her assumptions were incorrect.
Phoenix: Guess we do need to learn more about each other.
Y/n: Mhm. I'm really looking forward to it. You are an interesting person to me, birdie.
Phoenix: So are you.
Without any further thought, Y/n grabbed her hand and pulled her along, he led her up a flight of broken escalators that led to the third floor which was the highest floor of the mall. There was a balcony, where the glass roof had light penetrating through and shining a portion of the first floor, a glass chandelier hang in an unstable sway that could fall at the slightest shake.
Y/n: There, at the end is the pawnshop.
Phoenix: Why...?
Y/n: I'm getting back what belongs to me. Come, help me push the door open.
The glass door was blocked by a cabinet, a heavy one in fact. It took the efforts of both Y/n and Phoenix to be able to push the door ajar enough for him to slip through while she took watch.
Y/n: Where is it...?
Inside was just as dark as he thought, barely any light had poured in but he could see the jewelry lining the displays as they shined with what light they could get. He took one greedy glance and looked away.
There was a wooden rack that stored two types of weapons, historical artifacts hailing from forgotten ancient civilizations or weapons that were made from gold or rare gems, thus increasing their value, Y/n was looking for the latter.
Years before this, Y/n had built the foundations of his plan, and also made calculations on the finances needed to pull it off. It was very obvious from the start that with his current and future predicted income he would not have enough still. While scratching his head with frustration, his eyes landed on the elegant sword that had two glowing gems out of seven, and so, he sold it at a high price, a price that couldn't compare to it's actual worth.
And there it was, just as beautiful as the day he sold it.
Inside a lacquered, dark wood case with a glass window that displayed his prized blade resting in a bed of silky, velvet cushions. A thin blade restored to perfection, free of any chips or bends, courtesy of Nian who was curious of said blade. The basket-shaped hilt made way for beautifully sculpted and molded patterns that gave the blade an air of royalty. Seven, small purple gemstones lined around the hilt, two of them shining like stars in the sky.
Y/n: Ya suyi...
He spoke in an unknown tongue, similar in some ways to Lungmen's, yet completely different. Y/n crushed the lock with a Phantasm before opening the lacquer case, gingerly grasping the sword by the blade and handle. Slowly, he pushed the sword into a custom made sheath made from dark-colored wood with extra tidbits of sculpted silver as a finish.
Y/n: It's good to have you back.
Phoenix: Y/n! Come out here.
Phoenix called him in a hushed voice, from that single detail he knew someone must have entered the mall. As he squeezed his way out, he say Phoenix peering over the glass and metal railing of the balcony.
Y/n: Who is it?
Phoenix: A group of people, armed to the teeth.
Y/n: Don't tell me...
Y/n followed his partner and looked over the railing. She was right, there was a group, a group of LGD officers led by a familiar face. A tall, green-haired Oni with a triangular shield.
Y/n: It's LGD. We may find another way out through one of the windows without exposing ourselves.
The Liberi nodded, before they quietly sneaked down each floors, avoiding the escalators and taking the stairs that was inversely built in front of them, which made it the perfect way down.
When they reached the second floor, Y/n could clearly hear their conversation due to their voices echoing around.
"...too many men. We're running out of medical supplies to treat Burns and we lost contact with most of our men. We failed, Madam, Lungmen is gone."
Hoshiguma felt the despair shared by the whole team. They were right in a way, The being was none they have seen before, a force of nature that could easily destroy anything in her path. And yet, there was one detail she observed when witnessing the blazing hell that was Nian's power.
Nian, as hot as her flames were, didn't kill a single person here yet.
Well, yes. She had killed indirectly, mainly those who suffered from burns too severe, but she hadn't went out of her way to directly kill anyone of them. As outlandish as the claim was, Hoshiguma thought of it as a possibility.
Hoshiguma: Is she distracting us?
Seeing the powerful being set what could be the equivalent to a measly campfire to her was certainly odd. If she were this powerful, then why hasn't she advanced to other districts now, especially the Central District? Even if each district was as big as a small nation, Nian could easily overrun Lungmen in a single day.
Hoshiguma; This must be connected to the riots in the east and the disaster in the south. I must tell the others! Swire! Do you come in!
Even from the second floor, Y/n knew the expression Hoshiguma had, one of realization. He expected some to figure it out eventually, but not at such a quick rate.
He had two choices; One, leave Hoshiguma to share her the info she knew with the others, if that were to happen, then his timeframe was scarcer than before. Or two, cut their communications, he still held on to the mask, but he would run the risk of exposing himself.
Y/n: Birdie, hurry and break the window!
Phoenix: Mm.
Grabbing a potted plant from nearby, Phoenix threw it towards the glass window that directly led outside, the glass broke that brought the attention of Hoshiguma's group, where the last thing they say was two masked figures escaping through the broken gap of the window.
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Mila: This way. He should be waiting upstairs.
Mila was first to climb the steps that would lead to the second floor of the mafia-owned restaurant, where most of the reserved tables. Both were dressed elegant pieces of attire provided by the "Lady" by Mila's request.
She wore a black strapless dress that exposed her leg up to her lower thigh, with a translucent, white shawl that hang by her arms. Y/n wore a brown three piece suit with brown pants that were also suspenders that went over his white button shirt and was parallel to his black tie. Both had masks on made from a durable but breathable material.
Y/n: I don't like this mask I'm wearing.
Mila: Keep wearing it, we don't have much of a choice, as far as they know we are a rich couple who are interested in The Star of Dysthe.
Y/n: And what does pretending to be rich have to do with wearing masks?
Mila: Are you dumb? Disguising as wealthy individuals means we must apply what is commonplace among them. For those who are influential and holds a lot of wealth means protecting their reputation. So wearing masks when dealing with business is a common practice among rich families in Siracusa.
Y/n: Ok and?
Mila: Urgh. I should have left you in our room... Let's just get this over with.
A man waited for at the end of the flight of stairs, he was reminiscent of an unmoving mountain, white hair only made him look more like one. The man grunted to call their attention, once he did, he tipped his head to the side and opened the door, letting the two in before going in himself and closing it.
Asche; Ah, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Falliano, I personally welcome you to La Capitale! You may call me Asche.
There was a very thin man sitting on an armchair like with velvet and painted in gold. The thin man wore a mask too, but both of them could notice the bandages wrapped around his face.
Mila: We thank you for sparing us a bit of your your time. We fully recognize how difficult your line of work must be.
Asche: *chuckle* I will admit I was a bit taken aback when two couples suddenly popped out of nowhere requesting weapons from our group. And to find out you were a close acquaintances with the Lady!
Mila: Yes, a lot of our sellers are quite shocked when they find out. Isn't that right, dear?
Y/n: Yes. You didn't have to elbow me.
Asche grinned, leaning over to the coffee table that separated both parties and grabbing the wine bottle. With zero effort he popped off the cap with bare hands and poured it into respective glasses.
Asche; While my men unloads the weapons, why don't we have a chat? Did you know, that this restaurant, La Capitale, used to be the real capital to a past Siracusa that was once a bigger kingdom? Now it's just a measly restaurant that serves pasta with less than passable sauce.
Y/n: I didn't know that.
Asche; Heh. Of course you don't, a lot of people don't. That part of Siracusa history was muddled by treaties and secondhand information. Only those who lived at those times and the current ruler and descendant of the King of the Siracusan Kingdom.
There was a clear anger in his voice, like ash that kept on burning even after being extinguished, a pinch of burning ash that had the capacity of jump-starting another great fire. His anger was temporarily quelled by a sip of wine, the bitter yet sweet taste of the drink calming his nerves.
Asche: This place we sit on, was burned by the revolutionists, led by the woman that would soon be their Queen. Heh, who would have thought what used to be a cult would become such a wildely-known faith.
Y/n: You seem to know a lot of Siracusan history.
Asche: How old do you think I am, Mr. Falliano?
Y/n: Pardon?
Asche: I want you to guess my age.
Y/n: I would say you are in your late twenties, based on your appearance of course.
He heard a chuckle, then booming laughter as Asche chortled in his chair, choking a few times as he was leaned against his cane.
Asche: Of course. You are correct.
Y/n: Then why did you laugh?
Asche: An old memory resurfaced, nothing more.
*knock* *knock*
Two soft knocks on the door, Asche's eye flashed to the man that resembled a mountain who listened to the conversation the whole time in a corner met his eyes and nodded, going to the door to let two waiters wheeling in a tray.
Asche: Ah, it's here. I do enjoyed a conversation, but let us talk business.
Mila: Hm. Finally.
A black box was brought onto the table, it was big in size and took up most of the space on the table. Asche took a key attached to his staff and unlocked the padlock, before moving the case so it was directly facing them and opening it.
The interior wasn't hollow but filled with foam covered with a blanket of silk, in the middle of the case was glass casing, specifically made to host a black, marble-sized, ball that glowed yellow.
Asche: This is our latest subject of interest, a highly valuable artifact found in the ruins in Kazdel, it is said that holds the power to create Catastrophes. It's impossible to replicate, so there is only one of these in existence. This is what you wanted to see, yes? How much power we, The Star of Dysthe, have in our back pockets. This is only a taste of what we have, unfortunately.
Mila: Just a taste?
Asche had an odd smile, the waiters lingered in the room, and the man that resembled a mountain stood up.
Asche: One last thing before we move on...
Mila: Something isn't right.
Y/n: It's a trap.
Both of them had the same thought and stood up. Where Mila suddenly had the man resembling a mountain behind her, and felt pain zap through her abdomen.
Y/n on the other hand, clutched the stump that was once his arm and hand, the blackened areas of his arm still charred and felt like it was on fire. Asche smirked and blew off the flame coming from his staff.
Asche: Mr. Falliano had I not realized who had the Art of resurrection, then I would have killed you twice, or should I go by your true name, Sathariel?
He could barely hear his voice, the pain from having his left arm burned to a crisp instantly overwhelmed his senses and left him on one knee. Y/n felt two sharp blades on both sides, the waiters now were wearing masks with an eight-pointed star surrounding the eye.
Y/n: Who the hell... is Seraphiel?
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Happy fucking new year. New year, new, more fatigued me. I got my Christmas present which came in the form of Eula and Itto at pity 20. Now that Chalter is near I am sacrificing my second born for gacha luck.
And I don't really have much to say honestly, I didn't get infected which is great considering it's flu season and half my teachers got sick. Hope y'all are in the same condition as me.
Story-wise... I also got nothing to say, I mean there is nothing to say if I don't want to spoil anything.
I guess bye? Still getting back into writing without getting distracted.