"Sometimes the only thing that people see is what you did when in fact they should be looking at why you did it."
Number Twenty-Seven
How many did he kill tonight? He had lost count after twenty. The aftertaste was always bitter, and he hated every minute of it. Nevertheless, he had made a promise, and his choice was to keep it.
13 entered his office, ripped off the wired earpiece from his left ear and dumped his bag on the floor, mud and blood smearing its marbled white surface. He pulled off the black jacket he loathed so much, wrinkling his nose at the smell that clung to it. The shredded thing went straight to the waste basket. He threw the boots and the guns away and crawled to the couch barefooted and empty-handed. He laid there for a few minutes, trying to get some rest before he had to set out again.
Fifteen... no, make it five. He just needed five minutes to clear off the headache.
For a seventy-year old man, the battle raging outside, in the shadows of populated cities, was trying even for a veteran like him. He wasn't as fast or as powerful as he once was. The chill of the night was painful for his aging bones, and the injuries he kept on receiving wouldn't heal as well as they would if he were younger. However, he couldn't complain. He is 13, and he must live up to his name. For his dead comrades. For the Rare Kinds. For Creed.
Battles like these were common. UnGifted people never liked the idea of a superior race existing, and they felt the drive to hunt the Rare Kinds – agents of Creed in particular – from time to time. But fights never used to be this big scale. What's worse was that Gifted were fighting against their own Kind. The last time this happened, Creed paid a price too high. It lost half of the people working under it – for 13, his own wife and two of his daughters, and for the Master, Ophelia and their child.
Whoever was heading this Light, he knew what he was doing, and he was doing it well. Too damn well.
13 must had dozed off because the next thing he knew, there was someone watching him from the opposite side of the room.
"Holy f*ck!"
His Gift burst out of him, sending a blanket of darkness as inky as midnight across the room, entrapping the stranger. Three seconds passed by in utter silence. His shock gradually worn off, replaced by the sense of anger – that he had let someone sneak on him. He materialized a gun with his mind, and slowly, carefully approached the stranger. Instincts kicking in, 13 switched his illusions.
The darkness shifted to green mist. Snakes appeared out of nowhere, accompanied by tendrils of gray smoke that crawled on the floor. Horrible, nasty creatures straight out from the unholiest nightmares crowded the room. He controlled them, prepared them, to feast on the lone man. 13 was ready for the kill.
A small glow lit the face of the intruder, a fire that wasn't a product of 13's illusion. Alarmed, the old man jumped away in haste.
"We need to talk," said the intruder in a voice he would recognize even in death.
13 straightened, dropped the images he created out of his imagination and frowned at the unexpected visitor. The Equation inclined his head reverently. By the grim expression the man wore, 13 knew that he brought no good news, especially since he was personally here. Initially, he didn't recognize him because he wasn't wearing his usual crisp black suit. Instead, he wore a brown leather jacket over a white shirt, stained jeans and dark boots covered with mud.
"Master Kreuz, why are you here?" 13 asked in confusion. "You never leave the headquarters."
"I just did."
Kreuz locked gazes with his old friend and took note of the exhaustion visible in his weathered face. His white hair was all over his gaunt face, some plastered in sweat against his skull. 13 appeared to have last slept three days ago, if not more.
"But in the past –"
"– is exactly that, the past. Have you gone senile, Agent 13? Wasn't your napping enough?"
13 scowled at his Master. "Show respect to your elders, boy."
Kreuz laughed at the expression he received and served himself a glass of apple cider he took from a shelf. 13 only eyed him as he moved about the place. Finally, Kreuz flopped on the couch with 13 and offered the other man a glass. Along with the glass were a couple of pills.
"Vitamins and pain-reliever, my friend. I believe you needed them badly."
"Badly, eh?"
"You're past retirement age. Take care of your health, old man."
The agent took them unceremoniously. "Enough idle talk. Why are you here?"
Kreuz took a sip, and then downed the drink in one go. "There's a change of plans. I'm sending you to the HQ to replace me. Since I'm here and I'm not going back, you have no choice but to go."
"Well thought," 13 commented tonelessly "And may I ask why?"
"I will directly manage the affairs here. My Gift would be best utilized under these circumstances, but I can't leave my position vacant for too long. Given your experience, I know you can handle multi-tasking. Strategizing has always been your best point."
"Your words flow too smoothly like a well-rehearsed line, and that's crap. Let's stop the euphemism, shall we? What's the real reason, Kreuz Creed? Why are you here?"
"Like I said –"
"You're worried about me," 13 said flatly, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"You're too old for this kind of thing," the other admitted hesitantly.
13 watched his Master for a long time before replying, "You can't lead a direct attack. The risk is too great. I'm just another Equation; Creed doesn't need me as much as it needs you. It's you that supports the whole organization. If you fight, we might lose you."
"I am a fighter first, 13. Remember that. I am stronger than you. If I don't have a chance, what chance do you have? If I don't lead these men, then the whole organization will crumble."
"You are seeking a form of blood revenge against what the Light did. This is what it's all about, right?"
"No."
"Don't lie to me, Master."
"You are the First Master." Kreuz looked at the high ceiling, his expression hard. "I am the brain of Creed. I am not Creed itself. You are, Vladimir Creed. You and your daughters. You founded Creed. You are Creed. It is high time we give back to you what's truly yours. As you can see, when it comes to 00, I am biased. I can't make the right decisions anymore. I need to act, not to oversee. Right now, you are what the organization needs."
13 played idly with his glass. "What is this all about? Are you going to tell them the truth?"
"I can't hide it anymore, especially now that Cecilia foresaw the fall of darkness. You know how stubborn that daughter of yours is."
"I heard she escaped the island and went to Mexico."
"Exactly."
13 sighed. "And I also heard what happened to 00."
Kreuz raked a hand through his graying hair. "11 had noticed how differently I handle 00. He noticed how closely I monitored her, how I pretended to keep my mask on when talking with her. He took note of how I listen to her whims, how partial I am to her. I have always let Equations reign with a free hand, but not on her. He noticed how I tried from time to time to intervene. If the secret is out, then being an Equation won't protect her anymore. Oh god, Vladimir, have I really been so obvious?"
"No, of course not. It's just 11. Like me, he simply knew you too well." 13 walked towards one of the drawers and pulled out a new set of clothes and gears. He broke the sullen atmosphere with his stern voice. "Farewell then, Master. I pray that once everything is said and done, you will return safely to the island with my granddaughter."
"Thank you, 13."
"Emotions can make you fail. Are you sure about this?"
"I must protect the heart of Creed. I am not the best father in the world, but like any father, I want to give my daughter her future. I made her hate me. I know she won't be happy about this... but since secrecy didn't protect her, I guess the truth will."
"That and another."
"Do you read minds now, 13?"
"No, I simply know you long enough."
Kreuz stood up and huffed, clenching his fist in rage. "About time we show them who they're messing with. Let them fear the monster they created themselves. Creed will be on full-offense mode. I won't take prisoners. I'll show them what cruelty and heartless means. I want no one, not even their children, nor three generations of their families to live. They will die. All of them. They will pay the price."
*
"Go, go, hurry! They are coming again. You must take her away."
"To where?"
"Bring her somewhere nobody will find you, where even Kreuz can't find you. Once you leave this island, forget that even Creed exists. Don't talk to anyone, don't tell where you're going so no one can track you. Once you leave, you'll be on your own. Can you do that?"
"But Mistress..."
"Please, 01. Save our Abcidee. Bring her away. Protect her. Give her the life Creed can never give her."
"The Master?"
"I am dying, my dear. He knows I am dying. He will want to protect our child. Please, take her away? You are but a child too. No one will suspect you. Protect my daughter. Protect my heart. Please..."
"Yes, Mistress Ophelia. I will. I promise."
Krad woke up with a start. He didn't realize that he had fallen asleep, huddled in his corner.
He wiped the sweat from his neck, wondering what kind of nightmare he had. Thankfully, he didn't remember it.
It was six in the evening, and feeling sore, he carefully stretched his legs and arms. The popping of bones unnerved him. No injuries to consider. No broken bones that prevented movement. No nothing because of a certain healer. If only the same could be applied on the girl he was now eying. Thoughtfully, he stood up and checked on Faye's sleeping form. She was heavily sedated, but she appeared to be in pain. Sweat dotted her brows, and before he could help himself, Krad stroke her bruised face.
"Mom... Dad..." she whimpered restlessly.
"I wish I can bring the dead back from the grave," he said contemplatively. "If your parents didn't die in that car accident, I suppose you wouldn't have found your way here. You wouldn't be hurt like this."
Krad planted a kiss on her forehead, hoping it was enough to dispel her nightmares. As soon as he realized what he did, he jumped away and began pacing.
What was wrong with him?
He couldn't have fallen for the girl. No, it couldn't be. He barely knew her. If others told him the truth, then it was the old him that had feelings for her, not the current him. He is not Gneiss. He is Krad. She is nothing but a whiny, bratty girl. She was aware of the constant dangers that targeted not only her, but all Rare Kinds in general yet she lowered her guard and allowed herself to be taken. She couldn't be a good agent. She didn't strike him as tactful either.
What could have attracted him to her?
He wanted to deny the agitation inside him, but to what good would that bring? How could he explain the anger searing his veins whenever he sees 04? And why the heck couldn't the girl leave his mind?
He tried to rationalize, but came out with nothing. She's childishly innocent, stubborn, clingy, impulsive and at times exasperating. She could be unexpectedly unpredictable. Yeah, she is pretty, but so are other girls. Woman. He had been with women before, but they didn't drive him crazy like Faye did. He couldn't even begin to understand why he was worried sick for her.
Dammit!
Fishing out his phone, the date surprised him. He had an assignment in two days and he had yet to review its contents. His job is his priority. To hell with the girl!
Krad went into his room, forgot what he needed, walked out, and then remembered why he went in the first place. He had to study the lay-out of the commercial building said to belong to the Light, and he was supposed to get the blue print in his drawer. With an inaudible sigh, he went back, took the folder, and at the sight of the fridge mulled over before taking a can of beer. Two cans, actually. He might need alcohol to focus. And to relax. And maybe, just maybe, get rid of the nagging images in his head. He snatched a granola bar and a bag of chips on his way out too.
Minutes later, he found himself back to Faye's room. The doctor was surprised to find him by the door and with a hasty bow, grabbed his bag and left his patient. Krad placed the folder down the table and emptied the chips while browsing through it, taking mental notes on the placement of emergency exits and windows. The floor plan was crafty. Security cameras seemed to be able to capture all angles of the place. There were only two blind spots. If he entered using the front doors –
Instinctively, he felt eyes on him, and there, on the chair he occupied earlier, was Cecilia. Her hazel eyes were bright and feverish, her cheeks blotched in red.
"Why are you here?" he asked coolly. He opened the second can of beer and downed it in one go.
"To prevent Kreuz from interfering."
"What?"
Cecilia wound her fingers on her curly brown hair. Her smile was nonexistent. "Rain. Glass. Your feathers are scattered. Kreuz must not come in between, or else the darkness will fall."
"Whatever," he said dryly. The woman was driven to insanity by a death of a former agent, Krad learned from a source, but the Master kept her as her Gift to see the future was indispensable. But, heck, he was starting to lose his patience.
Gift or no Gift, he didn't like her.
"You think I'm crazy," she stated with a knowing gaze.
"You bet I do."
"Maybe I am," she replied, "and more."
With a quick step, she was in front of him. Her shaking hands were cupping his face. He quickly moved away, but her grip was firm. For such a small woman, she was undoubtedly strong.
"What are you doing?" he growled as he stared down at her eyes that seemed to turn unnervingly green, and then gold, and then green again. The flecks of brown were gone.
"My dear Gneiss, I'll let you See what I See," she whispered, "Let me enter your head."
He stiffened, and something close to fear crept to him.
"The future? You're going to let me see the future?"
"One of them." Krad saw the pain in her face. "I am sorry I couldn't let you see your past, but I want you to know that am in full mental capacity to discern what I am doing. You have to trust me. Like you did for Abcidee."
"Abcidee?"
"Look into my eyes."
As Krad did, he was enveloped by a tingling feeling he couldn't fully identify. In his mind, he could see fuzzy images of shadows. People's shadows. He could hear the sounds of their screams and cries, of footsteps and gunfire. The sky was gray. It was raining. It was the picture of a war. The image gradually focused and grew clearer, but then the picture shattered into a million shards, replaced by a new scene with him standing in front of a grave. It was inside a cave, a room carved out of rocks. Candles flickered at their brass holders. The Master was with him, and so was Rael, 04, 13 and a handful of Bases. The Master was on a wheelchair, half his face disfigured by a burn, and he looked older, tired, pensive.
The grave stone was unmarked. Beside it was another gravestone, but this was filled with dry flower garlands.
Ophelia Jamie Creed, it said. She continues to live in the hearts of her beloved.
Krad attention was diverted when he saw the Master moved. He watched as the Master placed his hand over the empty gravestone. His hand glowed. The Master was using his Gift. White letters stood out, embossed, raising themselves out of the black slate –
"No!" Krad's eyes snapped open as he pushed Cecilia away, and he gasped for air. "No! Faye can't die! She can't!"
"All people die. We're only mortals."
"Faye will not die like that!" he hissed as red spots glazed his sight. The images felt like acid inside his head. "She won't! I won't allow it!"
"She will."
"Goddamnit!"
"It is one of the futures I am trying to prevent, my dear," said Cecilia with a weary tone. She slunk back to the chair and stared blankly at her hands. "Kreuz is doing what he thinks is right, but he doesn't know the repercussions. He wants you to bring her to the headquarters. You can't bring her back. She must stay away. The Light will infiltrate the island and a big war will occur. If she's there, she'll die. Her presence will set the wheel in motion."
"The Master wants 00 treated. The best instruments are in the HQ! You mustn't belittle the abilities of the agents either! Creed is the strongest organization in the world."
"Strong, but not invincible. Even the sun sets in paradise, my dear," the woman spoke tentatively.
He began pacing again. "Why don't you show this-this vision to the Master? He'll know what to do!"
"I know he would, but that is not the best step to take."
"If you show him, the HQ will become an impenetrable fortress! If 00 was healed, she could very well fight to defend herself!"
Cecilia shook her head. "The alternative will be, he would recall all agents to protect the island. War is inevitable and only more blood would be shed. Unprotected, the facilities all around the world will fall. If that happens, the existence of the Rare Kinds will be known to the public. It would be total chaos. Countries would turn against each other in effect. No. I could only warn Kreuz, but I can't show him this."
"Then what? Why did you show that to me?"
"Because you are the only one who can save her. You must bring her away and protect her like you did before."
"What are you saying?" Krad gritted his teeth. Images started invading his mind. "I need to fight for Creed in the frontlines. I can't be babysitting one girl!"
"You need to protect the heart of Creed. If destroyed, Creed will crumble."
"That's even better! I need to be by the Master's side."
"Kreuz is the Brain," she informed him cordially. "Not the heart."
"What are you trying to say? That Faye is the heart?"
Cecilia stared at the pale girl under the white sheets. "Abcidee. I am talking about Abcidee."
Krad now had lost his cool. He stalked to the woman, his rage palpable in his every step. "Abcidee here, Abcidee there. Even Rael said that you won't stop talking about this Abcidee. What is this Abcidee? Or rather, who? And why are you talking in dodgy terms. We are talking about 00! This is a major problem, woman! If you have something to say, say it straight to my face!"
Cecilia only sighed at his temper. She idly wondered if it should have been better had she approached 04 instead. But no, that was not his destiny. Arashi was needed elsewhere. All Equations are needed elsewhere. There's only Gneiss to spare. An UnGifted one had no business interfering in this mad battle.
Using her Gift on Gneiss used up her meager strength. However, she knew she had to endure everything. She had to protect Abcidee for her brother, for her father and for her sister. Ophelia would be proud of her, she's sure.
Faye betrayed herself by involuntarily moving a finger. Cecilia sighed and gently held the girl's bandaged hand. "I'm sorry we woke you up, dear. This boy here is a noisy lout."
Krad turned to her, and let out a huff. "Since when have you been listening?"
Faye frowned at him. "Last time I checked, I can't see. How do you expect me to read the wall clock?"
Cecilia burst out laughing. Krad scowled at them.
"Who is this Abcidee?" Faye asked lightheartedly. She tried to sit herself up and only succeeded with Cecilia's help. "I didn't know Creed has a heart." A smirk donned her face at the ironic pun. It did somehow dissipate the tension.
"Only a few did," remarked the small woman. "Just a handful of the survivors."
It was Krad turn to ask. "What survivors?"
"Roughly a decade ago, the very first Equations were annihilated. Only a few survived till this day– my brother, my father, Gneiss here and myself. Unfortunately, Gneiss don't remember so that means the number is down to three."
Faye was stunned. "Oh, oh my god."
She remembered 13, the oldest man alive in Creed. If Cecilia's father is alive, and by the age, it seemed likely that... and then... oh god... why didn't she realize it earlier?
"What happened back then?" Krad asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. He sat at the edge of the bed, all ears for the story.
"That war was very similar to what's happening now. Creed has just had a new Master, and as an inexperienced one, he made mistakes. The leader of the enemy was once a friend of Kreuz, and that made things very difficult for him. The enemy took chances and drove the spear to home. Two hundred Gifted agents died back in the day. Many clans were wiped out."
Clans. The word struck a chord inside him.
"The Underwoods, are they one of them?" Krad asked in a strained voice.
"Yes."
Faye found Krad's hand and squeezed it sympathetically. "I'm sorry."
Krad bit his lip, and after a minute of calming himself, he raised his head to meet Cecilia's gaze. "What happened next? Did Creed win?"
"Yes," Cecilia replied sadly. "My sister reversed the tide. We won at the end."
"Then that's good, right?" Faye smiled, brightening her voice. "I don't think history will repeat itself. Creed is stronger now, and the Master has lots of experiences. I don't think he'll commit the same mistake twice. Who knows, maybe we won't lose as much people as in the past. Maybe we can convince the other Gifted to side with us. We just need to reason right. Violence is not always the answer, right?"
"You're such a treasure, my dear." Cecilia kissed her cheek, planting it softly as to not hurt the girl. "Your optimism makes you the heart of Creed."
Krad furrowed his brows as her words clicked in. "Wait. I thought you say that Abcidee is the heart of Creed."
"She is."
"Then –"
Cecilia tilted her head to the sides, her bright hazel eyes mocking. "Don't you know how special your charge is? Didn't you ever wonder why you, 01, were sent away for years to guard this girl?"
"I thought – they said that-that I left Creed on my own."
"No, you didn't silly!" Cecilia smiled, and wrapped her thin arms around Faye. "If you did, then we would have a new 01 to replace you. No, that was a faux so that you can escape with my then-young Abcidee. You are her guardian. You have always been. Before in the shadows, until she accidentally saw you and made you into Jared Hudson. Up to now. You had always, always been hers, my dear."
Faye froze in her spot, and it seemed like bricks fell down on her shoulders. "I-I... what? You're my-my – This is crazy!"
Without knowing how, Krad realized what Faye was about to do. In a snap, he was holding her down, keeping her hands away from the tubes she was about to tear off. "Get off me, Krad! If you don't, my Gift will affect you! I need to get away from here."
"Calm down! If someone's leaving, it's going to be Cecilia." He glared at the woman. "Go! Now! Before Faye tries to rip your throat off!"
"She won't"
"Then, I will! Now, leave!"
Cecilia only stared at them, and with her fingers traced the face that mirrored that of her older sister's. "I am your aunt, my dear. Your full name is Abcidee Faye Creed, and after what the Light did to you, can you imagine how your father will go berserk? I'll leave because that's a show I mustn't miss. Adieu."
*
Unedited