2006, 31st January

Reykjavik, Iceland

Aaron felt numb, and it had nothing to do with the cold.

Pierre’s face, ruined beyond recognition, stared back at him from across the sheet of glass separating them.

The local doctors and authorities were now looking for the people that had Pierre admitted in the first place, and had had no luck so far.

Ciara did not allow him to get much closer, or claim to know Pierre.

It took every ounce of self control he possessed.

And now that rage had finally subsided, nothing but despair, cold and bleak, remained.

Ciara had gone off to inform Michael.

He wondered if their overseer would even care.

Ciara didn’t know how to feel about Pierre’s death; she had no strong attachment to the man like Aaron did, and she found him generally uncouth and unpleasant to be around.

Should she have felt grief, or really, anything else, over his death?

She did not, and it was not worth thinking about.

It was time to inform Michael and get this over with.

Ciara? Michael’s voice came through the other side of the communicator.

Things had been awkward between them since Ciara’s encounter with Rayyan, and she did not know how much she could trust him.

But he was still their overseer.

“It’s Pierre. We found him at Landspitali hospital. He… jumped out of the window after he was admitted here. We think Hans had him admitted. Aaron… He’s not taking this well.”

After a lengthy pause, Michael said, I didn’t think he had it in him.

He sounded genuinely surprised.

Well, I have a new avenue to explore. You two should get back here, there’s no need for you to be out on the field for a while. And tell Aaron he cannot possibly hope to take on Hans by himself when he inevitably suggests doing something stupid. Use whatever means you have to; we cannot waste him here.

The line went silent.

Whatever means she had to; Ciara knew full well what he was implying.

And she honestly could not disagree.

“Aaron, it’s time to go.”

“You can go on ahead.”

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“No. This isn’t a discussion, Aaron, we-”

“Bitch-”

His voice was filled with a caustic venom he had never demonstrated before.

“-I know not giving a shit about anyone comes easy to you, but-”

“Aaron. We need to go. Now.”

Ciara laced the final word with her power.

Aaron’s muscles locked up as he trembled with effort, trying to keep Ciara’s will off her thoughts.

“You- You…”

“What the hell do you think you’re going to do to Hans if you find him? He will kill you. You’re not that good, Aaron. As you are right now, even I could kill you.”

Ciara sighed, softening her tone, and continued.

“If you want revenge, you’ll have it. But you have to follow Michael’s word for now. Not because he’s trustworthy, or has your best interests in mind, but because he’s more capable than we are, and he’s directly opposed to Hans right now.”

“Let.. go of me…” Aaron managed to grate out.

Ciara shook her head and loosened her hold.

Aaron brushed past her brusquely, but at least he was headed in the right direction.

They stepped through the portal together, but when Ciara stepped onto the space station on the other side, two things struck her.

Judging by the concentration of armed Hollows around the portal hub, they had recently had an incident.

And Aaron hadn’t portalled to the same location as her, seeing as how he was not here.

She rushed to Michael’s office, where she found him ever so slightly worse for the wear, the normally perfect creases on his shirt and around his collar ruined.

Before she could say anything, Michael interrupted her.

“I just got off the line with Aaron’s old mentor. I believe he is on Mars right now. Seeking instruction to further his plans of hunting down and destroying Hans, no doubt.”

Ciara was mute for a moment or two before finding her voice.

“What the hell happened here behind us?”

“A misunderstanding. Nothing to be concerned about. We have a few promising new avenues to explore. For now, go and get some rest.”

Ciara walked out without any further words.

If she was to have answers, she wouldn’t find them here.

“Pisses you off, doesn’t it? How he never shares anything with you? Like you’re just disposable, a tool.”

Ciara whirled on her heel to find Rayyan, awaiting her further down a section of the corridor that he had managed to obscure.

She narrowed her eyes, supernatural senses scanning him, but found no hostile intent.

“I know what that’s like, you know. Hans treats me like shit just because he had a slight headstart. I just want to talk.”

“....Not here.”

“No. Not here.” Rayyan agreed. “I’ll find you tomorrow, when Michael is gone.”

“What makes you think he’s going anywhere?”

“He has to report to Abas Khan. Apparently they’ve been working together. And Abas isn’t here on the station anymore. Michael will leave for Mars tomorrow.”

Ciara paused to consider, then decided.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll find you.”

As they went their separate ways, an entity thus far unseen, made its way back to Michael’s office, and Michael undid the invisibility spell he had placed on the martian spirit.

It flickered at him, the threads of light that composed its form brightening and dimming in a pattern.

Michael did not understand what language these creatures used amongst themselves, but he did not need to, able to use his perception spells to pull the information directly from its psyche.

He nodded.

“You’ve been stranded here long enough, haven't you? You can leave now, or you’ll die without sustenance.”

The spirit darted away, a bolt of light trailed by a halo of dust zipping through the corridors back to its home through the bleed.

In an hour, Michael had slumped over in his chair, his internal clock finally catching up with him.