A conspicuous pair of Kitezan detectives landed near - and entered into - the Ministerial building of Oceanside’s Royal Quarter. It had been nearly a week since the explosion at the Stroneface Bluffs facility, and the preliminary investigation into it had been completed. With directions through the building given and notice sent ahead, the two investigators went up to the building’s second floor, and found themselves in front of the office of the Magistrate of the Eastern District.

[The Honorable Regulus Laurier]

They entered within, flashed their badges at the front-desk clerk, and took a seat in the little waiting room. Three businessmen were already there waiting, but authority came before politicking, and soon, the pair were led into the Magistrate’s office. The man himself was busy at his desk, but he gestured at a pair of seats in front of it.

“General Laurier.” The first detective started, getting a subtle side-eye as he took the seat and pulled up a briefcase.

“That was some time ago.” The Magistrate answered, and put a pin in his work, “What do you want?”

“We’ve concluded the initial sweep of the personnel files from the Stoneface incident, and – as you know – only one person was noted as missing.” The second spoke-up, “I believe you knew her by her alias, Kourin, and she was a tech researcher under your employ.”

“And?”

“We have reason to believe she absconded voluntarily.” The first explained, and set a conduit onto the desk to offer it forward. Regulus looked at it curiously, “Witnesses say she returned to the site the night of the explosion, and that she stated she was there to return one of the nanotech cannisters that you had seized from the Luminaries prior to that.”

“Right. We recovered that one.” Regulus nudged his head to a bookcase near to the door, and showed the intact container from the Vindicator test, the crushed – albeit empty - one from the escape-vehicle, and finally, the dented one found at the bottom of the pit, “She had taken one home to work on in her own time.”

“We have no evidence showing she left after that, though.” The first detective continued, and withdrew a glasses-case from the inside of his jacket, and set it on the desk, “We conducted a search of her apartment in town. There was nothing perishable remaining in the unit, no pets, no trash. If nothing else, she’s a very courteous missing person.”

“So, you don’t think she’s dead somewhere further down in the sub-basement?”

“No.”

“And the glasses? Why bring them to me?”

“They’re of Luminary make.”

That made the man’s brows wrinkle a little, and he picked the case up to withdraw those spectacles, “…I suppose it could be suspicious for her to have such technology, but not entirely unheard of, considering the research she did.”

“It would still be considered contraband in Kitez, however.” The second detective noted, “We have reason to suspect she might’ve been a deep-plant from the Council.”

Regulus looked at them squarely, “I certainly hope you have good reason for that. She worked for me for a while.”

“Her entire profile is only as old as her employment at that building.” The first explained, and tapped a finger down on the conduit, “All the information we gathered is on here, but suffice it to say…it’s a profile that, on its face, looks rather clean. It has everything one would expect to find when doing a background check on someone applying for work. A forensic dig into it, however, proved that the information had only existed for about four years, even if the data it contained should have had time-stamps dating back to her date of birth. Someone went to great lengths to manufacture this dossier.”

“Maybe she moved here from Sargon prior. Movement was still relatively free between us before they called in the Luminaries two years back.”

“Not with a history stating she was born here.”

“I see.” The Magistrate answered simply, and pulled the arms of the glasses open, looking at the inside of the lenses from a small distance. On a whim, he slipped them over his eyes, and almost right away, saw a flashing dot appear before him, as if a circle of green light hovered in the air over his desk. His brow wrinkled slightly, “…Thank you for coming. You can go now. If you find anything else, let me know.”

“Yessir.”

The duo stepped out, and the door clicked shut behind them, leaving Regulus in near-total silence. It was easy to see that the glasses themselves offered nothing to correct one’s vision, and were purely a screen upon which to display the imagery he was seeing. One hand went forward, trying to find a way to interact with the flashing green circle, but no matter how near or far he swiped, the circle seemed out of reach. It was only when he moved his face away from the door that he noticed another button was visible – one that had been much harder to see where it overlapped the elaborate wooden paneling that framed the door. That button was interactive, and after tapping, swiping, pressing, and holding a finger against it in various combinations, he finally found a way to make it open something.

It was a network list, with roughly 60 entries.

Deathly curious, but unsure what any of it meant, Regulus started clicking on everything. The first entry on the list simply said ‘out of range,’ and so too did the next 16. The 17th item on the list, however, said ‘connected,’ which was unexpected…and further still was the fact that one of the three nanotech pods on the shelf – the one that had been dented from the debris that fell on it at the facility - lit-up with the same green circular light that had been flashing on the main screen. Looking between them curiously, Regulus wondered if it wasn’t a fluke, and tapped a finger on it again. As before, ‘connected,’ followed by three flashes of the green light. The 18th entry flashed yellow instead and reported ‘connection issue, trying again…’ and a matching yellow light blinked on the pod that had been used at the Vindicator, while the 19th was greyed out entirely, as if it was merely a log of a connection that no longer existed. The 20th once-again said ‘out of range,’ and the following five more said the same thing.

“…Interesting.”

.

Rain tapped quietly on huge glass windows, leaving the morning over-casted in dark clouds. Ren stared at the ceiling with half-opened eyes, watering for lack of sleep. She turned her head on her pillow – Furion was blissfully asleep next to her – then turned forward again, “…Of course…”

With a grumble, she gave up, and rolled towards the edge of the bed. She shuffled across the room, headed into the bathroom, and as the lights started to fade on, she put her hands on the edge of the vanity. With a deep breath, she cut off the color-augment app she’d had on for days, and stared at her now-completely-white hair.

“Okay, you insidious bitch, what are you waiting for?” She asked quietly, posing the question to her own reflection, “If you’re so much stronger with an afflicted host, why bother with me? Why won’t you get out? You didn’t do fuck-all while Gabriel was right in front of me, and yet spent all night making me dream about making-out with him, like you think you can use the urge to drive me into his arms or something. Yet you won’t – or maybe can’t - do anything if I’m standing in front of him anyway.”

That annoying anxiety swelled in her chest; she knew the entity was trying to do something, but what it was, she couldn’t tell.

“…You want me to go to him so badly…but you know I won’t let you have him.” She grumbled, and stepped back to lean against the wall behind her instead, “I’ll take you with me into the grave before I tell him what’s going on. This stupid plan of yours to seek me out, like you thought I’d be an easy stepping-stone…and now you can’t do anything but keep me up at night with horny dreams, and make me look stupid.” She grabbed her hair to pull it over a shoulder, and gestured at it in frustration, “This doesn’t go with my complexion at all!”

Still nothing; just the frustration that naturally came out of being shown nigh-pornographic imagery for the last several hours. She glowered at her reflection in severe annoyance and made her way over to the shower instead. White hair took on a ruddy, dull-grey look as water rushed over it, and Ren scrubbed at it like she could somehow wash the bleaching out of it. It obviously wouldn’t work, and she just slouched until she could sit instead, and leaned back against the contoured back of the tub until the steaming water filled all around her.

She perched her elbows up on the edges, and set her head against her right hand, eyes locked onto the faucet in contemplation.

“I will…get out…”

Water splashed as she twitched from the surprise and looked around, “Who was that?”

“…You’ll…release me…very soon.”

That was concerning; more so was the fact that she could feel those words being spoken with her own lips. Were she still in front of the mirror, she would’ve also seen that the whites of her eyes had gone completely black again. A hand went up over her mouth in surprise though, “…How soon? What are you going to do…?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It was terrifying that she could feel how the beast made her own lips smile, and an eerie-quiet laugh escaped her lungs, “…You…will call out to him…before too long.”

Her eyes went back to normal after that, and a sinking feeling settled over her, weighing down as though a sandbag had been dropped on top her soul. A drag of air quaked in her throat, and she reached to hug her arms around her knees, “…Damn it…”

It wasn’t too long before she heard a knuckle tap against the door, and heard it slide open. Ren turned her gaze towards the blonde-haired head that poked through, looking past her arm and shoulder with a worried expression.

“…Oh, you turned the optics off.” Furion commented, a bit surprised, and he stepped all the way through. Clad in just a pair of sweat-pants, the remnants of the bruises from his broken ribs were just a faint – albeit still sickly-looking – yellow-green color on his skin. He stepped closer and crouched to sit beside the tub, and reached one arm over the edge to pet his palm into that wet hair, “You look exhausted.”

Her brow felt heavy over her eyes, and she nodded, “…I…don’t think I should be at the memorial today.”

“I don’t think you can get out of it, unless you’re willing to tell Lord Rylen exactly why.”

Ren just buried her face against her knees and sighed, “Then I can’t be allowed anywhere near Gabe… As soon as it’s done, we have to go.”

“…Okay.”

.

The pavement was still wet when the first signs of the procession emerged, and scattered puddles rippled and splashed in the afternoon sunlight as glossy-shoed steps went through. Marching in lock-step, a few hundred Sixth Wing soldiers moved in rows of five, extending back by ten columns as they guided chariots through the roadways of the Memorial Park. Each chariot carried the urn of a different Knight – whether they had cremated remains or not was never stated, as was the case with their manner of dying – and were pulled by the strength of two chimeras, the likeness of which was a combination of draft-horse and elk.

All in attendance wore black with a lapel of dark blue, and hundreds more lined the edges of the path as the ceremony passed by. In the center of the park, around the fountain, the chariots circled and came to a stop as each was brought forward towards their Eidolon. He waited there at the Memorial Wall, and as each urn came to him, so too did the loved ones of those who’d come to remember them. Final words were spoken, and the urns were placed in their slots; places of honor.

As surviving Fafnir, the five were close to the Memorial circle, but as soldiers, they were counted amongst the wall of mournful faces, watching the ceremony take place from a small distance. Only the Eidolon and the families were permitted up on the walkway in front of the Memorial itself.

And that was where Ren – hair augmented to black again - found her gaze fixated.

Standing off to the side were the two leaders of the Fourth, paying their respects with quiet patience. Etienne was there with them, looking rather toned-down from her usual extra display, and beside them in turn was a particularly strange-looking boy. Perhaps 12 years old, but with bright, luminescent blue eyes; the sight of him would probably be one of the only – if not the only – time most people would ever see the Third in their entire lives.

The service was far enough away from the main streets around the park that spectators from the public couldn’t peer inside. That didn’t stop the determined, however, especially those who had the power to slip by unseen. With the barest bit of news starting to get out that there was a memorial service happening at all, Kourin hurried there to get a look. With her eyes alight, she could walk right down the main thoroughfare without being noticed, and paused at the mouth of the fountain-circle as the last three urn-carrying chariots were queued-up to go around. It was a slow-moving procession, and there was still plenty of waiting to do, so Kourin could take a long look around without bother.

One thing she was very keen to gander at was the little group of Fafnir Knights; being so long in Kitez, she’d been cut off from information about the outside world, and had no idea who was who within that little club. It was easy enough to single them out though; soldiers of the Sixth they may have been, but as special ops forces, their funerary blacks were uniquely different from everyone else’s, looking a little bit more ornamental than the rest.

That, and Furion’s Captain’s regalia gave him away as the Aegis’ commander, so he stuck out like a sore thumb.

So up close, Kourin’s heart still raced, but she got closer to the walkway-barrier and took each of their measure, So these are the ones who lived. Scyrexian said it was one of the women it needed…so…one of these two? She side-stepped past Lequerion and Seth, and found Ravan first, looking on at the Memorial Wall. She got unnervingly close, turning her head this way and that as she inspected the woman for any sign. Not sensing anything though, she moved on to the corner, and did the same thing to Ren. For a moment, Kourin turned to look in the direction Ren had been staring, and spotted the Eidolon of the Fourth there, Xanarken! …And…wow, Gabriel’s so tall now.

That waif of a woman turned back to the Fafnir after that…and realized Ren was staring straight at her, green eyes wide - surrounded by black - and fixated.

Kourin took a big step back. She dared not shriek or even gasp in surprise, even as a finger lifted to Scyren’s lips.

“Shh.”

“…Scyrexian…” Kourin whispered. She had the temerity to blink though, and the sight was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

Ren seemed to disassociate and was trying to regain her senses, putting that shushing hand up to cover her eyes instead.

“You okay?” Furion wondered quietly, bending down towards her slightly, “Ren?”

The Dame shook her head, but when she looked up again, the strange image she’d seen was gone. She looked around in confusion, “I…thought I saw something.”

The carriages moved around the circle, and as the one that had been idling at the front went by to leave, Gabriel looked past it into the crowd. He’d spotted the Fafnir earlier on, and with Ren on the corner, she was the easiest of the whole bunch to see. Though the ceremony only carried on for another 20 minutes, it felt like far longer, and as the massive crowds started to disperse, Gabriel stayed close to the wall. He looked on at those unfortunate new names, and took a few paces back towards the steps to take the whole sight of it in.

“…You’re not going to talk to Ren?” Xanarken wondered, coming up beside him, “She may not stick around for long.”

“I feel like there’s probably a reason why she’s ghosted me.” He answered with a grim sigh, “I don’t want to make it harder for her by foisting myself onto her. Not here…”

“She’s been staring at you the entire time though. You were so worried she’d think you an asshole for not talking to her.”

“Staring in the direction of the ceremony isn’t the same as staring straight at me.” Gabriel corrected dubiously, “And I’ve left a few messages already…she never answered a single one.”

“Well, fine, then I’ll go talk to her on my own.”

“Wh-…Wait, Xanarken!”

The Fourth had already shifted his mantle too far forward though and Gabriel could do nothing but watch with dread as the Eidolon weaved through the crowd. People were filtering out from the walkways to approach the memorial, and the fountain rotunda was starting to get crowded. There was no stopping it – Xanarken approached the Fafnir like they were his own – and Gabriel felt his heart drop into his gut.

“Lord Xanarken…” Ren started, feeling that hand on her shoulder again, “We…were just about to go.”

“I understand. Never in history have so many Fafnir been interred at the same time…it’s a heavy weight to bear.” He answered, and loosely clasped his hands behind his back, “Gabe says he’s been trying to get hold of you, but you haven’t responded. I know it was agonizing to have Rylen send you away, but…do you have to punish Gabe over it?”

Furion side-eyed the Eidolon dubiously; not being able to argue with the man was rather frustrating.

Ren just looked down and took a half-step back, “I’m not…trying to punish him. I’d like more than anything to talk to him, but…it’s probably not a good idea right now. Lord Rylen’s probably watching us. I don’t want to give him any reason to reprimand me.” She said; it wasn’t difficult to say since it was technically true.

“He can’t punish you if I’m moderating.” The Fourth countered, and gestured back at his Vice to come forward. Gabriel looked worried and annoyed at the same time, but Xanarken was still technically his superior, and he started coming down those wide steps.

Ren felt her heart jump into her throat, and she quickly grabbed for her partner’s hand. Her eyes were locked on the man as he got closer; she couldn’t turn away, no matter how hard she tried.

Furion could feel her shaking through that tight grip, and tried to get her attention, “Ren, just breathe. It’s fine.”

“What’s the matter?” Ravan wondered; she, Corbin, and Jense were still nearby, and Ravan could sense a rise in the local temperature.

“Block my line of sight!” Ren begged; it was a relief to know her voice was still her own, “Furion, please!”

Not understanding, but knowing how to follow an order anyway, Furion did just that, and cupped the side of his hand against her face like a blinder, “What’s happening?” He asked, and got a full view of the dark color creeping into her scleras. Not only that, but her evergreen irises had gone a deep, bloody red, “Shit, your eyes-”

“Dame, are you well?” Xanarken wondered, and made the grave mistake of getting close again. Maybe Ren could see the edge of him past Furion’s hand, or maybe she could sense it, but whatever it was, something made her react viscerally…and Xanarken got gut-checked as she pushed him away with an elbow.

It wouldn’t have been an issue under normal circumstances; the mantle gave-way as it normally would have, but deep beneath the city, where his true body was kept safe and hidden in the Eidolon System, Xanarken coughed and gasped into the oxygen-mask covering the lower half of his face.

Ren looked on in horror; everything seemed to happen in slow-motion. The Fourth buckled slightly; Gabriel stopped dead in his tracks – blocked by a number of people between them still, he couldn’t really see what happened – and Ren took several steps back, bumping into the rest of the Fafnir in the process. Voices questioned her from all sides, and her pulse raced in her ears. All she could do was flee.

She knew the layout of the area well enough, and roughly where all the different mourners had been standing, so when she blindly leapt over them, she could only hope no one would get in her way. As she felt the descent of her arc, she peeked her eyes open for the landing, and just kept going.

“Ren?” Was the general consensus amongst those who knew her.

“None of you go after her.” Furion ordered, staring at his subordinates. He turned then to Gabriel, “You leave her alone.” He emphasized that by pointing straight at the man, and quickly turned to follow after the woman, the lengths of that long cape flicking at the air until he was out of ear-shot.

The action didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else nearby, and there was no shortage of Sixth Wingers wondering what the Hell was going on. Seth and Lequerion gaped at one another as well, only to stare at the two Fourth Wingers who were staring in stunned horror in the direction the duo had escaped in.

Gabriel finally got his wits about him though and went to his Eidolon’s side, “Xanarken? Why are you cringing like that?”

“…I…don’t know?” He answered, “…I felt that one.”

“How the Hell did you feel that!?” The blonde harped quietly, barely audible over the sound of the crowd, “That should’ve been nothing worse than a whiff!”

“I’ll be back later.” The Fourth grumbled, and abruptly vanished into his footsteps.

“Xanarken!”

The Fafnir looked on at the Vice in utter confusion, “…What is happening right now…?” Corbin wondered for them all.

Rylen had witnessed the dispersal from a distance, his attention grabbed by Ren leaping through the air – as had Etienne and Arbelos’. Though the First thought nothing of it in particular – after all, it had been him that told Ren not to look so satisfied with Gabriel before – the Fifth was worried. Arbelos stared on indifferently and took Xanarken’s lead, vanishing before anyone could drag him into anything.

Standing far enough away to not be bumped into, Kourin had watched the whole thing unfold from beneath the stealth of her afflictive barrier. She turned her gaze in the direction Ren had run, …It almost happened just now, didn’t it?