Lars was upon himself with shock and astonishment at the revelation; his assistant, Leonard, who he had taken for granted as an aide of his other self, was more than anything he anticipated beforehand. His expectations had previously landed on an identity similar to Siegfried—perhaps even his old self carried a tacit understanding of this upon employing him.
However, there was a much deeper implication, far more sinister in nature, than simple expertise in the mystic. What exactly did it mean to have ‘no beginning or end’, or for his established role of an assistant to be transcendent over time? Was the man speaking in some kind of jest or charlatan-esque manner? Lars knew that no answer he received from asking would satisfy his suspicions.
There was merely one thing he wished to acknowledge. Trying his utmost to remain calm, appearing unconcerned around hearing the specific details, he simply asked, “Are you on my side?”
Leonard, as if the answer was obvious, replied, “I’m your assistant.”
Regardless, Lars repeated himself. Nothing besides a definite answer was acceptable. He asked again, “Are you on my side?”
Noticing his firm tone, Leonard truly met his eyes; with a slight grin, he answered, “Yes.”
“Then that’s all I need to know,” Lars nodded. He moved on, as if the ominous discussion had merely been a pre-established jest between the two, “What do you think of Siegfried? Have you had a chance to meet him yet?”
Leonard pondered the question, “Siegfried… He’s dangerous—I can say that for sure.”
“How can you tell?”
“The way he carries himself? You’ve only participated in normal wars, facing nothing exceeding logic, so you wouldn’t understand…”
“Really?” Lars didn’t doubt what his assistant said, since even the voice placed importance on Siegfried. He would be a fool to downplay that man's potential to aid them, especially after taking such risks and measures to ensure he stays, but how strong can one person be? His memory of Rhys’ successive leaps across space skewed his ideas of strength—the feeling now was similar to when Sgt. Petersen stated that she was going to kill both Troels and Jensen before he went and did as such.
“I’m confident. Disregarding the thing lurking in the darkness, whatever it may be, Siegfried is more than capable of killing every person in this mansion without ever unsheathing his sword.”
“Are you serious? What—does he have some kind of mystical power?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“So you made that judgement without accounting for mystical powers…” Lars sighed, exasperated.
Hopefully, this assessment of his strength, if it was accurate, would prove beneficial for them. But as Siegfried’s might became more apparent, Lars' wariness grew in correspondence. The thing that needed his presence to be dealt with was something of similar magnitude most likely. He was exploring sufficiently, as Rhys wanted him to, but was he nearing too close to death?
Although, the abnormalities were already present when I got here… Lars lamented his unlucky position in which he was forced into. Of course, a ‘satyress’ was targeting him even before he arrived; which was then his problem to deal with afterwards.
Lars sighed, then went to end the conversation. “There isn’t much that can be done yet. I don’t suppose you know what else is lurking in my mansion, judging from what you’ve said so far; or you simply aren't telling me. But for now… We have to see if Siegfried can dig something up.”
“It’s that or it takes the initiative and attacks him first,” Leonard said.
“There’s no guarantee one of us won’t be its target. It might target Vanessa, my sons, or other staff like Carl. Since we don’t know what it is, either, we can’t know with what means it will operate. Stay aware and tell me about anything odd—I’ll do the same.”
Leonard suggested, “Should we share information with Siegfried too?”
Lars thought about it, then answered, “If he asks, then it’s better to tell him about any abnormalities we see. But other than that… let’s watch what he does on his own.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Leonard agreed. He then paused, taking the opportunity to ask before leaving, “Do you really not intend to ask about what I meant?”
Lars chuckled, “I’m not overly concerned. Tell me what’s relevant, then we can bother with the nitty-gritty—when everything is resolved.”
Leonard furrowed his brow. He scratched his head, then commented ambiguously, “You really have changed.”
“Perhaps,” Lars didn’t elaborate on the reason why or make excuses. Leonard nodded, then left the office without another word. It was still unclear where Leonard would head towards from here. A temptation to follow him surfaced in Lars’ mind, but he decided not to. He was serious about remaining focused on what was in front of him.
In the following days, Lars held a profound paranoia, not unknown to him but unique on this occasion, and time passed laboriously. The feeling of suspension when forced to wait in anticipation of an attack was something a soldier knew far too well; but this time, standard weaponry was not the threat. There were no limits to how something may happen—he couldn’t even guarantee that Vanessa, Damien, or Charles wouldn’t be a facet used to reach him.
He convened with Leonard on many occasions. Throughout the day, he would spend time with his family, as if nothing was awry. But when the two of them gathered in his office, his expression steadily grew grave as nothing turned up.
In the meantime, Siegfried never sought him out. They rarely interacted and he didn’t seem to be doing a lot. Lars’ mansion didn’t even need to provide him meals; he simply took food when necessary, leaving the attributed cost behind. Vanessa understood that his reason for being here was due to ongoing investigations and further protection—which she took surprisingly well.
Lars didn’t hear from the enigmatic voice either, not receiving any more revelations or guidance on what to do from here on. The stillness of everything was uncanny!
It was when Lars was inhabiting his office that someone knocked on his doors. He went over, expecting Leonard to have come over for the usual conversation, where they would discuss how nothing had happened, but unexpectedly, someone else was there. His eyes widened and he instantly became wary.
The person standing timidly behind the door was another maid, someone who he hadn’t interacted with extensively so far. She was slightly older than Victoria, which was visually identifiable by half a decade or so, and held a more mature countenance. Her long black hair was combed flat, while her bangs were neatly pulled to the side to not obscure her face.
This… Don’t tell me… Lars contemplated the meaning of this. It was eerily similar to when Victoria had suddenly shown up, for a servant wouldn’t normally be permitted to come straight to his office like so.
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She muttered, her voice an octave deeper than Victoria, “Master…”
“Did something happen?” Lars asked. He suspected that her visit, although with the potential of holding similar reasons, must’ve been because something had occurred; compared to Victoria, she didn’t quite have the bold presence that conveyed her right to be here.
Not immediately stating her business, she asked, “May I come in?”
Lars eyed her suspiciously.
A moment later, he sat at his desk and awaited the maid’s explanation. She, on the other hand, stood without taking a seat and lowered her head. Her lips trembled as she rallied the courage to speak.
“These past few days…” she started.
“Yes?” Lars said, insisting she speak her mind. His interest increased with the mention of recent occurrences. Anything happening within the past few days, that demanded immediate attention, was crucial to know about!
“I… I’ve been watching you, and…
The maid’s face flushed, before she bashfully exclaimed, “There’s no way for me to hold back... I’ve come to hold deep affection for you, Lars! I know you have a wife and children, so I don’t expect to be anything of worth to you, but if you would accept me as your mistress even, then I would be forever happy!”
Lars was speechless. He repeated the maid’s words in his head, looking at them from various angles, analysing hidden meanings or details in between the lines, but he still couldn’t come to a rational point. A maid had suddenly professed her feelings for him—for the second time!
Lars' instinctive reaction was to plainly reject this, but something stood out to him. The specific mention of ‘these past few days’ stood out like a sore thumb. Had she only developed this affection from that point? It was far too conspicuous, so he questioned her, “You discovered these feelings in the past few days?”
The maid was shaking, her nerves making it difficult to simply remain standing, but she answered faithfully, “Yes, I did…”
Lars further asked, “Can you remember which day specifically?”
“March 14th...”
“What day is it today?”
Her expression was becoming confused, being asked so many things unrelated to the confession, but the maid answered regardless.
“March 17th.”
Three days ago… That was the morning after killing Victoria, when I met the police officers, the priest, and Siegfried! Lars confirmed his suspicions. He only had one more question to ask, which was needed to make a conclusion.
“Had there ever been any such inclinations—of your affection towards me—before March 14th?”
“I don’t think so…” She attempted to recall, but came up with nothing. “No, I only started to see you this way from then on.”
Lars sighed. He lamented inwardly, Victoria… This is your doing, isn’t it…? What the hell did you do to me? Is this karma for killing you?
As he was starting to get a headache, trying to figure out how exactly to deal with this, Lars heard a voice that belonged neither to him or the maid.
“Fate’s unchosen.”
Lars almost fell from his chair in shock, barely managing to keep his composure. However, his face did end up resembling someone who had been bitten by a large insect. This elicited a reaction from the maid, who noticed it; but rather than questioning his odd behaviour, she lightly chuckled with an affectionate look in her eyes. Her strong infatuation apparently found it an endearing sight.
The voice continued, unchanging and relentless, not allowing Lars to mull over the previous words.
“Born without purpose or meaning, you are the ultimate wildcard. May you embody chaos and remain unpredictable—unseen by those who see everything.”
What… What does that mean? Lars looked up at the maid, who was still patiently waiting. He wanted to denounce her quickly, so he could listen properly, but the voice was piercing. As if digging into his brain directly, his thoughts grew sluggish to the point that his focus was on nothing else but the words it spoke.
“Kill without remorse, then eat among humans. Befriend or betray. It is your discretion.”
While he was stuck, barely unable to move or say a word, Lars noticed a strange look enter the maid’s eyes. Her timidity and bashfulness was disappearing at a rapid rate as her eyes scanned him over like a vulture flying around a corpse. She smiled, passing a knowing glance, as if an idea had been ingrained into her by his lack of reaction. Because of his his inaction, she, likewise, chose to respond with action.
Lars found this dangerous. He wanted to quickly speak, demanding for her to leave his office. However, he found himself unable to. The voice continued speaking, in which its extended utterances—on another level compared to the two or three words said before—thoroughly incapacitated him. Meanwhile, the maid wrapped around the desk silently.
“You have no power—but you can appropriate theirs. That is your true strength.”
What…? What is that supposed to—wait, no, first, let me move! Stop… talking… Hey! Can’t you hear…. Me?! Lars shouted from within the prison of his own mind. Before he could blink, the maid, whose name he didn’t even know, was hovering over him wordlessly.
She whispered something, but Lars struggled to hear her. “I…” “un…erstand.” “...ou…” “an’t” “s…y” "it..." “...o…” “trigh” “, can…” “...u?” “B…” y…u…” “ar…” t…” “s..” “...y…” “ng… “ “no.”
The voice then spoke for the last time:
“For your current capacity, only one slot remains. 1/2—’seduction’.”
Finally, the sluggish spell broke off. Lars stood up and distanced himself from the maid. Her expression was blank now, passive to his actions as if she was merely responding reactively. She wasn't doing anything now that he was moving again. Lars took a deep breath first, then instructed her, “Leave my office. I won’t betray my wife, Vanessa, by being unfaithful again. It is advised that you forget about these fleeting emotions.”
The maid didn’t show much of a reaction. She nodded compliantly, turning around and leaving without saying a word. Something told Lars that she really wouldn’t be able to recount what happened here.