#017 stops at a campus back entrance that had not been blocked off and says, “Did you clean out the dorm rooms?”

“Done and done,” Mr. Wilkins said through her earpiece. “By the way, why didn’t you use the laser gun earlier?” Mr. Wilkins curiously added.

“I was too busy trying to stay one step ahead of #32 that I honestly forgot about the prototype until the end there,” #017 truthfully replied.

Mr. Wilkins snorts and mutters to himself, “Humans.”

#017 crisply replies, “I heard that. Now, where are you? I have a bullet entry and exit wound that needs to be urgently stitched shut, but instead has been stuffed with linen napkins to stop the bleeding!”

Suddenly a loud car engine can be heard as a sleek Benz pulls up to a screeching halt in front of the entrance. The passenger door unlocks and the windows roll down to reveal a fluffy teddy bear in a familiar butler suit. “Milady, your chariot awaits,” Mr. Wilkins said.

#017 smirks as she enters and closes the door, leaning purposefully back on the leather seats. “Hey, don’t get blood on the new leather seats, you philistine!” Mr. Wilkins unhappily shouted.

“Just drive and fix me, NOW, Wilkins,” #017 muttered. “Besides I paid for the car so it’s mine.”

Mr. Wilkins mumbles, “Girls should always respect their bears.” Without waiting for a reply, Mr. Wilkins using his nanobot’s pushes the gas pedal and screeches forward. While he drives he sends a stream of his nanobots into his girl’s clothes to sew the wound shut. The nanobots start by fixing the inside damage first, before moving to close the skin on the outside. Despite, the pain of live surgery, #017 doesn’t move once nor let out a sound of pain except for closing her eyes and pressing her lips tightly together.

The airport soon appears before them as Mr. Wilkins drives directly onto the track and says, “So the personal jet is ready and waiting for us. Do you have a destination in mind?”

Before Mr. Wilkins can receive a reply, an older male with a calm smile and demeanor opens the passenger door and says, “It is wonderful to see you again, Miss Starr and Mr. Wilkins.”

“Yes, it’s been awhile Jerry to Rome, please,” #017 replied getting out of the car and walking out onto the tarmac towards the waiting jet.

Jerry had worked for Atlas Starr for many years and didn’t even bat an eyelash at seeing the Benz seats covered in blood nor at seeing of #017’ state. “Of course, Ma’am, I’ll let the Captain know. I’ll have the car cleaned and destroyed per usual. Is there anything else, Ma’am?” Jerry asked.

#017 climbs up the stairs of the private jet and says, “Yes, a new change of clothes and some aspirins accompanied please by a light meal.” Mr. Wilkins glares at Jerry with huff unhappy someone else was doing his job as he trots behind his girl.

Jerry warmly smiles and answers, “They are already waiting inside, ma’am.”

While #017 dresses in the bathroom, Jerry expertly washes down the car, before having the car dismantled into pieces right onto the tarmac and thrown into a garbage truck. With the bigger pieces being taken away to be sold off. By the time the private jet lifts off, there was zero trace left behind that such events had ever transpired.

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*

Hours after the incident, the campus was finally cleared and the students of the academy were allowed to return to their dorms to rest. There had been a total of two hundred students injured in the attack with 100 of those being serious injuries and 50 of those are still in a critical state. The tally of student’s dead was 33, much less than expected, which was not much of a relief to the family members of the deceased.

The families of the students were informed of the incident and immediately as foretold they were baying for blood. The council informed the grieving families that Principal Conrad would be removed and be replaced with someone new. The council attempted to appoint one of their own, but the crowd would not have it, they wanted someone with experience and could assure their children’s safety. Having their hand forced, the new principal elected was Professor James Stark. Given his already teaching position over Z Class, he would be managing both positions until a new suitable instructor was found for the class. With the meeting over, the families were escorted out leaving the council to deliberate the events.

The gathered council is silent and uneasy at the events that transpired, through which ones, no one could tell. Don Giovanni sighs and says, “I don’t know if this is a blessing or a curse, but at least now we have been given the green light to act by the Esper, Changeling, and Sanguniem Vorpal powerhouse families.”

“Yes, but that’s not much of a blessing,” A grizzly bearded council member drily muttered.

“Yes, but I want to know is what was the daughter of Atlas Starr doing at the academy?” Niko interjected. The room is silent in thought, after all, they all knew exactly what kind of man Atlas Starr was, the devils incarnate.

“From my understanding, Victoria Starr was raised in private schools and never had much of a relationship with her father and nor is she actively or ever been affiliated with her father’s organization. She shouldn’t pose a threat,” commented Sir Lancelot.

“Though I respect you, Sir Lancelot, I can’t agree with your sentiment. Do the actions of an innocent match what Victoria Starr callously did, shooting a suspect in front of the already shocked student body? Pardon me, but those do not seem the innocent actions of an innocent,” Niko stiffly retorted.

A tense air fills the room until Master Ferguson clears his throat. “Now, now, Niko, calm yourself. I for one find myself agreeing with Sir Lancelot, one can hardly expect the daughter of Atlas Starr to not have teeth nor fangs, but that does not make her the monster her father was. After all, weren't we the ones who invited her to attend the academy? Or have you all conveniently forgotten that fact?” Master Ferguson said as an embarrassed silence fills the room and a pink flush of anger crawls up Niko’s neck.

“And besides, the most important detail of all, Victoria Starr has no association with the group her father worked with. For the most part, she has never lived in the light, just quietly in the shadows. Unlike her father, Victoria Starr is not a threat in my opinion,” Master Ferguson clarified.

The council members nod as Niko sullenly leans back into her seat with her arms crossed over her bountiful chest. Don Giovanni smiles quietly to himself and says, “Yes, but now onto the important topic. Can we control James Stark? Because as of this point, I don’t think we can. James Stark is too much of a hero and alpha to be easily controlled and will not fall under our sway. What say, ye, chairman, Balik?”

The council turns to gaze at Balik, who replies, “I don’t believe it will be a problem in the long run. As you have said, Don Giovanni, James Stark is too much of an alpha. However, I do not believe he will stay in that position out of his own free will and choice for long at most two or three years. We just merely need to bide our time and as for his rocking the boat, well, we will just have to deal with the situation when it arises.”

The council lets out sounds of agreement and disperse soon after. Master Ferguson returns to his own private quarters and locks the door firmly behind him. A call soon arrives and Master Ferguson answers, “Yes, child?”

“It will be taken care of,” Adolf coolly stated.

“Good, good. We can’t have any loose ends running around,” Master Ferguson replied, before hanging up the phone. Crossing his hands over his chest, Master Ferguson lays down on his bed to sleep for a night’s rest. Within seconds, loud snores can be heard as Master Ferguson’s chest rises slowly up and down at peace.