There he stood in front of the open door to his room, mouth open and aghast. Zander’s mind raced with confusion and misplaced logic. What he saw standing on the other side of his door challenged every preconceived notion that he had. It was an unexpected sight, to say the least. In all honesty, even his highly intelligent brain had a hard time comprehending what he saw.

Standing with their backs partially illuminated by the hallway lighting, stood two figures. The taller one stepped in front of the shorter one, lighting the cigarette that was in his mouth. His 5 o’clock shadow was uneven and unkempt, showing his ruggedness.

After taking a puff of his cancer-stick, the man said, “So, Zander Nenmos, this is where you’ve been hidin’ out, huh?”

A worrying recognition was ever-present in Zander’s mind. He knew who this guy was. He knew that he had seen him before. Scenes of his school on fire flashed through his head, followed by him and his friends fleeing the Rising Red casino, chased by this very figure. Standing in front of Zander was the fire-finger guy.

“You know,” the man continued, “your lot has been a tough one to track down, especially for being wanted internationally. But it looks like your luck has run out. You fled to the one place I know better than the back of my hand—you fled to my home town.”

“N-Now hold on,” Zander stuttered, “I think we may have a misunderstanding.”

The man then took a step forward. “Oh I don’t think there is one.”

Just before the man could approach any closer, the other figure stepped in front of him. This figure was shorter and thinner. As Zander looked at this figure, his own mind fought with him. Half of him recognized the figure’s soft eyes and caring smile, but the other half of him refused to acknowledge reality. However, the image was right in front of him—his eyes have never deceived him, and they were starting to tear up.

“Now, now, Hal,” the smaller figure said to the fire-finger guy, “I think you’ve had enough fun.” The smaller figure then looked at Zander. “Sorry about that, Zan.”

“...Eliot?” was all Zander could say.

To his disbelief, a person that looked exactly like his supposedly departed friend stood before him. His darkened skin, his dreaded hair, his delicate hands, and all other physical characteristics seemed identical to Eliot. More importantly, however, was that this person’s demeanor and personality were exactly the same, too. But he just couldn’t accept it. It was like looking at the face of death and talking to a walking ghost.

“Yes?” Eliot replied with a jovial smile. “Is something wrong?”

Zander’s emotions immediately went through a journey, and his face mimicked that. It went slack, then as tense as a steel, and then it would rapidly change between confused and dismissive. In what seemed like a year-long emotional adventure, a single second went by in the real world.

The result was: Zander broke.

Rushing up to Eliot, Zander had tears in his eyes. He wrapped himself around Eliot’s body, bringing him in for a total embrace. The moment they made contact, for the first time in a while, Zander’s mind felt at ease. The racing thoughts were no more and his heart continued to beat in a rhythmic way.

“I thought you were dead,” Zander cried.

“Dead?” Eliot asked “What do you mean?”

“They told me you were dead. Vincent told me that you were killed.”

“Oh…” Eliot replied, his grip on Zander loosening.

Both of them haphazardly pulled away and looked at each other with confusion in their eyes. Zander’s stare was joyful tears mixed with confusion, while Eliot’s was a slight depression mixed with it.

Eliot then softened his eyes. “There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

***

On the northern side of the city, in a small condo, were four people. Eliot and Zander sat on an older couch, surrounded by a bit of dust in the air. Across from them, with a lit cigarette in his mouth, was Hal. The fourth person, however, was busy making tea in the kitchen.

Tapping his feet fairly quickly, Zander had his folded hands put in front of his face. He had to constantly push up his glasses because his slightly shaking wiggled them down his nose. Eliot, who was next to him, had a hand on his shoulder, reassuring him.

“So,” Zander started to ask Hal, “what do we need to talk about? And why are we all the way up here?”

Hal, who was sitting in a chair across from those two, blew some smoke out of his mouth and said, “First things first, I believe some introductions are in order. My name is Hal Fordren and I’m an international detective.”

“Wait, so then in Egypt…”

“Yeah, that was me,” he said, his voice low and gravely. “I was there chasin’ after you all, but then Lucretia suddenly appeared, dethroned and ready to be locked up—something no one in law enforcement had been able to do.”

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“So then you know—”

“Yes, yes,” Hal replied, interrupting Zander and waving his hand, dismissively. “Eliot told me everything. I’m gonna be honest, if you told me this months ago, I wouldn’t have believed you. But,” he said, putting his cigarette out on the ashtray next to his chair, “with everything I’ve seen throughout the world and especially in my home, I don’t have a lot of reasons to doubt you anymore.”

Zander then looked over at Eliot with a coked head and asked, “So how did you two meet, then?”

Eliot motioned over to Hal, who turned their head towards the kitchen. Hal then said to the unseen person within there, “Do you want to explain this one?”

Just then, someone appeared around the kitchen corner. They were a slightly rotund man, with a welcoming smile and nice suit. He walked into the living room with a platter of crackers in one hand and a plate full of steaming teacups.

“Of course, of course,” Lawrence said, hastily setting the food and drinks down on the table. “Also, feel free to take whatever you want.”

Eliot immediately took a cup of tea and a couple crackers.

Lawrence then dragged a chair from the kitchen into the living room and sat down. He slapped his legs on his thighs and readjusted his posture.

“Well,” he said, “I’m the one who introduced them to each other, but it’s a bit of a long story.” He rubbed his hand on his balding head and let out an awkward chuckle. “Where do I start? I suppose that I would say that it started when I was younger and—”

“Damnit, Lawrence,” Hal replied with rolling eyes, “just get to the point.”

“Oh, uh, sorry,” Lawrence replies. “Anyways, I’ve known Hal for a long time and have been working with him to try and take down Libra from the inside.”

“Exactly,” Hal agreed. “For years, I’ve been trying to take down the various gangs and whatnot in this city, especially Libra. They’ve been behind a lot of the underground deals and have been thwarting a lot of my efforts against the elites across the seas. They use the charitable image of their leader, Archard, to justify a lot of their exploits, but anyone with half a brain can see past their thin facade. In fact, Archard is the most wicked out of all of them.”

“Boy was I surprised to find out how cruel of a man Archard is,” Lawrence added. “He’s a stone-cold killer. Ain’t that unexpected of the charitable billionaire, himself?”

Zander shrugged his shoulders. “Not really,” he casually said. “I’ve been around those kinds of people my whole life. I know what kind of assholes and gremlins those upper elites are.”

“Oh really?” Hal said, leaning in closer.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t really matter,” Zander said, dismissively. He then turned back towards Lawrence. “I just want to know how you and Eliot met, and why Libra thinks he’s dead.”

“Right,” Lawrence said, shaking his head. “You see, no one in the mob ever takes me seriously or really pays attention to me. So I happen to overhear a lot of conversations. One of them was about a mission that involved escorting a bunch of Archard’s millionaire friends out of the country. Since those are the people we’re after, I reported that back to Hal.”

“But somehow those ruffians in Aries caught wind of this too and got there before we could,” Hal added. “Shot and killed every one of them.” He then clenched his teeth and lit another cigarette with his hand. “That ain’t justice.”

“Yeah…” Lawrence reluctantly said. “Anyways, I convinced Archard to let me go inspect the battlefield and report back. At first, I saw nothing but blood and dead bodies. However, upon looking at them, I saw that it wasn’t just all of the millionaires, but there were also Aries grunts among them too. The weirdest part was how all the bodies were mutilated and shredded in ways I had never seen before.”

Eliot’s face turned away and sank into darkness.

“Just as my confusion began to set in, I saw him,” Lawrence continued to say, motioning towards Eliot. “He was barely standing and when I asked him who he was, he simply replied “A monster” and collapsed. I brought him back to this place, my home, and cared for him. At the same time, I told Archard that there were no survivors. After that, I introduced Eliot to Hal, who had just recently come back to London. We three then talked and came to an understanding of each other. We bonded over wanting to take down Archard.”

There was a moment of silence that followed Lawrence’s explanation. Zander let his words ruminate within him. It was a lot of information to process. There were a lot of emotions to contemplate, too. In all honesty, he had a terribly tough time going through everything in his head. He continued to struggle more and more, and he found himself getting lost deeper within his mind.

Just as he was about to lose himself, he felt a warm sensation on his shoulder. He snapped back to reality. When his eyes refocused, they were looking into Eliot’s. All doubts and confusion ceased to exist. His mind opened and his thoughts were able to flow freely. All the stress that he put himself under was gone.

“Alright,” Zander gently said. “I think I get it. At the very least, I’m just glad that Eliot is safe.” He then turned directly toward Hal and Lawrence. “So, after saying all of that, I still want to know something.”

“Yes?” Hal asked.

“Why’d you tell me? What’s the purpose? What do you need from Eliot and I?”

Hal took a long, drawn-out breath, inhaling almost the entirety of his cigarette. Once it reached the butt, he flicked it into the ashtray. He then exhaled, allowing a massive plume of smoke to swirl around him.

“You see,” Hal finally said, “it actually involves your other friends.”

“Other friends?” Zander reiterated.

“Vincent Huron and that Fang person,” Hal said, pointing at Zander. “Seeing as they are already inside of Libra, we figured that maybe we can use them to take the mob out from the inside. And since they are your friends, we need your help. What do ya say?”

Zander averted his gaze and bit the inside of his lip.

“I don’t know if they’re our friends anymore,” Zander reluctantly said.

“What do you mean?” Hal asked.

“Yeah, Zan, what are you talking about?” Eliot added.

As Zander turned back to look at Eliot to explain, he felt his heart start to break when he looked at him. There was a nostalgic sadness that washed over him. He felt himself start to tear in two, unable to open his mouth and speak. He wanted to tell Eliot what transpired between him and Vincent, but something within wouldn’t let him.

Is it that unknown word?

Frustrated, he quickly stood up and stormed off towards the front door. He didn’t even bother to grab his jacket. Just as he crest beyond the door, he heard a voice call out from behind him,

“Zan, where are you going?” Eliot said.

But he didn't respond—he couldn’t respond. He simply walked out into the cool night, hoping to find something in the darkness. And maybe, just maybe, he could finally find that word he was searching for.