Title: Illusione Orale
Summary: When an old, rival Mafia Family begins to grow a bio-engineered weapon to completely wipe out all of the Vongola, no one takes the threat seriously. It's only when the thing begins to kill that they realize their only hope lies in the legend of a single emotion of pity, that was sent down from the stars to save them. BelxFran, and others.
-hides in a corner- So, my voice is squeaking right now; I'm so nervous! This is my first non-humor story. It's a story about Fran, because a) I love him, and b) I know absolutely nothing about his history (does anyone? Except the creator?), and so this came out. I love it; I hate it; so, please. Tell me what you think.
Rating: The rating on this story is subject to change.
Disclaimer: I do not own Katekyo Hitman Reborn!, even though I wish I did.
Prologue: How it was
No one knows how the very first illusion came into existence.
Some say it was created by a magician, who was escaping death; He was an older man, who had stolen an ancient artifact from a tomb of a dead king. The artifact was said to hold the power to summon a demon from the farthest depths of Hell. With the King's soldiers on his tail, he summoned up all of his power to call upon the demon lying in sleep in the artifact. The demon appeared in the form of mist, and, obeying his Master, killed the soldiers. After the soldiers were slain, the demon gave a vow to the magician, to stay by his side as long as he was needed.
Others say that a mother created it from her tears, her loss over her baby too much to bear. Her tears solidified into a baby boy, mist coming off of him in tear drops. The two were able to live seven years of enjoyment, being a family and living in love. When he turned seven, the boy learned of how he was created, and how he wasn't her true child. In an angry rage, he killed his mother and father, before turning inside of himself and bursting into a cloud of mist.
The most famous story is that of a star, who, looking down at the people of Earth, cried a single tear of pity for those who were destroying their home. That tear landed in a desert, and, even though it had its orders from the star to help the people of Earth, it had a mind of its own; it created illusions or, as they would be come to be known, mirages. Those who were not wise enough were sucked in by the illusion and never made it out alive. Many had gone on adventures to try and find that star, but they never returned.
Then there were the ones that were plain stupid, so no one bothered to mention them.
Many had attempted to recreate the first illusion, hoping to bring it into existence to harness its power. The Fourth Vongola boss had attempted, but he had failed, and the creature that had been created took almost six months to track down and kill. Many other attempts had been made, but as far as anyone knew, they had resulted in death and destruction, with one actually sinking the land called Atlantis.
No attempts had been documented since the sinking of Atlantis.
But that doesn't mean that they hadn't stopped trying.
Part One: Them
-Altai Mountains, Siberia.
2337 hundred hours-
Mukuro Rokudo wasn't the type of person to go on missions solo, or to go on missions at all. He preferred to send his minions to do his dirty work. But this, this was different. Word was going around the circle that there was a new illusion weapon being made in Siberia, and that it was powerful. Very powerful. This type of weapon could be just what he needed to boost his power. If the Vongola is, in fact, back, then I'll need all of the power I can get.
The lab was located deep in the Altai mountains, hidden well in the snow storm that Mukuro knew had to be machine created; no snow storm went on for six months, and no snow storm happened in summer, even in Siberia. Kufufu. They are all idiots, he thought, thinking of the Siberian scientists. Even the illusionists that were guarding the lab were way too easy to get rid of. The lab needed a new security system. Their current one was pathetic.
It was a small lab, metal, like the majority of all labs, and it wasn't supposed to exist, according to the Siberian Government. No lab names Xaxis was permitted a license to practice its preferred science. And yet, Mukuro thought as he glanced down at the lab from the tree he was sitting on, high up on the hill overlooking the nook the lab was situated in, here it is. He had expected more illusionists and guards to be guarding the lab, but...
This is almost too easy. Something is not right...
Mukuro shook his head. Now was not the time to question his motive. He was here, and he was going to get what he'd come for.
Taking a deep breath, he jumped down from the tree, hitting a guard who had been patrolling on the head with his trident. The guard went down without a sound, the snow muffling the grunt he made when he hit the ground. Mukuro reached down and took the key from the guard's belt. "Thanks," he told the guard, before turning and making his way down the hill. The entrance to the lab was between two tall ice blocks that curved to a point at the top. It was being guarded by two illusionists and a man with a gun. Easy, he thought as he created a rabbit and sent it running over to a pile of ice rocks to the left of the guards; as it reached the rocks, Mukuro made it explode. The guards looked over in the direction of the smoke and ran over to it, allowing Mukuro the time he needed in order to sneak in. By the time the guards went back to their post, confusions written in fine lines on their faces, he was already inside.
The inside was definitely warmer, and he sighed as he took off his wet fur coat and placed it on the ground. The thing was getting in his way, the heavyweight of it causing him to slow down more than he wanted to. He would be quicker in getting what he'd come for now, without the creepy animal coat. He kicked the coat and made his way down the hall.
There were less guards inside, and he had to hold back a chuckle at the scientists logic; 'no one will be able to get inside, so put all of the guards outside' was not the best idea. He'd reached the end of the hallway and was about to turn left when he heard voices coming from his right. He pushed himself back against the wall and held in his breath, listening.
"...I told you to increase the electricity on the door. He almost escaped this time."
"I did increase the electricity. He's gotten stronger."
"It's a good thing, but for him to get this strong this quick is-"
"I know, but let's not mention this to the boss just yet. This increase in power could destroy the entire project. Don't give him any more food today, and after he is tranquilized let's move him to cell block R. That should hold him for a while longer."
The two scientists continued down the hall, their conversation growing more quiet with each step. To check that they were gone, Mukuro stuck his head out into the hallway. They were gone, and, intrigued, he changed direction, going right instead of left; going in the direction the two scientists had come from. He had time, so he could look into this 'him' that they had been talking about.
There were no guards down this hall, which Mukuro found odd. If there was something strong down here, you'd think that there would be a ton of guards.
His foot-steps echoed all around the hallway, and they sounded louder to his ears. He was nearing the end of the hall when a loud banging sound reached his ears. He pulled out his trident and readied himself. But no enemies or guards came; the banging sound continued, and Mukuro began walking again, on guard. He reached the end of the hall in no time. But it was a dead end; there was no way to continue, no door, no windows. He placed his hand on the wall.
Nothing.
He cocked his head to the side, listening to the banging sounds, now with small grunts being added to the mix. He moved his hand around the wall, feeling for a difference. Suddenly, his hand disappeared. Here we go, he thought, and he dispelled the illusion. A door appeared in front of him, with bars and a tiny window situated in the middle of the door. He grinned. Stupid illusionists. He gripped the door handle and opened it.
The room was dark, with no light able to enter to room as there was no windows. A small sound of metal clanking came from a corner and Mukuro took a step into the room; the door slammed shut behind him, the echo of the bang sounding louder than it was.
"Who're you?"
The voice was small, like one would have expected to come from a child. It also came from the corner. Mukuro turned to face the corner, and his eyes met two glowing green orbs. The orbs blinked. "You don't smell like one of them."
Mukuro stared at the green eyes. "Who I am is none of your concern, little one. Who you are is far more interesting."
The two green lights moved slightly to the left. "I have no idea who I am. They don't tell me."
Growing tired of the dark, Mukuro created an illusion light and placed it in the palm of his hand. He held it up, trying to get a good look at the other in the room.
It was a boy, who looked like he was six or seven. The boy had jade colored eyes, and his hair (the same color as his eyes) was almost touching the ground. He was sitting on the ground, his legs shackled and laying on the floor; his arms were chained as well, and were held up in the air by his head. On his left ring finger was a gray ring that shone dully in the small light. He was pale and thin, like he'd been starved his whole life, and the clothes he was wearing were old, torn, and covered in blood.
"Hello, there," Mukuro breathed.
The boy looked up at him. "You look like a pineapple," he stated blankly.
Mukuro pulled back a little. He didn't much like being called a pineapple. "And you are little."
The boy blinked at him, and Mukuro noticed two little purple triangles at the corner of his eyes. "What is 'little'?"
This boy hadn't seen much of the world, Mukuro decided. "What are you doing in a place like this?"
The boy shrugged. "I don't know. I've always been here. I don't like it, though. They do weird things to me."
Mukuro had a sudden memory come rushing to him, of when he'd been trapped in a place he hadn't wanted to be in, and when people had done things to him that he hadn't wanted. He felt a small emotion creep up in him: pity. It was an odd feeling that had Mukuro confused. He normally didn't care when people got hurt, but... He shook his head, making up his mind. He was going to get his boy out. No one should be forced to be in a place they didn't want to be in. "What do they call you?"
"666."
"I mean a name."
"666."
Mukuro frowned. The kid didn't even have a proper name. That wasn't right. I'll give him a name later, but we need to get out. I still need to find that weapon. He straightened up and, with a flick of his wrist, the chains binding the boy fell apart. The boy stared at them. "Come," Mukuro said, turning back to the door and reaching for it.
"I wouldn't do that-"
A shock went through him, a pain that brought up memories of other electric devices that were used for torture. Mukuro turned into himself, letting his body take the pain but keeping his soul separate. The boy stood up on wobbly feet and walked slowly to him. "They keep this side of the door electrified. So I can't get out. Doesn't work well, though."
Mukuro shook his head, clearing the pain away. So, it's a little more difficult than I had thought. But he knew how to get out. Clearing his mind, he created an illusion on the other side of the door and had the illusion open it. There was a click and the door opened. Mukuro turned to the boy. "Come, and let's get you out of here."
The two left the room, the little boy practically running to keep up with the fourteen year old. "Where are we going?"
"Outside."
The boy, although his face was blank, looked up at him and said, with some emotion floating in his voice, "I've never been to this 'Outside.' What's it like? Is it far away? I hope that there is a pool. I've heard a lot about pools from them."
Mukuro was about to answer when a shout from ahead of them caused them to stop.
"H-hey! What are you doing here?" The guard paused and looked at the boy who was hiding behind Mukuro's leg. His eyes widened. "Oh my god..." the guard whispered before dashing to the wall and pressing a red button that Mukuro hadn't noticed before.
Alarms went off, each blaring sound louder than the previous one. The little boy beside him covered his ears and squatted down to the ground. "No...no...not again. Not again!"
Mukuro grabbed his arm and yanked him up. "Now is not the time to get scared!"
He began running, stabbing the guard as they passed. More guards were coming their way, and Mukuro sent a wall of fire in their direction; the fire consumed them, the illusion being real and it allowed the two to pass. With the arrival of the guards, it meant that he wouldn't be able to search for the weapon. It made him pissed. Eventually, he reached the corner that lead to the entrance. "Come on!" he yelled at the boy, who was struggling to keep up. "If you can keep up, I'll get you a cake!"
"What's- what's cake?"
"A treat!"
The little boy looked like he'd never had a 'treat' before, and he picked up his pace. They were nearing the entrance...
...only a few steps farther...
...Mukuro reached for the handle...
...they were free!
The snowstorm met them with a burst of cold air as they ran out of the lab. Mukuro shivered on impact and brought the little boy closer to him; but the little boy didn't seem affected by the coldness of the snow at all. In fact, he was bringing his hands up and trying to grab the falling flakes. "Is this 'Outside'?"
Mukuro grabbed his arm again. "Come, we still have far to go."
The two began to make their way to the exit, each step slow. The snowstorm was settling down a little, and Mukuro could make out the ice tips that indicated the exit he was looking for. They were almost there.
"STOP!"
The voice that rang out was businesslike and demanding. Mukuro turned, and he instinctively brought the little boy closer to him.
A group of men (around a hundred) of illusionists and soldiers were standing at the entrance to the lab, all of them holding guns and aiming them at him. Mukuro inhaled. I can't take all of them on like this! Maybe half, but...
The leader, a man in a big fur coat, stepped forward. "Child, I'll let you leave unharmed if you just give us back 666! He is needed very much in this facility, and would it would do us great harm if he was taken!"
'666' inched closer to Mukuro and grabbed his shirt, clinging tightly. "I don't like this man," he whispered. "He smells bad."
Mukuro stared the man down. "I'm taking him, whether you like it or not!"
The man clenched his teeth. "I say you're not! 666," he called, "why are you leaving with this boy? He's a stranger, and he has promised nothing to you! We give you food, and a place to sleep!"
The boy stepped forward a bit. "He said he'd give me a 'treat.' I would like this 'treat' very much," he said, speaking in a mono-toned voice. "I don't like you people."
The man snarled. "Fine! Let it be that way!"
He motioned, and one of the men fired:
Mukuro doubled over, the bullet grazing his hip. I should have seen that coming, he thought as he let out a small moan. He put a hand to his hip, and when he brought it back, there was blood on his hands. The little boy stared at the blood, his eyes wide. "No..." he whispered. "Not going to happen!"
He turned and faced the men with the guns. Bringing his hands up, he put them out in front of him, his palms facing the men; he took a deep breath and swung his arms out to the side. As he did so, he yelled, "BOOM!"
There was an explosion; it stared with the lab, the windows shattering, the walls crumbling; then it reached the men, who were all trying to run, but as if in slow motion. The explosion sent them flying to the ground, and there were screams as it consumed them. It took Mukuro a good second to realize that this was an illusion. It was a real illusion.
"It's you..." he whispered, looking up at the boy. "You were the illusion weapon..." The boy had made a real illusion appear by using his voice. That was power. He stood up and poked the boy's shoulder. "Let's go and get you that treat, Fran," he said, deciding that this name would suit the boy.
The boy stared up at him. "'Fran'?"
"Your new name."
'Fran' blinked. "I've never had a name before. Is it a good thing?"
Mukuro nodded, and the two began to walk, the sounds of the explosion behind them. "It's a very good thing."
Fran nodded his head. "Then I like it."
"I'm going to make you my apprentice."
"Okay."
I'm going to make sure to keep you by my side. This power of yours...it's mighty. I can use you. With you by my side, I will be able to defeat the Vongola...
[][][][][]
"Listen here, I'm only doing this as a favor for Mukuro, so don't think that this means we're friends!"
Fran (he was still trying to get used to his new name) sat still on the wooden seat, staring intently at the girl in front of him. Her name was M.M, and she was going to be his 'teacher.'
Whatever that was.
The girl M.M. sighed and tapped him on the head. "What's with your facial expressions- or more rather, what's with your lack of facial expressions?"
Fran cocked his head to the side and blinked.
She growled. "Never mind," she said as she turned back to the food she was chopping. "I don't know why I have to be the one to baby-sit..." she grumbled.
The seven year-old pulled his knees up and stared unblinkingly at the meat, watching the knife in the his teacher's hand move up and down.
Up, down, up, down, up, down.
He opened his mouth:
"Chop."
A split second later, M.M let out a shriek as the meat vanished and reappeared, each part cut into perfect cubes. She looked back up at Fran, who was staring at her with a blank face. She couldn't believe it. This little boy had just performed a real illusion-
Using only his voice.
"Okay," she said, "food's done." She placed her hands on the cold counter and stared at the little boy that Mukuro had brought back with him from Siberia. He'd told her to take care of him for a little while. Since he was Mukuro, she didn't question him. And it wasn't that the child was a pain at all; he was quiet, and didn't really do much but stare at everything around him and watch T.V.
She sighed, looking at the long, green hair the boy had on his head. "Let's get that hair cut."
He blinked. "Okay," he said in mono-tone.
She pointed a finger at him. "Don't move," she said, and she left the room, reappearing with her purse and a hair tie. "I'm going to pull your hair up."
She gathered his hair and used the hair tie to pull it back and up. "There," she said.
Fran put a hand up to his head, feeling the hair tie and touching it with a tender touch. M.M pulled him from his seat and began to put his shoes on.
Shoes. It was a new concept, to wear shoes. He'd never had shoes before, but he liked them. It made it so his feet didn't hurt when he walked around. When she was done, M.M dragged him to the door. "Let's make this fast, 'kay? I have some other things that I need to deal with."
The door opened, and Outside was revealed.
It was still all new to him, seeing as he had only been free for three weeks, but he was quickly growing used to being Outside. The sun made his skin look healthier, and the week previous, when he'd spent too much time Outside, it had even turned his skin red. It was all very fascinating. People were also Outside, but since they didn't look or smell like them Fran didn't feel like he needed to be wary of them. One, an older lady, had even given him something called a 'chocolate bar.' Fran decided, after eating it, that he rather liked those chocolate bars; they were tasty, and if left in the heat, became gooey chocolate bars.
They were walking down the thing called a sidewalk when he saw it; it was what Mukuro had called a 'park.' There were other little ones playing there ('little one' being the name that Mukuro called him), and they were smiling. Fran still hadn't learned what made people smile, but he wanted to; when people 'smiled,' then other people were nice to them. He wanted other people to be nice to him. Then he could get more chocolate bars.
He liked chocolate bars.
The park was something that always drew Fran's attention when he was Outside. He wasn't allowed to go there, nor was he allowed to associate with anyone, but once, when it was late at night, Mukuro had woken him up and taken him to the park. No one was there, but Fran was able to play on the thing called a swing, the slide, and the sandbox. It had been fun, and he often left M.M.'s house late at night to go back. He loved the swing; it was his favorite, because when he closed his eyes, be could trick himself into believing that he was flying, high, high in the air. He loved that feeling.
The sudden stop was what drew him away from his thoughts. M.M was pulling him into a building; the door clanged shut behind them.
"Oh, well if it isn't little M.M. How are you doing?"
Growling, M.M pulled on Fran's hand and dragged him closer to the old man. "Birds, stop. I'm not a little girl! I'm fourteen!"
The man, Birds, smiled. "Sure, sure," he paused when he looked at Fran. "Eh? Who is this?"
"Fran, someone that Mukuro picked up."
Birds smirked. "She's cute..." he whispered, inching near.
"He's a boy."
Birds instantly pulled himself up-right. "Seriously?"
"Yes, I'm a boy. And you're kind of creepy."
Both older people stared down at him. He blinked up at them, then turned to M.M. "Is he the one who is going to cut my hair?"
His teacher sighed. "Birds, he needs a hair cut. Mukuro told me to have it cut by the time he gets back so..."
The creepy old man sighed, nodding. "Fine, fine..."
Fran was pulled (he was getting pulled around a lot today) over to a chair and forced to sit on it. There was a mirror in front of him and he could see himself in it. Birds was mumbling some incoherent things as he pulled out some sharp looking objects. Soon, Fran could hear the snip-snip sound of scissors being used, and the next second, a strand of his hair fell to the ground. It went on like that for a few minutes, before his hair came down a little past his chin. He leaned forward to look at himself, and that was when he felt a small stab at his shoulder. Looking down, he saw a small needle in his arm.
Birds snickered. "Oops! My bad!" His voice sounded different, Fran noted.
Fran blinked down at the needle, before reaching down and pulling it out. "Here," he said, giving the needle back to Birds. Both the old man and M.M stared at him. He blinked. "What?"
The old man shook his head. "Nothing..." he turned to face M.M. "That's going to cost you."
She scoffed. "You kidding? You're not getting anything! If you want money, take it up with Mukuro when he gets back!"
With that, she grabbed Fran and took him back to Outside.
[][][][][]
-Thirteen years later...
Manzherok, Siberia. 1924 hundred hours-
"Hey, Froggy. Tell the Prince a story."
Fran glanced over at his senpai, who was lounging on the hotel couch, playing with one of his knives. "Senpai, you're going to want to put that away. You're going to get us kicked out of here."
He only let out a sigh when Bel tossed his knife at him. Stupid senpai, he thought as he pulled the knife out of his arm. "You're an idiot, senpai."
Bel snickered. "I'm not an idiot; I'm a prince. Now, tell me a story."
They were in a a crappy hotel near the village of Manzherok, waiting for their mafia contact who had said that there was a job to be done. He was more than an hour late, and Fran could tell that Bel was getting bored of waiting. Prince the Ripper wasn't one to wait patiently; he wasn't one to wait at all, so when he was forced to wait, especially for a long period of time, he was never in a good mood. And it was never a good thing for Fran when Bel was in a bad mood. It usually meant that he wanted a story told to him (really, Bel was such a child most of the time), and that meant that Fran had to talk.
He didn't like talking.
Fran slumped down next to Bel and stared up at the ceiling. It was a boring ceiling, with a few fans and an ugly square design. "What kind of story?"
"One fit for a prince."
"Well, then it looks like I can't tell you one."
Bel stabbed him. "Tell the Prince a story."
"Fine," he said, pulling out the knife and bending it, ignoring Bel's exclamation of 'hey!.' He settled down in the seat and began:
"Once, there was a single emotion of pity that fell upon the land. It was sent for a reason, to save the people and remind them of their potential. But once it saw the evil of the world, it decided that it would do what it could to punish the people, instead of helping them. In the desert where it'd landed, it decided to create a strong and powerful illusion, creating water where water should never be, trees where they could not grow, and a place for sleep when one should not be sleeping. Many fell for these tricks, and hardly any made it out alive. Eventually, the emotion grew on the despair that the dying gave off, and it became stronger, becoming addicted to the power it held, surrounding the area it was located in inside a single, very powerful illusion.
"The illusion overwhelmed those who came near it, and a scientist, who was studying the art of illusions, decided to see if this legend about the desert was true. He traveled far and wide, until he came to the desert with the illusions so powerful that he couldn't enter without offering up a sacrifice. In a nearby town, he found a woman who had just lost her child, her first son. He brought the body of the child to the desert, but it wasn't enough. So he went back, and this time he found an old magician, who, throughout the years had gone mad. He took the man to the desert, where the feeling of pity decided to let the man enter; he was brave, and the emotion felt that it could handle one single human. It underestimated the scientist's power, however.
"The scientist had created a box; one small, brown box, that was powerful enough to hold a single illusion. He spent many days with the emotion, earning its trust, until one day, he swept up the feeling of pity and locked it into the box. He took the box out of the desert and to his lab, deep in a range of mountains. There he kept the box, and he took his time studying it. Eventually, though, time began to wear on the box, and some of the illusions seeped out. They were strong and easily overpowered the scientist, who had grown old and weak with age. Once the scientist was disposed of, the illusion thought it could escape.
"But it'd forgotten that the scientist had assistants. Those assistants would not allow the illusion to leave, and locked it inside of the dead child's body that had been offered up as a sacrifice. There, the lingering soul of the dead boy overcame the illusion, the want to live more powerful than the illusion could deal with. It fused with the child, and the boy came to life-"
He was about to go on when a man tapped him on the shoulder. "Um, pardon me, but are you the Varia representatives?"
Both assassins turned to see a man in his late forties; his clothes were worn and torn in places, with many badly sewn patches holding the pieces of cloth together. He looked much older then Fran assumed he really was, and he was constantly fumbling with his hands.
Belphegor frowned. "Hmmm... You're late."
The man bowed. "I'm terribly sorry, but I ran i-into some trouble and-"
Bel shushed him. "Whatever. Just tell us why you called us out to this hellish place. You made the Prince wait long enough," he mumbled.
Fran fought the urge to sigh. The man nodded repeatedly. "Yes, yes. You're quite right."
He looked around them, at the people walking around the hotel lobby. "Come with me, and we'll find a more...secure room," he said as he began to walk into one of the empty conference rooms; the assassins followed him.
Once the door was closed and locked, the man turned to them. "My name is Vadim, and I'm here because I'm a representative of the Bogdan family."
Bel 'hmm'ed.
The Bogdan family was one of the Vongola's most supportive families; their alliance had been started with the First, and it had held together through all of the years since. For them to contact the Vongola in need of help meant that something big was going on.
Vadim continued. "One of our scouts was in the Altai mountains a couple of weeks ago, and there he found something odd. There is an old lab up there, deep in the mountain that was destroyed over thirteen years ago, but...we have reason to believe that it is up and running again; there are some weird things that are happening to the mountains. We even saw some important looking people entering and exiting the lab."
Fran tensed. What is the labs' name...what's the name? He wanted to yell it out, to force the man to say any name but the one he was thinking of, but he remained calm and composed. It wouldn't do any good if he got out of character now.
Bel sighed. "Why did you contact us, then? We perform assassinations, not investigations."
Vadim nodded. "I know, but we do want you to assassinate someone." He lowered his voice to a whisper and began again. "We found out the name of one the persons entering the lab.
"His name is Boris Tarasov, and he is very big in the science of bioengineering. For him to be there...well, we have reason to believe that they are building -or creating something – in that lab."
Fran cocked his head to the side. "What does that have to do with us?"
"After a little bit more research, we found out that he was associated with the Fedor Family."
This made both Bel and Fran more interested. The Fedor Family had long been enemies with the Vongola, almost as long as the Bogdan family had been allies. The family was always trying to create ways to get rid of the Vongola, but had yet to succeed.
Vadim nodded again. "Why we called you into this is because we discovered that Boris has a son and a daughter; the son is around the age of twenty, the daughter much younger, being around six."
Bel smiled his murder smile. "And you want us to kill them."
"The son, yes. Not the daughter. We can hold her hostage to get the information from Boris. If you accept, we have information on the targets' locations and their daily schedules. Are you in?"
The use of the word 'target' made the two children seem less human. It made the job easier. It also meant that Vadim was very serious.
Belphegor laughed. "Ushishishi. Fuck yes."
Fran stared at him. "Shall I inform the stupid long-haired captain that we are taking this job?"
Bel shook his head. "Nah, it's just a simple assassination. It's not like we're going to get dragged into this anymore." He turned and placed his elbow on top of Fran's frog hat. "Ushishi. Froggy needs to finish his story. Tell the Prince later, okay?"
Fran sighed. "Whatever..."
With a small (and relieved) smile, Vadim pulled out a small, black binder and handed it to Fran. "This is all of the information we have on the Tarasov family. I wish you luck on your job." With that, he began to leave the room, acting like he wanted very much to not be in the room with the two Varia soldiers.
Bel called out to him to stop before he reached the door. "Ushishi. You forgot to tell us the labs' name. It's sort of important."
Vadim gulped. "I believe that it is called Xaxis."
As Vadim left, Fran felt a cold hand creep up his stomach and squeeze his heart. Senpai, he thought as the two began to look over the binder together. He put a hand into his pocket, gripping his Hell Ring in a tight grip. I feel like we just might get dragged into this...more than we want to. If Xaxis is, in fact, back up, many awful things could come out of it. I should know. Better than anyone. He sighed, and tightened his grip on his ring. Be there for me, he told it. I'm going to need you.
[][][][][]
-Altai Mountains, Siberia.
0294 hundred hours-
"It's up to thirty-three percent."
"Good, that means that this formula is working."
"Thirty-seven percent."
The man placed his hands on the railing, looking down at the large tube and wires. "Come on..." he whispered. "Come on!"
An alarm rang out, along with a red light that filled the room. Scientists ran about, each turning off machines and some flipping switches down. The man hit the railing with a fist. "Dammit," he yelled, gripping the railing in a tight grip. "What happened?" He barked at the scientist nearest to him.
The man gulped. "It looks like the system we created w-was not compatible, sir!"
The scientist let out a shriek as he was grabbed around the shoulders. "Then create one that is compatible!"
The scientist nodded and, as soon as he was released he ran from the room, shouting orders to the other assistants in Russian. The man sighed and leaned against the railing.
"No other system is compatible, you know."
He turned sharply to see a single silhouette standing in the doorway. He bowed. "Sir," he said, trying to keep his demeanor cool.
The other man entered the room slowly. "There is only one who is able to get this machine working, Boris."
Boris looked up sharply. "Only one, sir?"
The man ran a hand against the railing. "Only one, but he escaped this facility a long time ago. Over thirteen years ago, to be exact. He was the one who destroyed this lab," he said as he walked forward. "He nearly killed me."
Boris gulped. "Number 666, sir? But he has vanished off of the map! No one has been able to find him!"
The other man startled him by slamming a fist into the wall. "Do not remind me," he hissed. "That purple haired brat ruined this whole operation! He hid 666 in a place that I could not find!"
Boris inched over to the door. "We will do our best to find him."
His boss glared at him. "You better, or you will regret it."
At the end of this chapter I can only ask if you will please, please, leave your feedback. I appreciate it very much when people tell me if they liked it, if it was horrible (yes, I'm weird, but it helps if people are honest; it means I can improve the story.), and what they think needs some work. So, if you don't mind, drop a review in the review box. I will love you forever if you do.
Lots of love,
UO