For Swift, the day started like any other. He woke up to his alarm blaring at him -- he always preferred getting up earlier than most, to get ready for the day, as well as conduct research. He got dressed in his Targent uniform. Since Bronev's arrest, he'd taken control of the organization. Targent was all he knew. He couldn't let it go.
He never bothered with his hair much; no matter what he did, he couldn't keep the wild blonde hair from sticking out every which way. Besides, he'd been told by Bronev that that made him look a bit more intimidating. In his opinion, it wasn't his hair, but the long, angry scar that stretched over his face -- that was what made him look intimidating.
He was proud of that scar -- when Targent was taken over by Bronev, he'd made everyone go through a new set of training. He'd earned that long cut that required to be stitched up for the longest time from Bronev.
Swift frowned. Bronev had been fierce, that's why he looked up to him. That's why he had tried so hard to rise through the ranks to become his right-hand man. He'd maybe even venture so much as to say he had adored the former leader of Targent.
But that was in the past now. Bronev had been arrested. He had willingly given himself to the authorities. Swift couldn't understand. He couldn't understand why a man like Bronev, so driven and determined to secure all Azran related ruins, would just give up like that.
He tied his orange ascot around his throat. Showing too many scars would just make you look weak. He couldn't be weak. Not anymore.
He stared down at his arms as he slipped them into his jacket. So many scars, a countless quantity. He'd been weak, once. He couldn't be weak now. He had work to do. People to interrogate.
And one of them was Desmond Sycamore. The fact that Bronev had been so -- he wouldn't call it 'merciful' -- forgiving to the expert on all things Azran made Swift's blood boil like nothing else. Why was he special? What was he to Bronev?
He pulled open the door to his room; no use getting ready anymore. He needed to get going. It was… frustrating, to say the least, trying to do the jobs of both the right hand man and the boss of Targent. He hadn't been able to find a replacement just yet for himself; he had to take both jobs. It was honestly very draining for Swift.
He wandered down the hallways, first checking for any…. Others who woke up at the same ungodly hour as he did. That number was close to zero, but he always wanted to make sure.
No one. Swift sighed. That was fine, honestly. Everyone was still shook up over Bronev's arrest, anyways. He'd let them rest a bit before he made them do anything too heavy.
He wandered from the hallways to outside the building. He needed to get this over with -- Desmond Sycamore was… a difficult person to work with. He was there the first time they encountered him -- he had been viscious then, like a cornered animal. He simply didn't want to leave his family.
A noble thing. Swift would have done something similar, once. Now Targent was his only family. He couldn't leave them even if he wanted to.
He climbed into an airship -- a rather small one, he was doing this without any of his men with him. Maybe the professor would be more willing if only one person showed up to question him.
"Desmond." The elder professor looked up from his work.
"What is it --?" He cut himself off once he caught the expression on Raymond's face. He narrowed his eyes, then tried to stand. His wound from the Azran sanctuary still hadn't began to heal; the gauze wrapping around him was… annoying, at the very least, the material that covered his wound rubbed and pinched at the blistered, pussing skin, sending shockwaves of pain up his body wih every move. "Raymond, what is it?"
The butler bit his lip. "I -- Targent --" Desmond's world stopped the moment the word left Raymond's mouth. He stiffened.
"Are they -- are they here? Now?"
"I'm afraid so. There's only one that I can see, but they could have our home surrounded."
"Only one at the door?"
"Aye." Desmond scoffed.
"A foolish decision, really. If he truly came alone…." He started moving towards Raymond. "I won't keep him waiting."
He pulled open the front door. He could see the red starting to fill his vision. Raymond was behind him, ready to do anything at a moment's notice.
"What do you want?" Desmond spat. The man on the other side of the door -- Desmond recognized him as Bronev's second in command. He must be the boss now.
"I just want you to answer a few questions for me." Swift crossed his arms, his mouth turned into a frown. "That is all."
"How many are with you?" Desmond grit his teeth.
"I'm afraid I am the only one. If you want more company… I can make it happen." Swift's voice grew dangerous. "Just answer a few questions for me, and I will leave you alone."
"Hmph." Desmond narrowed his eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose. He was in no condition to fight, and he knew it. His wound would get in the way. "What sort of questions do you have?"
Swift smiled, though his posture didn't relax any. "Can you tell me the circumstances in which Bronev was arrested?"
Desmond pursed his lips. "Are you not aware of the events prior to his arrest?"
"I'm afraid not." Swift shook his head. "You, Professor Layton, Luke Triton, Emmy Altava, and the emissary were the only ones in the sanctuary with Bronev when it became airborne, then collapsed."
"How… fortunate."
"Fortunate for you, perhaps." Swift extended his arms. "I only wish to know what happened in the sanctuary. We are not pursuing the Azran anymore." Desmond frowned.
"If that's your only question… I will allow it."
Swift gave a sideways smirk. "Good." He wasn't against using force, but he wanted to avoid a confrontation if at all possible. He had heard of what Desmond and his butler could do.
Desmond sighed, leaning against the doorframe. "To put it simply, Bronev activated the legacy, and we all had to sacrifice ourselves to stop it."
Swift furrowed his eyebrows. "You mean to say you died?"
"Yes." Desmond shook his head. "Even Bronev did. He realized that all the work he had put into the legacy was wasted."
Swift took a moment to process what he had been told. "Bronev -- willingly sacrificed himself to stop the legacy?"
"That's right. I was a bit shocked too, to be quite honest."
"I don't understand. How are all of you --?"
"How are we still alive?" Swift nodded. "I'm not quite sure, myself. I think Aurora brought us all back."
"Aurora?"
"Ah -- that's right, you wouldn't have known her name." Desmond's tone carried a bite. "Aurora was the emissary. Unfortunately, after we came back, the ruins began to crumble, and Aurora didn't make it out. She was one of the golems."
"And what of Bronev?"
"What of him?" Desmond shrugged. "He knew what he had done was unforgivable. He gave himself to the authorities after they got out of the sanctuary."
"I don't under --"
"I answered your question." Desmond began to move back into his home. "That's all the information I can give you. That's all I know. Now, I have some important work to do. If you don't have any other business, leave."
Swift ground his teeth together. No, he chided himself after a moment, Desmond was correct. Desmond had answered the questions Swift had asked. No need to use violence.
"What are you to Bronev?" He asked before he could stop himself. "Why was he more forgiving to you than anyone else?"
The red-eyed man glared at Swift. "I wouldn't use the word 'forgiving'. But… if you must know. I'm one of his biological sons." Swift's mouth opened in shock, his eyebrows furrowing. Desmond let him process what he had said for a moment before beginning to close the front door. "Now, if you don't mind. I'd like to get back to work."
Swift didn't say anything else, letting Desmond shut the door. He blinked once, twice, before turning back to the vehicle he'd used to get here from the airstrip.
How was….
He couldn't be….
The more he thought about it, however, the more it made sense.
And Desmond wanted to be left alone.
Swift wouldn't guarantee that, but…. He would certainly try.
He understood now why Desmond hated Bronev so much. Killing your own family…. Swift shuddered involuntarily.
He would leave Desmond alone.