Sequel to "And all that remains is the memory"
Many readers have wished for a sequel. After the original sequel fell victim to my hard drive crash, I needed a while to complete this. I hope these chapters fulfill all your wishes ... or most of them.
The connection between him and his master hummed. Frankenstein found it difficult to concentrate on the preparation of tea. A few minutes ago, his thoughts were drawn like moths to the light, as the Noblesse looked at M-21's soul and gave him a glimpse of his impressions for a few breaths. Frankenstein had to rest on the table for a while. The sugar would almost have fallen to the ground if Muzaka had not caught the can in time.
The werewolf refrained from commenting, just keeping an eye on Frankenstein's handholds, and finally sat down in his chair by the fireplace, the eyes fixed on a particular point in his room. The scientists practiced in patience and looked over to the window Raizel stood by watching the sunset. The familiar picture interrupted by the child on his arm, who had laid his head on the Noble's shoulder and was following the natural spectacle with the same devotion.
No matter how often Frankenstein thought about it, Nobles and especially his master were fascinating creatures. Their predisposition to explore other living beings on a spiritual level was unique and the Noblesse was particularly powerful in it. If M-21 were seriously in mortal danger, Raizel would have already found out and warned him. By contrast, the small glimpse his master granted him was not enough to fathom what had happened to M-21. But even a year would not be enough. The information was too complicated, too complex, for Frankenstein to process with his human brain. Despite any modification. Even the Noblesse had problems to find the right words.
The blond man sighed silently and sat down in a chair as well. Forcibly, he had to wait until after sunset for more answers. He did not want to be rude and drag his Master away from the window where he enjoyed this moment so much. Hundreds of years old and still as impatient as a child when it came to satisfying his curiosity.
Next to him, Muzaka grinned broadly, as if he had guessed his thoughts. The werewolf had become more restrained in the last few centuries. Quieter, which surprised not a few people. The last came because the werewolf carried a good deal of unpleasant memories with him. It was annoying then that the said werewolf, despite memories, had the gall to steal and eat some of Meister's cookies, no matter how much Frankenstein tried to kill him with a glance. At least he did not spread crumbs everywhere.
As soon as the last rays of the sun disappeared on the horizon, M-21 yawned. The little one stretched with pleasure and rolled himself into a ball. A little later he laid with his face on the crook of Raizel's neck and closed his eyes in a peaceful deep sleep. Disruptive, this whole scene was interrupted only when Raizel turned around, his eyes wide in panic. It took Frankenstein a few seconds to even understand what was moving his master.
The Nobles did not know how to deal with a sleeping child in his arms.
"He sleeps very deep Master," Frankenstein explained in a muffled voice and with as much seriousness as he could in this situation. He rose from his seat and gave his master an extensive course in various ways to deal with a child in his arms, to sit down and do what is best for the child when he sleeps. The nobility attentively followed his words. Half an hour later he was sitting proudly in his chair with M-21 in his lap, who was really sleeping very deeply. Again, Frankenstein felt a stab of worry that had been bothering him since last night.
"Ah," Muzaka sighed and stretched his muscles after sitting quietly, "I think that apologizes for the stress you caused." The werewolf looked at them both. Frankenstein narrowed his eyes as he realized that Muzaka meant both of them.
"Stress Muzaka?" The man casually answered with a distinctly disgruntled tone. "You've dared to leave my master alone!" Frankenstein hissed the last words just to emphasize his point. Unfortunately, Muzaka responded differently than usual this time.
"You know ..." the werewolf gave him a crooked look, "Ashleen wanted to see Raizel and I went to get her. Not even five minutes, but I searched for two hours afterwards. Someone got him so upset that he tried to find the way himself. And you know what happens when he try not to get lost."
Of course Frankenstein knew that. His Master was certainly the only person that got lost faster when he tried not to do it. Ironically, Raizel always arrived at his destination when he did not want to. And ironically, Frankenstein himself had been the reason he got lost. "Forgive me, master!" He whimpered immediately, as the nobility - with colored cheeks - took his cup. His poor master! Frankenstein consoled himself with the thought that it would not be too long before the first mobile phones and GPS systems or Google Maps were invented.
"Frankenstein," Raizel's sigh was weary and impatient, "M-21."
"Yes, Master," Frankenstein cleared his throat. The Noble probably already knew the most, thanks to their bond with each other. For Muzaka it would be helpful to tell him first-hand. So he told about the day he found M-21 and how he was. "All the questions I ask him, he answers with: I do not know." Frankenstein shook his head in frustration. "I asked him where he came from, or what his name is. It's always the same answer. Unfortunately that's not enough to determine where he was."
"Actually uninformative," admitted Muzaka, playing with the teacup in his hand "Although I find it unbelievable to even see him, when we were all sure he was extinguished." The werewolf cleared his throat to overplay the unpleasant silence, which spread at his statement. "Maybe you'll find out more from those who held him, if your guess is correct. However, I'm pretty sure there's no Union base around here, my people would have found that out," with a look at Raizel, he added, "Or the Central Order Knights."
"He may have fallen from the sky," Frankenstein pointed back. Of course, Muzaka was not entirely wrong with his statement. The Union was ridiculously small and far from having the resources it once had, as far as he knew. He would have to be permanently drunk if it had escaped him in such a small town. "Maybe he got caught in the clutches of smugglers," unfortunately there were still too many. These bastards offset their small size with a well-designed network of human trafficking.
"Maybe," Muzaka glanced at Raizel and he could see him swaying inwardly at the sight. "Then it really is?" He mumbled and shook his head, sinking deeper into his chair. "I mean he ..." the werewolf paused, ending his sentence with an imprecise gesture. He should be dead - these were the words that were missing and none of them took offense to it. In the past, all topics concerning the trio were sensitive, much as Muzaka's Ashleen theme was sensitive. They had already resigned themselves, only to find one of the three here. Alive, regardless of the shape, though he should be dead. More than dead, extinguished. His soul destroyed without the possibility of restoration.
M-21 had always been a survivor, only this time it was a miracle to see him sleep so peacefully.
How could he have done that? Frankenstein was inwardly almost lost on this question. How? How could he escape his safe end? If he correctly interpreted the disease symptoms, then the artifact had left its mark on him. Distinctly. The next puzzle was his abilities, including his healing. Purely thought logically, M-21 in this present should not be modified. From a purely logical point of view, he should not live, considering his origin. How does the artifact really work? Their possibilities had also been limited to some extent. Frankenstein frowned and closed his eyelids in quiet resignation as his further thoughts made no logical conclusion. He would not get along without clues, especially since he lacked any equipment to adequately investigate M-21.
Besides his worrying about M-21, the worries about the other two disobedient guys remained. If M-21 had the regeneration abilities of his werewolf heart, did it mean that Tao and Takeo were still tied to Dark Spear? Dark Spear did not have the power Frankenstein could remember in that presence. Nevertheless, the origin was still the same, as was the wickedness. Although Dark Speak changed ... wait. Frankenstein opened his eyes and met the gaze of his master. The Noble nodded barely perceptible, so there was at least one possibility that his theory was not too far-fetched.
But he could deal with that later, first they had to visit his laboratory in Lukedonia. He hoped nobody had dared to mess things up there. Well, the only person who possessed enough impudence was kicked out by his own daughter. But as soon as he got wind of it, that his master had come back ... Frankenstein shook himself instinctively.
"Muzaka," Frankenstein said quickly before his foreboding gained the upper hand. "How does M-21 affect you?"
"Strangely," replies the werewolf who immediately understood what Frankenstein wanted. For the last few minutes, the werewolf had sat in the chair, still, face covered. Now he opened his fingers a crack and looked at M-21 with his gray eyes. "I know him and therefore know where this aura comes from. Without prior knowledge I would type on modified human. Even now, I'm not sure if what I perceive can be attributed to my people." Muzaka paused and pursed his lips, unsure how to describe it.
"You are not sure?" Frankenstein asked. The scientist strongly suspected that a werewolf heart beat in M-21's chest. The boy just healed too fast, not to mention a few other things and noises he'd noticed.
Muzaka shook his head and, with a laborious moan, heaved himself out of his chair to lean over the table. The werewolf rubbed his nose a little, sniffed conspicuously, and then sneezed once. "Well," murmured Muzaka and let himself fall back into his chair. "His aura fluctuates unusually strongly and he also smells a little strange that makes it hard. As I said, I know where this aura comes from, but someone who does not know him ..." He shrugged. "You are not going to Lukedonia anyway? Is it so important to you to know it now? The puppy does not look like he is at risk of dying."
Frankenstein frowned in confusion. "What are you aiming for?"
Muzaka looked at him first, then Raizel. "Listen, you two," started the werewolf, "this is something you both have to deal with right now and I understand that too. When I found out that Ashleen ... " He fell silent for a moment and now looked thoughtful. "I just mean that this is something both of you are under strain of and therefore you are forgetting some things."
"Which would be …?" The blond man folded his hands on his lap, unwilling to ignore Muzaka's suspicion altogether.
"My damned responsibilities perhaps? What should I tell my people when it'll come out that I left a puppy, or left it to you?" Muzaka clucked his tongue. "Half-breed or not, his abilities would clearly prove that he can not live among humans. He would be my responsibility. Add the Central Order and my people to that. They will want to know where the puppy came from. Not to mention that you two forget that you do not live alone and there are people in your environment you have to explain this."
Raizel's eyes widened at the mention of his home, and Frankenstein turned pale as his mind put two and two together. Muzaka was right with his guess. They had both been distracted by the situation. Nevertheless, it riled Frankenstein immensely that Muzaka had come up with it and not him of all things! His mind had been too preoccupied with the question of M-21's health and appearance and with the question of how he should explain this to their surroundings.
"I mean," Muzaka continued, ignoring their frozen facial expression, "that half-truth is better than a whole lie."
"I understand," Frankenstein nodded. All the evidence they had so far was based on assumptions and assumptions. In fact, Muzaka would be more bothered to explain why he did not take M-21 under his charge, although the child showed clear evidence of werewolf blood, even if Muzaka were to claim that he did not know. Life under Nobles did not always bring benefits. The less they knew right from the start, the less they would have to lie and this would clearly create less distrust.
The scientist held his head as he became aware of the magnitude of M-21's emergence.
This child was some trouble.